ught, my dear, as it would be getting late, we had better
accept his offer of staying the night at Vandon."

Ruth assented, but so absently that Mr. Alwynn dropped the subject with
a sigh, and walked on, revolving weighty matters in his mind. They had
left the woods now, and were crossing the field where, two months ago,
the school-feast had been held. Mr. Alwynn made some slight allusion to
it, and then coughed. Ruth's attention, which had been distracted, came
back in a moment. She knew her uncle had something which he did not
like, something which yet he felt it his duty to say, when he gave that
particular cough.

"That was when you were staying with the Danvers, wasn't it, Ruth?" in a
would-be casual, disengaged tone.

"Yes; I came over from Atherstone with Molly Danvers."

"I remember," said Mr. Alwynn, looking extremely uncomfortable; "and--if
I am not mistaken--ahem! Sir Charles Danvers was staying there at the
same time?"

"Certainly he was."

"Yes, and I dare say, Ruth--I am not finding fault, far from it--I dare
say he made himself very agreeable for the time being?"

"I don't think he made himself so. I should have said he was naturally
so, without any effort, just as some people are naturally the reverse."

"Indeed! Well, I have always heard he was most agreeable; but I am
afraid--I think perhaps it is just as well you should know--forewarned
is forearmed, you know--that, in fact, he says a great deal more than he
means sometimes."

"Does he? I dare say he does."

"He has a habit of appearing to take a great interest in people, which I
am afraid means very little. I dare say he is not fully aware of it, or
I am sure he would struggle against it, and we must not judge him; but
still, his manner does a great deal of harm. It is peculiarly open to
misconstruction. For instance," continued Mr. Alwynn, making a rush as
his courage began to fail him, "it struck me, Ruth, the other
day--Sunday, was it? Yes, I think it _was_ Sunday--that really he had
not much to ask me about his week-day services. I--ahem! I thought he
need not have called."

"I dare say not."

"But now, that is just the kind of thing he _does_--calls, and,
er--under chestnut-trees, and that sort of thing--and how _are_ young
people to know unless their elders tell them that it is only his way,
and that he has done just the same ever so often before?"

"And will again," said Ruth, trying to keep down a smile. "Is it true
(Mabel is