eet us."

"Hurle Mere is where the governess will be, sir, if your coachman
follows my directions," pursued young Pedgift. "We have got nearly an
hour's punting to do, along the twists and turns of the narrow waters
(which they call The Sounds here) between this and Hurle Mere; and
according to my calculations we must get on board again in five minutes,
if we are to be in time to meet the governess and to meet your friend."

"We mustn't miss my friend on any account," said Allan; "or the
governess, either, of course. I'll tell the major."

Major Milroy was at that moment preparing to mount the wooden
watch-tower of the cottage to see the view. The ever useful Pedgift
volunteered to go up with him, and rattle off all the necessary local
explanations in half the time which the reed-cutter would occupy in
describing his own neighborhood to a stranger.

Allan remained standing in front of the cottage, more quiet and more
thoughtful than usual. His interview with young Pedgift had brought his
absent friend to his memory for the first time since the picnic party
had started. He was surprised that Midwinter, so much in his thoughts on
all other occasions, should have been so long out of his thoughts now.
Something troubled him, like a sense of self-reproach, as his mind
reverted to the faithful friend at home, toiling hard over the steward's
books, in his interests and for his sake. "Dear old fellow," thought
Allan, "I shall be so glad to see him at the Mere; the day's pleasure
won't be complete till he joins us!"

"Should I be right or wrong, Mr. Armadale, if I guessed that you were
thinking of somebody?" asked a voice, softly, behind him.

Allan turned, and found the major's daughter at his side. Miss Milroy
(not unmindful of a certain tender interview which had taken place
behind a carriage) had noticed her admirer standing thoughtfully by
himself, and had determined on giving him another opportunity, while her
father and young Pedgift were at the top of the watch-tower.

"You know everything," said Allan, smiling. "I _was_ thinking of
somebody."

Miss Milroy stole a glance at him--a glance of gentle encouragement.
There could be but one human creature in Mr. Armadale's mind after what
had passed between them that morning! It would be only an act of mercy
to take him back again at once to the interrupted conversation of a few
hours since on the subject of names.

"I have been thinking of somebody, too," she said,