ough she advanced
and stood quite near, he gave no sign of being aware of her presence.
But the joyousness of his voice seemed to make him hers again in this
new sweet way. She alone knew what had caused it, and unconsciously she
put one hand over her bosom as she listened.

"Sorry, dear ladies," Garth was saying, "but to-morrow morning is
impossible. I have an engagement in the village. Yes--really! At eleven
o'clock."

"That sounds so rural and pretty, Mr. Dalmain," said Mrs. Parker Bangs.
"Why not take Pauline and me along? We have seen no dairies, and no
dairy-maids, nor any of the things in Adam Bede, since we came over. I
would just love to step into Mrs. Poyser's kitchen and see myself
reflected in the warming-pans on the walls."

"Perhaps we would be DE TROP in the dairy," murmured Miss Lister archly.

She looked very lovely in her creamy-white satin gown, her small head
held regally, the brilliant charm of American womanhood radiating from
her. She wore no jewels, save one string of perfectly matched pearls;
but on Pauline Lister's neck even pearls seemed to sparkle.

All these scintillations, flung at Garth, passed over his sleek head
and reached Jane where she lingered in the background. She took in
every detail. Never had Miss Lister's loveliness been more correctly
appraised.

"But it happens, unfortunately, to be neither a dairy-maid nor a
warming-pan," said Garth. "My appointment is with a very grubby small
boy, whose rural beauties consist in a shock of red hair and a whole
pepper-pot of freckles."

"Philanthropic?" inquired Miss Lister.

"Yes, at the rate of threepence an hour."

"A caddy, of course," cried both ladies together.

"My! What a mystery about a thing so simple!" added Mrs. Parker Bangs.
"Now we have heard, Mr. Dalmain, that it is well worth the walk to the
links to see you play. So you may expect us to arrive there, time to
see you start around."

Garth's eyes twinkled. Jane could hear the twinkle in his voice. "My
dear lady," he said, "you overestimate my play as, in your great
kindness of heart, you overestimate many other things connected with
me. But I shall like to think of you at the golf links at eleven
o'clock to-morrow morning. You might drive there, but the walk through
the woods is too charming to miss. Only remember, you cross the park
and leave by the north gate, not the main entrance by which we go to
the railway station. I would offer to escort you, but duty tak