e
Mr. Ferrers and his sister were sitting. It was a far larger room than
the one where Fay had had her foot doctored that day, and was
evidently Mr. Ferrers's peculiar sanctum--two of the walls were lined
from the floor to the ceiling with well-filled book-shelves, an
ordinary writing-table occupied the center of the room; instead of the
bay-window, a glass door afforded egress to the garden, and side
windows on either side of the fire-place commanded a view of the
yew-tree walk; a Scotch deerhound was stretched on the rug in front of
the blazing fire, and two pet canaries were fluttering about a stand
of ferns.

Miss Ferrers had evidently been writing from her brother's dictation,
for several letters were lying ready for the post. As Erle had crossed
the hall he had distinctly heard the sound of her clear, musical
voice, as she read aloud: but the book was already laid aside, and she
had risen to welcome him.

Erle fancied she looked paler than on the previous occasion, and he
wondered what Mr. Ferrers would have said if he had seen those dark
lines under her eyes; perhaps she never told him when she was
tired--women liked to be martyrs sometimes.

He was received very cordially; and Miss Ferrers seemed rather touched
at the contents of her little note.

"It was good of Lady Redmond to write," she said to Erle with a smile;
"but she makes far too much of my little services."

"Oh, that is just her way," returned Erle, candidly. "She is such a
grateful little soul. Most people take all one's attentions as a
matter of course; but Fay is not like that."

"Oh, no, she is very sweet," observed Margaret, thoughtfully; somehow
she had yearned to see that pretty, bright face again.

"She is the finest little creature that ever lived," returned Erle,
with boyish enthusiasm; "it is wonderful how little she thinks about
herself. And she is about the prettiest girl one can see anywhere; and
she is clever, too, though you would not believe it to hear her; for
she always wants to make out that she can do nothing."

Mr. Ferrers smiled at this. "Lady Redmond did seem bent on proving
that fact to us."

"Of course, did I not tell you so? but don't you believe her, Mr.
Ferrers. Why, even Hugh, critical as he is, owns Fay is the best
horsewoman in these parts. I should like to see her and Bonnie Bess in
the Row; she would make a sensation there. And it is quite a treat to
see her drive her ponies; she knows how to handle a hor