n the way of a rescue. I hear
that you are a very charming artist, Miss Darrell, and that you have
done some of our oaks and beeches the honour to immortalise them.'

There is no need for me to record all the airy empty talk of that
evening. It was a very pleasant evening. Angus Egerton had received
his first lessons in the classics from the kind old Rector, and had
been almost a son of the house in the past, the girls told me. He
had resumed his old place upon his return, and seemed really fond of
these friends, whom he had found ready to welcome him warmly in
spite of all rumours to his disadvantage that had floated to
Thornleigh during the years of his absence.

He was very clever, and seemed to have been everywhere, and to have
seen everything worth seeing that the world contained. He had read a
great deal too, in spite of his wandering life; and the fruit of his
reading cropped up pleasantly now and then in his conversation.

There were no other guests, except an old country squire, who talked
of nothing but his farming. Milly sat next Angus Egerton; and from
my place on the other side of the table I could see how much she was
interested in his talk. He did not stop long in the dining-room
after we had left, but joined us as we sat round the fire in the
drawing-room, talking over the poor people with Mrs. Collingwood and
her two daughters, who were great authorities upon the question, and
held a Dorcas society once a week, of which Milly and I were
members.

There was the usual music--a little playing and a little singing from
the younger ladies of the company, myself included. Milly sang an
English ballad very sweetly, and Angus Egerton stood by the piano
looking down at her while she sang.

Did he fall in love with her upon this first happy evening that
those two spent together? I cannot tell; but it is certain that
after that evening, he seemed to haunt us in our walks, and, go
where we would, we were always meeting him, in company with a
Scottish deerhound called Nestor, of which Milly became very fond.
When we met in this half-accidental way he used to join us in our
walk for a mile or two, very often bearing us company till we were
within a few paces of Thornleigh.

These meetings, utterly accidental as they always were on our side,
were a source of some perplexity to me. I was not quite certain
whether I was right in sanctioning so close an acquaintance between
Emily Darrell and the master of Cumber