e shall sit next the old boy at dinner, and she shall talk to him just
as much as she jolly well pleases. And of course he'll take to her, and
offer to give her lessons--or paint her--or something. Then we can get
her over--lots of times!"

Still dallying with these simple plans, Tatham arrived at Green Cottage,
and tying up his horse went in to deliver his note.

He had no sooner entered the little drive than he saw Lydia under a
laburnum tree on the lawn. Hat in hand, the smiling youth approached her.
She was sewing, apparently mending house-linen, which she quietly put
down to greet him. There was a book before her; a book of poetry, he
thought. She slipped it among the folds of the linen.

He could not flatter himself that his appearance disturbed her composure
in the least. She was evidently glad to see him; she was gratefully sure
that they would all be delighted to dine with Lady Tatham on the day
named; she came with him to the gate, and admired his horse. But as to
any flutter of hand or eye; any consciousness in her, answering to the
eager feeling in him--he knew very well there was nothing of the kind.
Never mind! There was an inner voice in him that kept reassuring him all
the time; telling him to be patient; to go at it steadily. There was no
other fellow in the way, anyhow! He had a joyous sense of all the
opportunities to come, the summer days, the open country, the resources
of Duddon.

With his hand on his horse's neck, and loath to ride away, he told her
that he was on his way to the Tower to call on Faversham.

"Oh, but we're coming too, mother and I!" she said, in surprise. "Mr.
Faversham sent us a note. I don't believe he ought to have two sets of
visitors just yet."

Tatham too was surprised. "How on earth Faversham is able to entertain
anybody, I can't think! Undershaw told me last week he must get him away,
as soon as possible, into decent quarters. He doesn't get on very fast."

"He's been awfully ill!" said Lydia, with a soft concern in her voice,
which made the splendid young fellow beside her envious at once of the
invalid. "Well, good-bye! for the moment. We have ordered the pony in
half an hour."

"You'll see a queer place; the piggery that old fellow lives in! You
didn't know Faversham--I think you said--before that day of the
accident?" He looked down on her from the saddle.

"Not the least. I feel a horrid pang sometimes that I didn't warn him of
that hill!"

"Any decent bike