you."

"You overwhelm me with obligations," said he, bowing low, to which she
replied by a courtesy so profound as to throw an air of ridicule over
his courtly politeness.

"Shall we say to-morrow for our departure, Mr. Maitland?"

"I am at your orders, madam."

"Well, then, I'll write to dear old Aunt Maxwell--I suppose she'll be
your aunt too before you leave Tilney (for we all adopt a relation so
very rich and without an heir)--and delight her by saying that I have
secured Mr. Maitland, an announcement which will create a flutter in the
neighborhood by no means conducive to good archery."

"Tell her we only give him up till Wednesday," said Lady Lyle, "for I
hope to have the Crayshaws here by that time, and I shall need you all
back to receive them."

"More beauties, Mr. Maitland," exclaimed Mrs. Trafford. "What are you
looking so grave about?"

"I was thinking it was just possible that I might be called away
suddenly, and that there are some letters I ought to write; and, last of
all, whether I should n't go and make, a hurried visit to Mrs. Butler;
for in talking over old friends in Scotland, we have grown already
intimate."

"What a mysterious face for such small concerns!" said Mrs. Trafford.
"Did n't you say something, papa, about driving me over to look at the
two-year-olds?"

"Yes; I am going to inspect the paddock, and told Giles to meet me
there."

"What's the use of our going without Tony?" said she, disconsolately;
"he's the only one of us knows anything about a colt."

"I really did hope you were beginning to learn that this young gentleman
was not an essential of our daily life here," said Lady Lyle, haughtily.
"I am sorry that I should have deceived myself."

"My dear mamma, please to remember your own ponies that have become
undrivable, and Selim, that can't even be saddled. Gregg will tell you
that he does n't know what has come over the melon-bed,--the plants look
all scorched and withered; and it was only yesterday papa said that he
'd have the schooner drawn up till Tony came back to decide on the new
keel and the balloon jib!"

"What a picture of us to present to Mr. Maitland! but I trust, sir, that
you know something of my daughter's talent for exaggerated description
by this time, and you will not set us down for the incapables she
would exhibit us." Lady Lyle moved haughtily away as she spoke; and Sir
Arthur, drawing Mrs. Trafford's arm within his own, said, "You 're in a
figh