ays had passed since the night of the ball.

Although it was no later in the year than the month of February, the
sun was shining brightly, and the air was as soft as the air of a day in
spring. Percy and Charlotte were walking together in the little garden
at the back of Mr. Bowmore's cottage, near the town of Dartford, in
Kent.

"Mr. Linwood," said the young lady, "you were to have paid us your first
visit the day after the ball. Why have you kept us waiting? Have you
been too busy to remember your new friends?"

"I have counted the hours since we parted, Miss Charlotte. If I had not
been detained by business--"

"I understand! For three days business has controlled you. On the fourth
day, you have controlled business--and here you are? I don't believe one
word of it, Mr. Linwood!"

There was no answering such a declaration as this. Guiltily conscious
that Charlotte was right in refusing to accept his well-worn excuse,
Percy made an awkward attempt to change the topic of conversation.

They happened, at the moment, to be standing near a small conservatory
at the end of the garden. The glass door was closed, and the few plants
and shrubs inside had a lonely, neglected look. "Does nobody ever
visit this secluded place?" Percy asked, jocosely, "or does it hide
discoveries in the rearing of plants which are forbidden mysteries to a
stranger?"

"Satisfy your curiosity, Mr. Linwood, by all means," Charlotte answered
in the same tone. "Open the door, and I will follow you."

Percy obeyed. In passing through the doorway, he encountered the bare
hanging branches of some creeping plant, long since dead, and detached
from its fastenings on the woodwork of the roof. He pushed aside the
branches so that Charlotte could easily follow him in, without being
aware that his own forced passage through them had a little deranged
the folds of spotless white cambric which a well-dressed gentleman wore
round his neck in those days. Charlotte seated herself, and directed
Percy's attention to the desolate conservatory with a saucy smile.

"The mystery which your lively imagination has associated with this
place," she said, "means, being interpreted, that we are too poor to
keep a gardener. Make the best of your disappointment, Mr. Linwood, and
sit here by me. We are out of hearing and out of sight of mamma's other
visitors. You have no excuse now for not telling me what has really kept
you away from us."

She fixed her eyes on him