Two minutes had scarcely elapsed before there was the faint rustling of a lady’s dress and the creaking of a boot, and then two pale faces—those of brother and sister—appeared from a neighbouring clump of evergreens, gazed cautiously about for a few moments, and then moved away in another direction; the moon just beginning to cast their shadows upon the dewy lawn upon whose turf they walked, perhaps because it hushed their footsteps.

They had hardly disappeared before there was another faint rustling, and, eagerly peering about, Nelly Bray appeared, her girlish face looking half merry, half anxious, in the moonlit glade.

“A nasty, disagreeable, foxy pair of old sneaks!” she exclaimed—“to go peeping and watching about like that, and all because they were as jealous as—as jealous as—well, there, I don’t know what. I know I was watching too, but I wouldn’t have done so for a moment, if it hadn’t been to see what they were going to do. I wouldn’t have been so mean and contemptible—that I wouldn’t! But O, wasn’t it grand!” she exclaimed, clasping her hands. “Ah, don’t I wish I was like Miss Bedford, to have such a nice boy as Charley Vining to fall in love with me and tell me of it, and then for me to reject him like that! I don’t believe she meant it, though, that I don’t. She couldn’t! Nobody could resist Charley Vining: he’s ever so much nicer than Hugh Lingon, and I’d run away with him to-morrow, if he asked me—see if I wouldn’t! But there ain’t no fear of that. I knew he was in love with her—I was sure of it. And didn’t he speak nicely! Just as if he felt every word he said, and meant it all—and he does, too, I know; for he’s a regular trump, Charley is, and I shall say so again, as there’s no one to hear me—he’s a regular trump, that he is; and I don’t care what any one says. Wouldn’t it be nice to be Miss Bedford’s bridesmaid! I should wear—Here’s somebody coming!”

Nelly darted off, reaching the door just as leave-takings were in vogue; Sir Philip and Charley handing the Bray family to the waiting carriages; but in spite of then efforts, there was an appearance of constraint visible.

“Why, here’s the little rover!” exclaimed Charley, as Nelly appeared. “Where have you been?”

“Looking after and helping my friends, as a rover should, Mr Croquet-player!” exclaimed Nelly pertly, as she looked Charley full in the face; while, as he was helping her on with a shawl, she found means to make him start by saying:

“Look out! Max and Laura were listening!”

The next moment the carriage had driven off, leaving Charley standing motionless, and thinking of the pale-faced girl who had leaned so lightly upon his arm as he handed her to the carriage, and wond............