of _me_? But how did you
know we were going to London to-day, and how could you tell the ponies
would run away?"

"Never mind how I knew your movements, Miss Coventry," was the reply.
"Kate! may I call you Kate? it's such a soft, sweet name," he added,
now sitting altogether _inside_ the carriage, which certainly was a
small one for two people. "You don't know how I've watched for you,
and waited and prowled about, during the last few days. You don't know
how anxious I've been only for one word--even one look. I've spent
hours out on the Down just to see the flutter of your white dress as
you went through the shrubbery--even at that distance it was something
to gaze at you and know you were there. Last night I crossed the ice
under your window."

"You did indeed!" I replied with a laugh; "and what a ducking you must
have got!"

Frank laughed too, and resumed. "I was sadly afraid that your aunt
might have found out you were holding a parley with the enemy outside
the walls. I knew you were to go to London to-day. I thought very
likely you might be annoyed, and put under surveillance on my account,
and I was resolved to see you, if only for one moment; so I borrowed
these ragged garments of a professional beggar, who I believe is a
great deal better off in reality than myself, and I determined to
watch for your carriage and trust to chance for a word, or even a
glance of recognition. She has befriended me more than I could expect.
At first, when I saw 'Aunt Deborah' alone in the chariot, it flashed
across me that perhaps you were to stay _en penitence_ at Dangerfield.
But I knew Lady Horsingham had a pony-carriage. I also knew--or what
would be the use of servants?--that it was ordered this morning; so I
stumped gaily along the road, thinking that at all events I might have
an opportunity of saying three words to you at the station whilst the
servants were putting the luggage on, and the dear aunts, who I
presume cherish a mutual hatred, were wishing each other a tender
farewell. But that such a chance as this runaway should befriend me
was more than I ever dared to hope for, and that I should be sitting
next _you_, Kate (and _so close_, I'm sure he might have added), in
Lady Horsingham's pony-phaeton is a piece of good luck that in my
wildest moments I never so much as dreamt of. We scarcely ever meet
now. There--you needn't drive so fast; the up-train don't go by till
the half-hour, and every minute is precious, at