I'm free this time--I'm not the fashion. Introduce me; I'll do my best
as consolation.'

Nuttie had just performed the feat, with great shyness, when Mark
appeared, having been sent in quest of his cousin, when her father
perceived that she had hung back.

Poor Gerard led off Miss Ruthven the more gloomily, and could not help
sighing out, 'I suppose that is an engagement!'

'Oh! you believe that impertinent gossip in the paper,' returned
Annaple. 'I wonder they don't contradict it; but perhaps they treat it
with magnificent scorn.'

'No doubt they know that it is only premature.'

'If _they_ means the elders, I daresay they wish it, but we aren't in
France or Italy.'

'Then you don't think, Miss Ruthven, that it will come off?'

'I don't see the slightest present prospect,' said Annaple, unable to
resist the kindly impulse of giving immediate pleasure, though she knew
the prospect might be even slighter for her partner.

However, he 'footed it' all the more lightly and joyously for the
assurance, and the good-natured maiden afterwards made him conduct her
to the tea-room, whither Mark and Nuttie were also tending, and there
all four contrived to get mixed up together; and Nuttie had time to
hear of Monsieur's new accomplishment of going home for Mr. Dutton's
luncheon and bringing it in a basket to the office, before fate again
descended; Mr. Egremont, who had been at the far end of the room among
some congeners, who preferred stronger refreshment, suddenly heard her
laugh, stepped up, and, with a look of thunder towards her, observed in
a low voice, 'Mark, you will oblige me by taking your cousin back to
her mother.'

'The gray tyrant father,' murmured Annaple in sympathy. 'That being
the case, I may as well go back in that direction also.'

This resulted in finding Lady Delmar and the two Mrs. Egremonts
together, comparing notes about the two different roads to Redcastle
from their several homes.

Lady Delmar was declaring that her coachman was the most obstinate man
in existence, and that her husband believed in him to any extent.

'Which way did you come?' she asked.

'By Bankside Lane,' said the Canoness.

'Over Bluepost Bridge! There, Janet,' said Annaple.

'So much the worse. I know we shall come to grief over Bluepost
Bridge, and now there will be treble weight to break it down. I dreamt
it, I tell you, and there's second sight in the family.'

'Yes, but you should tell what you did dre