some balls and rackets were lying on the grass. Some comfortable
wicker chairs were placed under a large elm at the bottom of the lawn.

"Do you play tennis?" asked Edna abruptly, as she noticed Bessie's eyes
were wandering to the garden.

"A little; I am fond of the game, but I have not played a great deal;
it takes time, and there is so much to do."

"Edna plays beautifully," observed Mrs. Sefton. "It is a fine exercise
for young people, if they are moderate and do not over-exert themselves.
We have some neighbors, the Athertons, who come in nearly every day to
practice with Edna."

"Does not your brother play with you sometimes?" asked Bessie.

"Richard? Oh, no?" And Edna's lip curled a little disdainfully. "He is
far too busy to waste his time on me--he prefers playing cricket with
the village lads at Melton. Bye the bye, mamma, I left Richard at the
station; he said he had business with Malcolmson, and would not be home
much before dinner."

"Indeed, I am sorry to hear it," returned Mrs. Sefton coldly. "Of course
it was no use my warning him against any dealings with Malcolmson;
Richard will go his own way; but I confess that this infatuation for
Malcolmson vexes me much;" and a slight frown crossed Mrs. Sefton's
white forehead.

"Was the young man with two splendid dogs that I passed in the
waiting-room your brother?" asked Bessie, in some surprise.

"Yes, that was Richard," returned Edna; and she added, a little
maliciously, "I can see you are a little surprised. I suppose you took
him for a young farmer or gamekeeper. Richard is terribly clownish in
appearance."

Bessie thought this speech was in very bad taste, but she replied
quietly:

"I cannot say I noticed your brother, but one of the dogs attracted my
attention, he had such a fine head; I should think Landseer would have
enjoyed painting him."

"Oh, that must have been Gelert; every one admires him; I know Neville
coveted him. Now we have finished tea, and I dare say you will be glad
to get rid of the dust of your journey, so I will undertake to show you
your room. Mamma was going to put you into the big spare room, but I
insisted that you would prefer a smaller one. Was I right, Miss
Lambert?"

"Perfectly right, thank you," returned Bessie, as she rose with
alacrity.

Mrs. Sefton's eyes followed her curiously as she crossed the room.

"A healthy, fresh-colored country girl," she said to herself; "quite a
little rustic; but she seems a n