youngest daughter and I are at Beach House at present; I am rather an
invalid, and the bustle would be too much for me. Dulce, we had better
have these things sent to Beach House.' And then the young lady
standing by her said, 'Oh, yes, mother; we shall want them this
evening.' And then they went out."

"There is a third sister, then?" observed Archie, not pretending to
disguise his interest in Mattie's recital.

"Yes, there is a third one: she is certainly a little like Isabel; she
has a dimple like hers, and is of the same height. I asked Miss
Milner, when they were out of hearing, if their name were Challoner,
and if they were the new people who were coming to live at the empty
cottage on the Braidwood Road. I thought she did not seem much
disposed to give me information. Yes, their name was Challoner, and
they had taken the Friary; but they were quite strangers in the town,
and no one knew anything about them. And then Miss Middleton chimed
in; she said her father had noticed the young ladies some weeks ago,
and had called her attention to them. They were very pretty girls, and
had quite taken his fancy; he had not forgotten them, and had spoken
of them that very morning. She supposed Mrs. Challoner must be a
widow, and not very well off: did Miss Milner know. Would you believe
it, Archie? Miss Milner got quite red, and looked confused. You know
how she enjoys a bit of gossip generally; but the questions seemed to
trouble her. 'They were not at all well off, she knew that, but nicer
young ladies she had never seen, or wished to see; and she hoped every
one would be kind to them, and not forget they were real born ladies,
in spite of----' And here the old thing got more confused than ever,
and came to a full stop, and begged to know how she could serve us."

"It is very strange,--very strange indeed," returned her brother, in a
meditative voice; but, as Mattie had nothing more to tell him, he did
not discuss the matter any further, only thanked her for her news, and
civilly dismissed her on the plea that his business was at a
stand-still.

But he did not resume his accounts for sometime after he was left
alone. Instead of doing so, he walked to the window and looked out in
a singularly absent manner. Mattie's news was somewhat exciting. The
idea of having such pleasant neighbors located within a stone's throw
of the vicarage was in itself disturbing to the imagination of a young
man of eight-and-twenty, even th