prettier in a more becoming one. I intend trying to induce them to give way a little in that matter while she is with us.' "If you succeed, you must allow me an opportunity of judging of the effect," said Captain Verschoyle, laughing. Certainly. This is our house." They entered the gates, and drove up to the door. "They seem all to be in the garden," said Mrs. Hanbury; "shall we go and find them?" And stepping through the library window, they walked across the lawn; where, before they had gone many steps, they met Patience, who gave Captain Verschoyle a warm greeting. "And where is Dorothy?" asked Grace. "With the children; I left them all romping together, as I want to write to thy father by this post." "You must see my children," said Grace, and she and Captain Verschoyle proceeded down a side walk into a sort of wilderness, where a sudden turn brought them in front of Dorothy seated on the grass; while the two little girls adorned her hair with daises and poppies. She sprang up in great confusion, and before speaking to Captain Verschoyle, began to pull out the flowers. "Oh! Aunt Dorothy, please don't," cried both the children. "No indeed," said Captain Verschoyle, "it is a pity, for they look so pretty," and he took her hand, holding it for a moment. "Do let them stay, Miss Fox, they are really most becoming." Just at this moment the groom came to ask his mistress if he was to go for his master, or if she intended driving down herself. Grace hesitated, and Captain Verschoyle said, "You are not allowing me to detain you, Mrs. Hanbury ?" "If you do not mind, and Dolly will take my place and do the honours, I think I will go to the station for John. I always like to meet him if possible." "Then I hope you will not allow me to keep you. If Miss Fox will consent to take charge of me, I will endeavour to be as obedient and docile as a "Friend," put in Grace, laughing. "Well, a Friend though I intended to say a lamb." "Synonymous terms," she cried, as she prepared to leave them. "And in your case we will transpose the motto, and call you a Friend or sheep in wolf's clothing." "What does Mrs. Hanbury mean?" he asked turning to Dorothy. "Because thou art a soldier," she said, looking at him shyly. "Oh, I see of course, Quakers don't like fighting. Then do you not like soldiers, Miss Fox ?" 66 We know it is wrong to shed blood," she replied, looking very demure; "and I do not hold with soldiers' principles." "Neither do I, as a rule," said Captain Verschoyle, smiling at the little Puritan's manner; "but that is not answering my question. If a soldier hadn't any principles, would you dislike him—the man himself, I mean?" "I-I never knew any before I saw thee;" and Dorothy's brown eyes looked up with a coy expression, that made Captain Verschoyle think them fifty times more lovely than before; and he said, "Then am I to understand that you have based all your dislike to my profession on me?" This time Dorothy looked up with a smile, saying "I never said I disliked thee, but I think it is a great pity thou art a soldier, to fight with and kill thy fellowcreatures." "Oh! I am not at all a blood-thirsty warrior," laughed Captain Verschoyle; "I am a dreadful coward: indeed I am not sure that I did not run away whenever I saw the Russians approaching." Run away! exclaimed Dorothy. "Oh! I am sure thou art far too brave to do that; none of our soldiers ever ran away." But would not that be the right thing to do? You know I shall not be able to carry out my character of being a Quaker if you do not tell me how to act. "But thou art not a Friend. Thou must not call us Quakers," she said, looking archly at him for a moment, and then dropping her eyes suddenly, making her companion repeat to himself, "How lovely she is! It is the sweetest face I ever saw." Then with the irresistible desire of making her look up again he said, "But if you would try, you might make me one. I am sure you must have converted very many people." What could he mean? Dorothy felt it was something more than his words said; and in the confusion that suddenly oppressed her, she began pulling off the leaves of her geranium, which after all she had pinned (or rather salved her conscience by allowing Rose to pin) in her dress. This pretty bashfulness, with not a trace of gaucherie, only increased Captain Verschoyle's admiration. It was something entirely new to a man who had generally been met half or more than half way on his own ground. A flirtation with such an entire novice had a freshness which gave new zest to the somewhat hackneyed amusement. [ately; Indifferently;' Not at all;'PasHe felt himself entire master of his own sionately; Indifferently;' Not at all.' position, and that feeling too being new, There, did I not tell you so?" he was pleased with himself, and doubly "Oh! but they are not true," she cried; pleased with his pupil. "try another." To Dorothy's untutored ears his little commonplace compliments and every-day speeches sounded like some sweet music which searched her heart, and awoke and stirred up feelings which before lay slumbering and unheeded. 66 You are spoiling your bouquet," he said; poor flowers! give them to me. Here is a Marguerite for you to try your fate upon. You know the way, do you not?" "No, I have no need to try, after what you say; I am only too happy in hearing that it is not true." Before Dorothy could speak, Grace and Mr. Hanbury had turned into the walk. "Here you are at last," she exclaimed. "I could not imagine where you had wandered and I began to think whether I ought not to feel anxious; but John, who is one of those unpleasantly matter-of-fact persons, calmed me by the prosaic observation, "No; I have seen a picture of Margue-that people always found their way home rite with a daisy in her hand; but I did about dinner time.' not know "What! not know," he interrupted, "that she was trying to see how much she was loved? Ah! you have tried that often." "Indeed I have not." "Now, Miss Fox, will you look straight into my face, and tell me to believe that you were never interested enough in any one of your devoted admirers to care to what state of desperation you had driven them ? " Mr. Hanbury and Captain Verschoyle shook hands, and they all turned towards the house; Dorothy silent, and glad that no one asked her to talk. Was she waking from a dream that some charmed tongue had lulled her into? Waking to the consciousness that she, Dorothy Fox, had forgotten her principles, let slip her scruples, and laid aside her maidenly reserve; and towards whom? for what? Towards a stranger, a soldier; for vainly did she pretend that no name was in her thoughts when she pulled the leaves off the flower. She resolved to hold more guard over herself, and to remember the testimony she was called upon to bear. But before she had finished rearranging her dress, she was recalling each word that Charles Verschoyle had said, and as she stood regard Poor Dorothy! without looking up, she felt that he was looking fixedly at her, and that it was impossible to raise her eyes from the ground; then a thought rushed through her mind could he, by any possibility, know anything of Josiah? and her face crimsoned at the suspicion. Ah!" said Captain Verschoyle, "Iing herself critically in the glass, she wonknew you must plead guilty.' 66 "No," stammered Dorothy, trying to be unconcerned, and to treat it as a joke, "I do not plead guilty." Then raising her face without looking at him, she said, "I never tried it, or even heard of it before." 'Then I will teach you. Hold the flower in your own hand, so; and now you must think of somebody who loves you. That is very easy, is it not? But you too must care a little, or you will have no anxiety as to the result. Now give me your hand, and pull off that leaf, and say after me: 'He loves me, passionately; indifferently; not at all;' at each sentence a leaf, and the last leaf decides it." "Passionately!" she exclaimed, looking up with a radiant face. "I knew it would be that," he answered. "How couldst thou know? thou-thou couldst not tell who I meant." dered if he liked people with fair hair. She hoped so; and then a prick of conscience made her turn away, until she soothed herself by thinking that perhaps, after to-day, she should never see him again; and, at the thought, she gave an involuntary sigh. By the time John Hanbury and Captain Verschoyle arose from the dinner-table to join the ladies, each man had said to himself of the other: "This is as good a fellow as I have met with for some time.” When they entered the drawing-room Mrs. Hanbury was playing some of the "Lieder ohne Worte" to her mother and sister. "Don't stop, Grace," said her husband, going up to the piano; "I dare say Captain Verschoyle will not object to a little music." Captain Verschoyle expressed his great Still I knew. Now you will see that love for music, stopped to hear Mrs. Hanmine will come, 'Not at all;' "" and he com- bury for a few minutes, and then sauntered menced pulling off the leaves: Passion-over to the place he had fixed upon when 666 No, I have never learnt," she answered. "Never learnt! why, how is that? I thought learning the piano was considered as necessary for young ladies as learning to read and write." "Father does not approve of music." Do you know" said Grace" that I never learnt until after I was married? John taught me my notes. I verily believe our most serious quarrels were over those minims and crotchets." "Ah, thou wast very stupid," said Mr. Hanbury. "Thou wert very impatient, and would vex me by making me learn scales instead of tunes. I wish father would let you learn, Dolly; you used to have a capital voice." "I wish so too," replied Dorothy. "Mother begged for it," she added, turning to Captain Verschoyle; "she does not condemn music." "I am quite sure of that. What a sweet woman your mother is, Miss Fox! I am quite in love with her. You are wonderfully like her." The inflection in his voice made Dorothy's heart beat, but she determined to conquer this time; so she answered, "There is nobody in the world like mother. I was so amused when thou mistook Judith for her, but Judith was quite angry with thee." 66 And well she might be. I cannot fancy what induced me to commit such a stupid blunder." "Oh, no! it was not stupid; we all love dear old Judith, but mother" and she stopped, her sweet eyes expressing the love it seemed impossible to speak. "What will you do when you leave her ? " said Captain Verschoyle, asking the question that first came uppermost, in his desire that the lovely face should not be turned away from him. "Leave her!" she repeated; "What dost thou mean?" 66 Where!" exclaimed Grace; 'why, every nice girl you meet would do so for the man she loves. You know it is all very well putting it upon us women, but when a man says, I cannot ask her to give this up for me,' is it not the echo of, I cannot give it up for her ? Of course, I do not mean that a man without an income, or any prospect of making one, is to ask a girl to share nothing because they love each other; no honourable man would do that. What I ⚫ condemn is, the name of wife and helpmate being separated. Don't you think that two people will love each other better, and be more to each other at the end of five or ten years, struggling together, than if they had lived apart, discontented, and rebelling against Providence for not being kinder to them? Eventually they marry, but by this time perhaps they have ceased to be neces sary to each other. At all events, the wife will have lost some of the sweetest memories a woman can recall, in having lessened the anxieties and eased the cares of the man she loves." 66 'Spoken like an oracle, Grace," said John Hanbury. "Should business fail, thou shalt go about advocating the rights of women." "I know nothing about our rights," she answered. “I take our position from what "Miss Fox, you must "Thou must please promise me to forget it," she answered, gravely. 66 we were created for, and therefore, what to Verschoyle said, the best of our abilities we ought to fulfil. not run away before I come again. ReGod said, It is not good that man should member, I have not had that explanation be alone, and I will make him an help meet yet." for him,' and He made woman. I am quite contented with that. Educate us well, and so completely, that we are fit to be companions, confidants, and advisers to men; but defend us from being fellow-students, rivals in examinations, and compeers in professions." "I quite agree with thee, Grace," said Patience. 66 From that very day when woman's (so-called) rights are established, her influence will decline." Captain Verschoyle gave a comically rueful look as he exclaimed with a sigh, "Well, all I know is, I wish some nice girl would only fall in love with me. I am sure she would turn me into an awfully nice fellow. There," he continued, "is Miss Fox smiling at such an idea. You think the thing impossible, do you not ? " "Yes," she answered, responding to her thoughts, and not thinking how her reply might be taken. That's right, Dorothy. Uphold your principles by always speaking your mind," said John Hanbury, laughing. "Oh, but John, thou must not-I "Then, good night." 66 Fare thee well," said Patience. Good night, Mrs. Fox; good night, Miss Fox; in order that you may sleep peacefully I will try and forgive you that thrust at me, although my vanity will, I fear, never recover the terrible blows it has received to-day." Dorothy coloured. Thou hast nothing to forgive," she answered, "because thou didst not understand what I meant." “Oh, very well! Then I shall expect a further explanation. Good night." The next morning, before Captain Verschoyle left Fryston Grange, it was arranged that when he came again to town he should pay the Hanburys another visit. Grace and Dorothy went as far as the station with him, and while Mr. Hanbury was receiving some household commission from Grace, Captain So I will if " and he paused until Dorothy looked up inquiringly — “thou wilt promise not to forget me." The whistle of the train sounded, there was only time to jump in. "Good-bye," Good-bye," a wave of the hand, and Ćaptain Verschoyle and John Hanbury were on their road to London. Grace and Dorothy re-seated themselves in the pony carriage, and were very near home, when the former said, 66 'Why, surely, my Dolly has lost her tongue. What is the child thinking of?" Thinking of!" echoed Dorothy —" me - oh, I do not know." 66 Then, fearing that this speech did not entirely agree with her principles always to speak the plain truth, she said, as fresh colour mounted to her cheeks "At least, I do know; I was thinking of Charles Verschoyle." CHAPTER XV. A PIC-NIC AT DYNECOURT. On the fifth morning after Captain Vers choyle left Dyne Court, Mr. Ford did not make his appearance at the breakfast table. His man came to say that he was not quite well, and would be glad if Mr. Dynecourt would go to him when it was convenient to do so. Mr. Dynecourt found the old gentleman threatened with an attack of bronchitis. "Mr. Dynecourt," he said, "I sent to ask you to do me a favour. That is, while I am detained in my own apartment, will you act in my place, just consider our friends your guests, see they have all they want, and that they are happy and comfortable? I dare say I shall be all right in a couple of days, and in the meantime you must ask the ladies to pay me a charitable visit here, and cheer me up a little." Mr. Dynecourt consented, sat and chatted with Mr. Ford, and then, at his desire, went to look after the arrangements made for the day's amusement. Another pic-nic had been decided upon, and Mr. Ford would not hear of its being put off on his account. "And be sure," he said, "that you look after my favourite, Miss Audrey, and see she does not over exert herself; we allowed her to do too much last time." Each one was both concerned and sorry to hear of their host's indisposition; but Dr. Morcambe assured them it was nothing; | fear; I will endeavour to place the young only, with Mr. Ford's experience of how much man and myself on a proper footing." depended on prompt caution, he was acting most prudently, and the result would be seen by his joining them in a few days. Lady Laura had intended doing violence to her feelings by forming one of the party, that she might look after her son's interest, and not permit any tete-à-tete between Miss Bingham and Mr. Dynecourt. Now her plans were suddenly altered, for, of course, she must stay with Mr. Ford. "I shall read the paper to him," she thought, “and talk about Audrey." By the way, she must go and see him before they set off. "How provoking of Charles to leave just at this time, completely throwing that girl at Mr. Dynecourt! Audrey must contrive to keep them apart, secure his attentions, and leave Miss Bingham to the curate; no harm can come of that, for the man has not a word to say out of the pulpit." Thus decided, her ladyship proceeded to her daughter's room, and found her arraying herself in the muslin dress that on the former occasion she had refused to wear. That is right, my dear; that dress is quite nice enough for now. You must go and see Mr. Ford before you start. I think I will go up, and say you are so concerned you wanted to stay at home, but I knew he would be uneasy at depriving you of any enjoyment; or, perhaps, you had better say it yourself. Of course, you will offer to remain, though you need not do so really, because I think it will be better for me to have a quiet day with him." "I shall not only offer to remain, but I shall willingly do so, if it gives Mr. Ford any pleasure," returned Audrey. "I am going up now to sit with him until it be time for us to go." She went off smiling to herself, and knocked at the door of Mr. Ford's private sitting-room. "Now this is very kind of you, my dear young lady, not to stand on ceremony, but come up like an old friend." "I want to know if I can do anything for you," said Audrey. "Will you let me stay and read to you? I have had very little experience, but I think I can promise to do as much nursing as you require.” "What! and deprive everybody else of the pleasure of your company! Why, I should never dare to meet their angry faces again. No, no; you go and help my friend Dynecourt in entertaining the rest, and then I shall rest contented, being certain all is going on well." Mamma is coming to offer herself as a companion," said Audrey. "You know she does not care for pic-nics." 66 If I am not depriving her of enjoyment, I shall be delighted to see ber; and when you come back you will tell me of all you have seen and done?" "May I come and make tea for you? said Audrey; "or would it be too much worry?" "On the contrary, I only stay up here to secure myself against draughts and talking too much; but if you will promise to come and see me, I shall look forward to a pleasant evening." After a little time she bade him good-bye; I went down and told her mother Mr. Ford would be pleased to see her, adding, “I am going to make tea, and spend the evening with him, and give him an account of our day." Lady Laura was delighted. "Nothing could be better. It is just what I should have managed myself. Really, Audrey, you have a great deal of me in you." Audrey checked the answer she was prompted to return, bidding her mother adieu at once, that she might not be tempted to give vent to a little sarcasm which she found hard to repress. Then after you have paid your visit, I will pay mine. I hope there will be no necessity for you to remain at home, as I believe I could do much more by bearing him company; and, Audrey, just see that Mr. Dynecourt does not take possession of Miss Bingham. If you can manage it, secure him for yourself; if not, join them whenever you see him attempt to stroll off with her. Miss Verschoyle rendered such strict obeCharles may never have another such oppor-dience to her mother's wishes, that she and tunity, and, though from his obstinate stupidity he deserves to lose her, it would be a great annoyance to me." 64 Very well," replied her daughter, "then I am to sacrifice myself, and engage the companionship of Mr. Dynecourt as much as in me lies.' "Exactly so. You need not put yourself out of the way to make yourself agreeable." "Certainly not," said Audrey. "Do not Mr. Dynecourt were companions the whole day long. Mrs. Winterton, Miss Trefusis, and the General had arranged a wonderful botanical search. Miss Bingham and the Rev. Robert Kirby (whose loquacity would have disgusted Lady Laura) followed their example, and, they said, their footsteps, but the fates did not permit them to meet circumstance which did not seem to affect their enjoyment in the least. On this occa -3 |