manly tone, and contempt of life before beginning it. This invigorated
Scudamore, by renewing his faith in human nature as a thing beyond
calculation. He whispered a word or so to his friend Johnny while Mr.
and Mrs. Shargeloes were bowing farewell from the windows of a great
family coach from London, which the Lord Mayor had lent them, to make
up for not coming. For come he could not--though he longed to do so, and
all Springhaven expected him--on account of the great preparations in
hand for the funeral of Lord Nelson.

"Thy servant will see to it," the boy replied, with a wink at his
sisters, whom he was to lead home; for Sir Francis had made his way down
to the beach, to meditate his new poem, Theriodemos.

"His behaviour," thought Dolly, as she put on her cloak, "has been
perfect. How thankful I feel for it! He never cast one glance at me. He
quite enters into my feelings towards him. But how much more credit to
his mind than to his heart!"

Scudamore, at a wary distance, kept his eyes upon her, as if she had
been a French frigate gliding under strong land batteries, from which
he must try to cut her out. Presently he saw that his good friend Johnny
had done him the service requested. At a fork of the path leading to the
Hall, Miss Dolly departed towards the left upon some errand among
the trees, while her brother and sister went on towards the house.
Forgetting the dignity of a Post-Captain, the gallant Scuddy made a cut
across the grass, as if he were playing prisoner's base with the boys
at Stonnington, and intercepted the fair prize in a bend of the brook,
where the winter sun was nursing the first primrose.

"You, Captain Scudamore!" said the bridesmaid, turning as if she could
never trust her eyes again. "You must have lost your way. This path
leads nowhere."

"If it only leads to you, that is all that I could wish for. I am
content to go to nothing, if I may only go with you."

"My brother sent me," said Dolly, looking down, with more colour on her
cheeks than they had owned for months, and the snow-drop quivering on
her breast, "to search for a primrose or two for him to wear when he
dines at the rectory this evening. We shall not go, of course. We have
done enough. But Frank and Johnny think they ought to go."

"May I help you to look? I am lucky in that way. I used to find so many
things with you, in the happy times that used to be." Blyth saw that her
eyelids were quivering with tears. "I will g