e sadly, "I came up here last night for a walk."

"Alone?" asked Nelly.

Beatrice wished she had not spoken then, but being frank and
straightforward she replied "no I was not alone."

"Who with?" enquired Nelly.

"Never mind," retorted Beatrice.

"Oh Beatrice do tell me" coaxed Nelly, I'll not tell a soul."

"I dont care if you do," said Beatrice coldly.

"Well let me see if I can guess" said Nelly artfully "was it Mr
Cathcart?"

"What makes you guess him?" asked Beatrice angrily.

"Why because he has been paying attentions to you lately, and I thought
he might have come up here to propose" said Nelly.

"You have most silly ideas!" retorted Beatrice, "if you dont leave off
please to go home, what if he did propose?"

"Oh nothing at all," replied Nelly, "if you are so disagreeable I _will_
go home," so saying Miss Reeves tucked up her dress and walked home.

"Life is hard!" sighed Beatrice, "nothing seems to go right, first I
quarrel with Lawrence and then with Nelly--why what is that?" she cried
as she caught sight of something gold glittering in the pathway.

She stooped to pick it up; it was a gentleman's gold link, beautifully
carved and engraved with the initials L. C.

"L. C." repeated Beatrice handling the link pensively "why they are his
initials, can it be his I wonder? why yes" she continued, "here is the
name Lawrence Cathcart; His Links! yes they are his, I will keep them
and I may some day have occasion to return them to him," so saying she
put the articles in her leather purse and turned towards home.

In some unaccountable way Beatrice turned into the High Street and had
to pass Lawrence Cathcart's house, a splendid white stone building
standing apart from the other houses in a beautiful garden of well
tended blooms.

"What riches!" sighed Beatrice pausing at the iron gates, and as her
blue eyes searched the lovely grounds her glance fell upon Lawrence
Cathcart. He was standing under a tree with an open book in his hands.
He wore a light fawn suit and his black curly hair was exposed to the
Autumn sun; and as Beatrice gazed on this good looking young man she
wondered why she had not noticed before how exquisitely curly his hair
and moustache was, how fine his nose and eyes, and how beautifully his
mouth was curved.

But she did not talk to him or try to attract his attention, and sad and
disheartened she walked home.

CHAPTER 4

Tea was ready when Beatrice returned home and