adcap girl and had all sorts of daring adventures.

Phillis was quite fascinated; she was even disappointed when Miss
Mewlstone pointed out the lateness of the hour.

"I have enjoyed myself so much," she said, as she put on her hat.

"I meant you to enjoy yourself," returned Mrs. Cheyne, quietly, as she
drew the girl's face down to hers. "I have given you such a bad
impression that you look on me as a sort of moral bugbear. I can be
very different, when I like, and I have liked to be agreeable
to-night." And then this strange woman took up a rich cashmere shawl
from the couch where she was lying, and folded it around Phillis's
shoulders. "The evenings are chilly. Jeffreys can bring this back with
her;" for Mrs. Cheyne had already decided that this time her maid
should accompany Phillis to the cottage.

Phillis laughed in an amused fashion as she saw the reflection of
herself in one of the mirrors: her figure looked quite queenly
enveloped in the regal drapery. "She has forgotten all about the
dressmaking," she thought to herself, as she tripped downstairs.

It was a lovely moonlight evening; the avenue was white and glistening
in the soft light; the trees cast weird shadows on the grass. Phillis
was somewhat surprised to see in the distance Mr. Dancy's tall figure
pacing to and fro before the lodge-gate. He was evidently waiting for
her; for as she approached he threw away his cigar and joined her at
once. Jeffreys, who thought he was some old acquaintance, dropped
behind very discreetly, after the manner of waiting-women.

"How long you have stayed this evening! I have been walking up and
down for more than an hour, watching for you," he began, with curious
abruptness.

This and no more did Jeffreys hear before she lingered out of earshot.
The lady's maid thought she perceived an interesting situation, and
being of a susceptible and sympathetic temperament, with a blighted
attachment of her own, there was no fear of her intruding. Phillis
looked around once, but Jeffreys was absorbed in her contemplations of
the clouds.

"I thought you were never coming," he continued; and then he stopped
all at once, and caught hold of the fringe of the shawl. "This is not
yours: I am sure I have seen Magdalene in it. Pshaw! what am I saying?
the force of old habit. I knew her once as Magdalene."

"It is dreadfully heavy, and, after all, the evening is so warm,"
returned Phillis, taking no notice of this incoherent speech.