that any one, especially any
gentleman, could be lurking about, spying upon people, among those nasty
allotments? There was some one there, however, who came down the muddy
path, all cut up by the wheel-barrows, with a smile upon his face. A
gentleman? Janey called him so without a doubt on the subject; but
Ursula, more enlightened and slightly irritated, had her doubts. He was
dressed, not with any care of morning costume, but wore a black
frock-coat of the most formal description, with a white cravat
carelessly tied, semi-clerical, and yet not clerical. He had a smile on
his face, which, on the whole, was rather a handsome face, and looked at
them, showing evident signs of having heard what Janey said. To be sure,
he did not say anything, but Ursula felt that his look was just the same
as if he had spoken, and coloured high, resenting the intrusion. By this
stranger's side was one of the men who had been working at the
allotments, whose hands were not clean, and whose boots were heavy with
the clinging, clayey soil. When they had nearly reached the road, the
gentleman turned round and shook hands with his companion, and then
walked on towards Carlingford, throwing another look towards the girls
as he passed. It would be hard to say whether curiosity or anger was
strongest in Ursula. In Janey, the former sentiment carried everything
before it.

"Oh, I wonder who he is?" she cried, low, but eager, in her sister's
ear. "Who can he be, Ursula, who can he be? We know all the men about
here, every one, as well as we know Reginald. Oh, Ursula, who do you
think he can be?"

"He is very impertinent," cried Ursula, with an angry blush. "How should
I know? And oh! how very silly of you, Janey, to talk so loud, and make
impudent men stare at us so."

"Impudent!" cried Janey. "I didn't talk loud. He looked rather nice, on
the contrary. Why, he laughed! Do you call that impudent? It can't be
anybody from the town, because we know everybody; and did you see him
shaking hands with that man? How very funny! Let us run in and tell Mrs.
Sam Hurst, and ask her who she thinks he is. She is sure to know."

"Janey," said Ursula, severely, "if you live very long, you will be as
great a gossip and as fond of news as Mrs. Sam Hurst herself."

"I don't care," cried Janey; "you're just as fond of news as I am, only
you won't confess it. I am dying to know who he is. He is quite
nice-looking, and tall and grand. A new gentleman! Come, quick