s
considered specially pretty, and I myself am never able to look much at
the scenery in traveling; it always gives me a headache."

"What a pity!" said Erica. "It is such a treat, I think. In fact, it
is the only way in which I have seen what people call scenery. I never
stayed in the country in my life."

"My dear, is it possible," exclaimed Mrs. Fane-Smith, in a horrified
voice. "Yet you do not look pale. Do you mean that you have spent your
whole life in town?"

"I was at Paris for two years," said Erica; "and twice I have spent a
little time at the sea-side; and, years and years ago, father was once
taken ill at Southampton, and we went to him there that was almost like
the country I mean, one could get country walks. It was delightful;
there was a splendid avenue, you know, and oh, such a common! It was
in the spring time. I shall never forget the yellow gorse and the
hawthorns, and such beautiful velvety grass."

Her enthusiasm pleased her aunt; moreover, it was a great relief to find
the unknown niece well-bred and companionable, and not overburdened
with shyness. Already Mrs. Fane-Smith loved her, and felt that the
invitation, which she had given really from a strong sense of duty, was
likely to give her pleasure instead of discomfort. All the way home,
while Erica admired the Greyshot streets, and asked questions about the
various buildings, Mrs. Fane-Smith was rejoicing that so fair a "brand,"
as she mentally expressed it, had been "plucked from the burning,"
and resolving that she would adopt her as a second daughter, and,
if possible, induce her to take their name and drop the notorious
"Raeburn." The relief was great, for on the way to the station, Mrs.
Fane-Smith had been revolving the unpleasant thought in her mind that
"really there was no knowing, Erica might be 'anything' since her mother
was a 'nobody.'"

At last they drew up before a large house in the most fashionable of
the Greyshot squares, the windows and balconies of which were gay with
flowers.

"We shall find Rose at home, I expect," said Mrs. Fane-Smith, leading
Erica across a marble-paved hall, and even as she spoke a merry voice
came from the staircase, and down ran a fair-haired girl, with a
charmingly eager and naive manner.

Erica had guessed what she must be from the quaint and kindly meant
letter which she had sent her years before, and though five years in
society had somewhat artificialized Rose, she still retained much of