acquaintance," were Mr.
Sinclair's parting words as he took leave of Bessie; and Bessie
sincerely echoed this wish.

"He is the sort of a man father would like," she thought, as the train
moved slowly out of the station.

This was paying a great compliment to Mr. Sinclair, for Dr. Lambert was
rather severe on the young men of the day. "I don't know what has come
to them," he would remark irritably; "young men nowadays call their
father 'governor,' and speak to him as though he were their equal in
age. There is no respect shown to elders. A brainless young puppy will
contradict a man twice his age, and there is not even the same courtesy
shown to the weaker sex either. I have heard young men and young
women--young ladies, I suppose I ought to say--who address each other in
a 'hail-fellow-well-met' sort of manner, but what can you expect," in a
disgusted tone, "when the girls talk slang, and ape their young
brothers? I think the 'sweet madame' of our great-grandmothers' times
preferable to these slipshod manners. I would rather see our girls live
and die in single blessedness than marry one of those fellows."

"Father, we don't want to marry any one, unless he is as nice as you,"
replied Christine, on overhearing this tirade, and Bessie had indorsed
this speech.

It was rather late in the afternoon when Bessie reached her destination,
and she was feeling somewhat weary and dusty as she stood on the
platform beside her box. The little station was empty, but as Bessie was
waiting to question the porter, a man-servant came up to her and touched
his hat.

"Miss Sefton is outside with the pony-carriage," he said civilly. "I
will look after the luggage, ma'am--there is a cart waiting for it."

"Oh, thank you!" returned Bessie, and she went quickly through the
little waiting-room. A young man in knickerbockers, with a couple of
large sporting dogs, was talking to the station-master, and looked after
her as she passed; but Bessie did not notice him particularly; her eyes
were fixed on the road, and on a pony-carriage drawn up under the trees.
Miss Sefton waved her whip when she saw Bessie, and drove quickly up to
the door. She looked prettier than ever in her dark-blue cambric and
large shady hat.

"How do you do, Miss Lambert? I am delighted to see you again. How
punctual you are. Jump in. Ford will look after your luggage. This is a
very different meeting, is it not, from our last? No snow about, but a
very hot sun fo