, that promised manliness. Indeed there was
a wonderful blending of the beauty of manhood and childhood about the
youth; and his demeanour was perfectly decorous and reverent, no small
merit in a young officer and London beau. Indeed Betty could almost have
forgotten his presence, if gleams from his glittering equipments had
not kept glancing before her eyes, turn them where she would, and if Mr.
Arden's sermon had not been of Solomon's extent of natural philosophy,
and so full of Hebrew, Greek, and Latin that she could not follow it at
all.

After the blessing, the young gentleman, with a bow, the pink of
courtesy, offered a hand to lead her out, nor could she refuse, though,
to use her own expression, she hated the absurdity of mincing down the
aisle with a fine young spark looking like her grandson; while her poor
father had to put up with Harriet's arm. Outside came the greetings, the
flourish of the hat, the "I may venture to introduce myself, and to beg
of you, sir, and of my fair cousins to excuse my sudden intrusion."

"No apology can be needed for your appearance in your own pew, Sir
Amyas," said the Major with outstretched hand; "it did my heart good to
see you there!"

"I would not have taken you thus by surprise," continued the youth, "but
one of my horses lost a shoe yesterday, and we were constrained to halt
at Portkiln for the night, and ride on this morning. Herries went on to
the Deanery, and I hoped to have seen you before church, but found you
had already entered."

Portkiln was so near, that this Sabbath day's journey did not scandalise
Betty, and her father eagerly welcomed his kinsman, and insisted that he
should go no farther. Sir Amyas accepted the invitation, nothing loth,
only asking, with a little courtly diffidence, if it might not be
convenient for him to sleep at the Great House, and begging the ladies
to excuse his riding dress.

His eyes wandered anxiously as though in search of something in the
midst of all his civility, and while the Major was sending Eugene to
bring Mr. Arden--who was hanging back at the churchyard gate, unwilling
to thrust himself forward--the faltering question was put, while the
cheeks coloured like a girl's, "I hope my fair partner, my youngest
cousin, Miss Aurelia Delavie, is in good health?"

"We hope so, sir, thank you," returned Betty; "but she left us six days
ago."

"Left you!" he repeated, in consternation that overpowered his
courtliness.

"Yes,