best way, or in accordance with what
you call my motto.'

'Well,' said Anne, 'if Dykelands has done such wonders for Helen, as
they say, I hope I shall make friends with her, if she will let me,
which I do not think I deserve after my ill-usage of her. Last time I
saw her, it was but for two days, and she was so odd, and grave, and
shy, that I could not get on with her, besides that I wanted to make
the most of my time with Lizzie.'

'I hope Rupert will not teaze her as he used to do,' said Lady Merton;
'last time she was here, his teazing and her whining were nearly
unbearable.'

'Oh! she must have outgrown whining,' said Anne.

'I am afraid you cannot promise me that he has outgrown teazing,' said
Lady Merton.

'The one depends upon the other,' said Anne; 'if she does not whine, he
will not teaze. But had I not better finish my letter to him, and tell
him he must shorten his stay on the Border?'

'Yes, do so,' said Lady Merton; 'and tell him not to lose his keys as
usual.'

'I suppose they are gone by this time,' said Anne, as Lady Merton left
the room, and she sat down to her desk to write to her brother.

CHAPTER II.

Abbeychurch St. Mary's was a respectable old town, situated at the foot
of St. Austin's Hill, a large green mound of chalk, named from an
establishment of Augustine Friars, whose monastery (now converted into
alms-houses) and noble old church were the pride of the county.
Abbeychurch had been a quiet dull place, scarcely more than a large
village, until the days of railroads, when the sober inhabitants, and
especially the Vicar and his family, were startled by the news that the
line of the new Baysmouth railway was marked out so as to pass exactly
through the centre of the court round which the alms-houses were built.
Happily, however, the difficulty of gaining possession of the property
required for this course, proved too great even for the railway
company, and they changed the line, cutting their way through the
opposite side of St. Austin's Hill, and spoiling three or four
water-meadows by the river. Soon after the completion of this work,
the town was further improved, by the erection of various rows of smart
houses, which arose on the slope of the hill, once the airy and healthy
play-place of the rising generation of Abbeychurch, and the best spot
for flying kites in all the neighbourhood. London tradesmen were
tempted to retire to 'the beautiful and venerable town of Abbe