For Mr. Trenchard, besides the wondrously sweetening power of his
candidateship, came of a very ancient name in Dorsetshire. He was
evidently a beau too--one of those harmless general adorers whom the
influence of a graceful woman touches even unto old age.

Agatha saw in his first look that he admired her, and she was in
that proud desperate mood when a girl is ready to catch hold of the
attentions or conversation of any one--even an elderly gentleman. She
was very gracious to Mr. Trenchard--nay, altogether bewitching--though
for the first ten minutes she herself saw and heard nothing save a thing
in black with white hair, talking to her of the beauties of Dorsetshire.
More distinctly than aught he said, she heard what was passing in the
group at the other end of the room--especially her husband's voice,
so quiet and deep, always a tone deeper than any other voices, falling
through all the rest like a note of music. And she soon found out that
Anne was listening also--to Nathanael, of course. She always did.

Mr. Trenchard followed the direction of the two ladies' eyes, and
ingeniously took up the text.

"I assure you, Mrs. Harper, it is a pleasure to all the neighbourhood
that your husband has come back from America. I remember him quite a
child, and his uncle a young man. And really, how like he is, in both
feature and voice, to what his uncle used to be at that time. As he
stands there talking, I could almost fancy it was Mr. Locke Harper."

"Mr. Locke Harper," repeated Agatha. "Was that the name Uncle Brian went
by?"

"Yes, save with those privileged people who called him Brian. But they
were few. He had not the fortune or misfortune of possessing a thousand
and one intimate friends. Yet all respected him, and remember him still.
It will be a real satisfaction to have in the country a second Mr. Locke
Harper,--Dear me, how like he is! Don't you see it, Miss Valery?"

"There is a general likeness running through all the Harper family."

"Except the eldest son, though even to him I can trace some resemblance
here"--and he bowed to Mrs. Dugdale. "And this reminds me that I knew
beforehand I should probably have the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Harper in
Dorsetshire. Only two days ago I saw at Paris Major Frederick Harper."

"Is Major Harper at Paris?" eagerly cried Agatha, caught by the name,
which had so soon passed out of the daily interests of her life,
that its sound was already quite strange. It reached her no