Silhouetted against the light were the heads of two women; the
rough young head of yesterday's Esther, the lean outline and bugled cap
of Esther's aunt.

It was the latter who at the jingling of the doorbell rose from her work
and came forward to serve the customer; but the girl, with much mute
meaning in her eyes, and a finger laid upon her smiling mouth, followed
behind. Her aunt heard her footfall. 'What do you want here, Esther?'
she said with thin disapproval; 'get back to your sewing.'

Esther gave the young man a signal seen only by him and slipped out into
the side-garden, where he found her when his purchases were made. She
leaned over the privet-hedge to intercept him as he passed.

'Aunt's an awful ole maid,' she remarked apologetically; 'I b'lieve
she'd never let me say a word to enny one if she could help it.'

'So you got home all right last night?' Willoughby inquired; 'what did
your aunt say to you?'

'Oh, she arst me where I'd been, and I tolder a lotter lies.' Then, with
a woman's intuition, perceiving that this speech jarred, Esther made
haste to add, 'She's so dreadful hard on me. I dursn't tell her I'd been
with a gentleman or she'd never have let me out alone again.'

'And at present I suppose you'll be found somewhere about that same
stile every evening?' said Willoughby foolishly, for he really did not
much care whether he met her again or not. Now he was actually in her
company, he was surprised at himself for having given her a whole
morning's thought; yet the eagerness of her answer flattered him, too.

'Tonight I can't come, worse luck! It's Thursday, and the shops here
close of a Thursday at five. I'll havter keep aunt company. But
tomorrer? I can be there tomorrer. You'll come, say?'

'Esther!' cried a vexed voice, and the precise, right-minded aunt
emerged through a row of raspberry-bushes; 'whatever are you thinking
about, delayin' the gentleman in this fashion?' She was full of rustic
and official civility for 'the gentleman', but indignant with her niece.
'I don't want none of your London manners down here,' Willoughby heard
her say as she marched the girl off.

He himself was not sorry to be released from Esther's too friendly eyes,
and he spent an agreeable evening over a book, and this time managed to
forget her completely.

Though he remembered her first thing next morning, it was to smile
wisely and determine he would not meet her again. Yet by dinner-time the
day seeme