n to
be proud of her.

"I did not know that _you_ were to be here, Netta?" said Emma, in
surprise, as she entered.

"It was a very sudden call, Miss," said Netta, with a smile. "Captain
Wopper wrote a note to me, begging me to ask Mrs Stoutley to be so good
as lend me to him for a day to help at his house-warming. Here is the
letter, Miss."

Emma laughed as she glanced carelessly at the epistle, but became
suddenly grave, turned white, then red, and, snatching the letter from
the girl's hand, gazed at it intently.

"La! Miss, is anything wrong?"

"May I keep this?" asked Emma.

"Certainly, Miss, if you wish it."

Before she could say anything more, they were interrupted by the
entrance of Dr Lawrence. With a surprised look and smile he said--

"I have been invited to dine with our friend Captain Wopper, but did not
anticipate the pleasure of meeting Miss Gray here."

Emma explained that she also had been invited to dine with the Captain,
along with her mother and brother, but had supposed that that was all
the party, as he, the Captain, had mentioned no one else, and had been
particular in begging her to come an hour before the time, for the
purpose of going over his new villa with him, and giving him her private
opinion of it.

"I am punctual," she added, consulting her watch; "it is just four
o'clock."

"Four! Then what is the dinner hour?"

"Five," answered Emma.

"The Captain's wits must have been wool-gathering," rejoined Lawrence,
with a laugh. "He told me to come punctually at four. However, I
rejoice in the mistake, as it gives me the great pleasure of assisting
you to form an unprejudiced opinion of the merits of the new villa.
Shall we begin with an exploration of the garden?"

Emma had no cause to blush at such an innocent proposal, nevertheless a
richer colour than usual mantled on her modest little face as she fell
in with the Doctor's humour and stepped out into the small piece of
ground behind the house.

It was of very limited extent and, although not surrounded too closely
by other villas, was nevertheless thoroughly overlooked by them, so that
seclusion in that garden was impossible. Recognising this fact, a
former proprietor had erected at the lower end of the garden a bower so
contrived that its interior was invisible from all points except one,
and that was a side door to the garden which opened on a little passage
by which coals, milk, meat, and similar substances were