quire careful supervision; and Elisabeth was
but four-and-twenty.

Christopher, when consulted, fell into the arrangement with alacrity;
and it was arranged for him to take Elisabeth over to Burlingham on the
one day that Coulson's circus was on exhibition there. Elisabeth looked
forward to the treat like a child; for she was by nature extremely fond
of pleasure, and by circumstance little accustomed to it.

Great then was her disappointment when the morning of the day arrived,
to receive a short note from Christopher saying that he was extremely
sorry to inconvenience her, but that his business engagements made it
impossible for him to take her to Burlingham that day; and adding
various apologies and hopes that she would not be too angry with him.
She had so few treats that her disappointment at losing one was really
acute for the moment; but what hurt her far more than the disappointment
was the consciousness that Chris had obeyed the calls of business rather
than her behest--had thought less of her pleasure than of the claims of
the Osierfield. All Elisabeth's pride (or was it her vanity?) rose up in
arms at the slight which Christopher had thus put upon her; and she felt
angrier with him than she had ever felt with anybody in her life before.
She began to pour out the vials of her wrath in the presence of Miss
Farringdon; but that good lady was so much pleased to find a young man
who cared more for business than for pleasure, or even for a young
woman, that she accorded Elisabeth but scant sympathy. So Elisabeth
possessed her wounded soul in extreme impatience, until such time as the
offender himself should appear upon the scene, ready to receive those
vials which had been specially prepared for his destruction.

He duly appeared about tea-time, and found Elisabeth consuming the smoke
of her anger in the garden.

"I hope you are not very angry with me," he began in a humble tone,
sitting down beside her on the old rustic seat; "but I found myself
obliged to disappoint you as soon as I got to the works this morning;
and I am sure you know me well enough to understand that it wasn't my
fault, and that I couldn't help myself."

"I don't know you well enough for anything of the kind," replied
Elisabeth, flashing a pair of very bright eyes upon his discomfited
face; "but I know you well enough to understand that you are just a
mass of selfishness and horridness, and that you care for nothing but
just what interests