There's some one," exclaimed Rachel, nervously; and in fact a young man
was sauntering towards them. Bessie rose with a sort of annoyance, and
"Never mind, my dear, he is quite inoffensive, we'll soon get rid of
him." Then, as he greeted her with "Good morning, Lady Keith, I thought
I should find you here," she quickly replied.

"If you had been proper behaved and gone to the door, you would have
known that I am not at home."

He smiled, and came nearer.

"No, I am not at home, and, what is more, I do not mean to be. My uncle
will be here directly," she added, in a fee-faw-fum tone.

"Then it is not true that your brother and his bride are arrived?"

"True in the same sense as that I am at home. There she is, you
see--only you are not to see her on any account," as a bow necessarily
passed between him and Rachel. "Now mind you have not been introduced to
Mrs. Keith, and if you utter a breath that will bring the profane crowd
in shoals upon the Rectory, I shall never forgive you."

"Then I am afraid we must not hope to see you at the bazaar for the
idiots."

"No, indeed," Bessie answered, respecting Rachel's gesture of refusal;
"no one is to infringe her incog, under penalty of never coming here
again."

"You are going?" he added to Bessie; "indeed, that was what brought
me here. My sisters sent me to ask whether they may shelter themselves
under your matronly protection, for my mother dreads the crush."

"I suppose, as they put my name down, that I must go, but you know I
had much rather give the money outright. It is a farce to call a bazaar
charity."

"Call it what you will, it is one device for a little sensation."

Rachel's only sensation at that moment was satisfaction at the sudden
appearance of Ranger's white head, the sure harbinger of his master and
Alick, and she sprang up to meet them in the shrubbery path--all her
morbid shyness at the sight of a fresh face passing away when her hand
was within Alick's arm. When they came forth upon the lawn, Alick's brow
darkened for a moment, and there was a formal exchange of greetings as
the guest retreated.

"I am so sorry," began Bessie at once; "I had taken precautions against
invasion, but he did not go to the front door. I do so hope Rachel has
not been fluttered."

"I thought he was at Rio," said Alick.

"He could not stand the climate, and was sent home about a month ago--a
regular case of bad shilling, I am afraid, poor fellow! I am so sorry
he