ged
path across the narrow grass-plat in front of the old two-storied house,
with a tiled verandah like an eyebrow to the lower front windows.

Instead of entering by the door in the centre, he turned the corner
of the house, where the eastern gable disclosed a window opening on a
sloping lawn full of bright flower-beds. The room within was lined
with books and stored with signs of parish work, but with a refined
orderliness reigning over the various little ornaments, and almost
betokening feminine habitation; and Alick exclaimed with admiration of a
large bowl of fresh roses, beautifully arranged.

"Traces of Bessie," said Mr. Clare; "she brought them this morning,
and spent nearly an hour in arranging them and entertaining me with her
bright talk. I have hardly been able to keep out of the room since, they
make it so delicious."

"Do you often see her?" asked Alick.

"Yes, dear child, she is most good-natured and attentive, and I take it
most kindly of her, so courted as she is."

"How do you get on with his lordship?"

"I don't come much in his way, he has been a good deal laid up with
sciatica, but he seems very fond of her; and it was all her doing that
they have been all this time at Littleworthy, instead of being in town
for the season. She thought it better for him."

"And where is Mr. Lifford?" asked Alick.

"Gone to M---- till Saturday."

"Unable to face the bride."

"I fear Ranger is not equally shy," said Mr. Clare, understanding a
certain rustle and snort to import that the dog was pressing his
chin hard upon Rachel's knee, while she declared her content with the
handsome creature's black depth of eye; and the cat executed a promenade
of tenderness upon Alick.

"How are the peacocks, Alick?" added Mr. Clare; "they, at least, are
inoffensive pets. I dreaded the shears without your superintendence, but
Joe insisted that they were getting lop-sided."

Alick put his head out at the window. "All right, sir; Joe has been a
little hard on the crest of the left-hand one, but it is recovering."

Whereupon, Rachel discovered that the peacocks were creatures of
yew-tree, perched at either end of the garden fence. Mr. Clare had found
them there, and preserved them with solicitous fidelity.

Nothing could be less like than he was to the grave, thin, stooping
ascetic in a long coat, that she had expected. He was a tall, well-made
man, of the same youthful cast of figure as his nephew, and a far
lighter