Lucy, a pale, quiet, delicate-looking creature, a year
younger. Rupert Merton was still missing; but his movements were
always so uncertain, that his family were in no uneasiness on his
account.

As Mrs. Woodbourne was advancing to kiss Harriet, a loud sharp 'yap'
was heard from something in the arms of the latter; Mrs. Woodbourne
started, turned pale, and looked so much alarmed, that Anne could not
laugh. Harriet, however, was not so restrained, but laughed loudly as
she placed upon a chair a little Blenheim spaniel, with a blue ribbon
round his neck, and called to her sister Lucy to 'look after Fido.' It
presently appeared that the little dog had been given to them at the
last place where they had been staying on the road to Abbeychurch; and
Mrs. Hazleby and her eldest daughter continued for some time to
expatiate upon the beauty and good qualities of Fido, as well as those
of all his kith and kin. He was not, however, very cordially welcomed
by anyone at the Vicarage; for Mr. Woodbourne greatly disliked little
dogs in the house, his wife dreaded them much among her children, and
there were symptoms of a deadly feud between him and Elizabeth's only
pet, the great black cat, Meg Merrilies. But still his birth,
parentage, and education, were safe subjects of conversation; and all
were sorry when Mrs. Hazleby had exhausted them, and began to remark
how thin Elizabeth looked--to tell a story of a boy who had died of a
fever, some said of neglect, at the school where Horace was--to hint at
the possibility of Rupert's having been lost on the Scottish mountains,
blown up on the railroad, or sunk in a steam-vessel--to declare that
girls were always spoiled by being long absent from home, and to dilate
on the advantages of cheap churches.

She had nearly all the conversation to herself, the continual sound of
her voice being only varied by Harriet's notes and comments, given in a
pert shrill, high key, and by a few syllables in answer from Lady
Merton and Mrs. Woodbourne. The two gentlemen, happily for themselves,
had a great quantity of plans and accounts of the church to look over
together, which were likely to occupy them through the whole of Sir
Edward's visit. Elizabeth was busy numbering the Consecration tickets
for the next day, and Anne in helping her, so that they sat quietly
together in the inner drawing-room during the greater part of the
evening.

When they went up-stairs to bed, Elizabeth exclaimed, 'Oh!