daylight,
and stay at home quietly in the evening like other young ladies?"

"Of course not," returned Phillis, promptly. She had not the least
idea why it could not be done; indeed, if she had been perfectly
cool--which she was not, for Mrs. Cheyne had decidedly stroked her the
wrong way and ruffled her past endurance--she would have appreciated
the temperate counsel vouchsafed her, and acquiesced in it without a
murmur; but now she seemed bent on contradiction.

"Our opinions seem to clash to-night," returned Mr. Drummond,
good-humoredly, but feeling that the young lady beside him had
decidedly a will of her own. "She is very nice, but she is not as
gentle as her sister," he said to himself; which was hard on Phillis,
who, though she was not meek, being a girl of spirit, was wholesomely
sweet and sound to the heart's core.

"One may be supposed to know one's business best," she replied rather
dryly to this. And then, fearing that she might seem ungracious to a
stranger, who did not know her and her little ways, she went on in a
more cordial tone: "I am afraid you think me a little cross to-night;
but I have been having a stand-up fight, and am rather tired. Trying
to battle against other people's prejudices makes one irritable. And
then, because I am down and out of heart about things, our clergyman
thinks fit to lecture me on propriety."

"Only for your good. You must forgive me if I have taken too much upon
myself," returned Mr. Drummond, with much compunction. "You seem so
lonely,--no father or brother; at least--pardon me--I believe you have
no brother?"

"Oh, no; we have no brother," sighed Phillis. Their acquaintance was
in too early a stage to warrant her in bringing in Dick's name.
Besides, that sort of heterogeneous relationship is so easily
misconstrued. And then she added, "I see. You meant to be very kind,
and I was very ungrateful."

"I only wish I could find some way of helping you all," was his reply
to this. But it was said with such frank kindness that Phillis's brief
haughtiness vanished. They were standing at the gate of the Friary by
this time; but Mr. Drummond still lingered. It was Phillis who
dismissed him.

"Good-night, and many thanks," she said, brightly. "It is too late to
ask you in, for you see, even dressmakers have their notions of
propriety." And as she uttered this malicious little speech, the young
man broke into a laugh that was heard by Dorothy in her little
kitchen.

"O