refusing the stranger's invitation, or for disguising the keen interest
which she took in his own individuality.

"Thank you; I'd like to stay," she said frankly. "I am so pleased to
meet you, for I know all about you. `Gervase Farrington Vanburgh',"--
she checked off each word on uplifted fingers, and nodded her head with
an air of triumph at the completeness of her information.

"`The Boundaries, Lipton, Devonshire.' I have posted ever so many notes
to you, and once I addressed an envelope. Perhaps you remember my
scrawly writing, with long tails to the letters? We were dreadfully
disappointed that Mr Vanburgh had no daughters, for we have not many
friends of our own age, but he tried to console us by saying that you
were coming to pay him a visit. I asked him especially to arrange it
for June, for we shall have our brother home then, and several things
going on which will make it livelier than usual. We have made all sorts
of plans for your amusement!"

"That is kind; I appreciate it very much. I have heard of you too, and
of the pleasure which your acquaintance has given my uncle. He was
giving me an account of you all last night, from which I have no
difficulty in recognising you from your sisters. You are Miss Lilias!"

"Lilias!--I! Good gracious! Whatever made you think that?" gasped Nan,
staring at him with eyes so clear and honest, that, though an adept in
the gentle art of flattery, Gervase Vanburgh found himself incapable of
explaining the reason of his mistake. He could not tell Nan Rendell
that, after hearing Lilias described as the beauty of the family, he had
at once identified her with the charming figure whose presence had
brought sunshine into the gloomy house. He murmured some vague excuse,
while Nan proceeded to expatiate on the difference between herself and
her sister. "Lilias is fair, and I am dark; she has golden hair, and is
quite grown up and staid and proper. I am supposed to be grown up too,
in the afternoons and in the evenings, but the mornings are my own, and
then I am disgracefully young, and behave as badly as if I were a child
again. I wish I were! I shall never be so happy again as I was in the
dear old school-days." Nan's eyes roamed wistfully across the road to
the porch room, where Elsie's sleek head could be seen bent over her
work, with Agatha and Christabel vaguely outlined at the table; then
suddenly her face lit up with mischievous smiles. "If they could