ould have preferred wider margins of leisure. On the green in
front of the wheelwright's they found little Christie seated under a
white umbrella, making a sketch of his father's house and the shed. A
group of sturdy children had put themselves just in the way by a
disabled wagon to give it life.

"I am doing it to please my mother," said the artist in reply to Lady
Latimer's inquiry if he was going to make a finished picture of it. He
went on with his dainty touches without moving. "I must not lose the
five-o'clock effect of the sun through that tall fir," he explained
apologetically.

"No; continue, pray, continue," said my lady, and summoned her party to
proceed.

At the entrance of the village, to Bessie's great joy, they fell in with
Mr. Carnegie returning from a long round on horseback.

"Would Bessie like a ride with the old doctor to-morrow?" he asked her
as the others strolled on.

"Oh yes--I have brought my habit," she said enthusiastically.

"Then Miss Hoyden shall trot along with me, and we'll call for you--not
later than ten, Bessie, and you'll not keep me waiting."

"Oh no; I will be ready. Lady Latimer has not planned anything for the
morning, so I may be excused."

Whether Lady Latimer had planned anything for the morning or not, she
manifested a lofty displeasure that Miss Fairfax had planned this ride
for herself. Dora whispered to her not to mind, it would soon blow over.
So Bessie went up stairs to dress somewhat relieved, but still with a
doubtful mind and a sense of indignant astonishment at my lady's
behavior to her. She thought it very odd, and speculated whether there
might be any reason for it beyond the failure in deference to herself.

An idea struck her when she saw Mrs. Betts unfolding her most sumptuous
dress--a rich white silk embroidered in black and silver for
mourning--evidently in the intention of adorning her to the highest.
"Oh, not that dress," she said. "I will wear my India muslin with black
ribbons."

"It is quite a set party, miss," remonstrated Mrs. Betts.

"No matter," said Bessie decisively. No, she would not triumph over dear
Harry with grand clothes.

When her young lady had spoken, Mrs. Betts knew that it was spending her
breath in vain to contradict; and Bessie went down to the drawing-room
with an air of inexpensive simplicity very becoming to her beauty, and
that need not alarm a poor gentleman who might have visions of her as a
wife. Lady Latimer instan