g party, for horses held by
grooms stood at the door, and two at least of the ladies in the
drawing-room wore riding habits.

In conversation with one of these--a pretty fair-haired girl of some
twenty years--stood Reginald Gower. "Will your sister ride to-day, do
you know?" he was asking, in somewhat anxious tones.

"Gertie? No, I think not; she has a particular engagement this morning.
I don't exactly know what it is, but she will not be one of the party.
So, Mr. Gower, you and Arthur Barton will have to put up with only the
company of myself and Cousin Mary."

Ere the young man could reply, the door opened, and a girl dressed in a
dark summer serge and light straw hat entered. She carried a small
leather bag in her hand, and was greeted with exclamations of dismay
from more than one of the party.

"Are you going slumming to-day, Gertie? What a shame! And the sun so
bright, and yet a cool air--just the most delightful sort of day for a
ride; and we are going to call on your favourite aunt Mary."

"Give her my love then," replied Gertie, "and tell her I hope to ride
over one of those days and see her. No, I cannot possibly go with you
to-day, as I have an engagement elsewhere."

"An engagement in the slums! Who ever heard of such a thing?" said her
sister and cousin together.

"I am sorry to disappoint you, Lily dear, and my cousin also; but I had
promised two or three poor people to see them to-day before I knew
anything of this riding party, and I am sure I am right not to
disappoint them.--And, Mr. Gower, I know your mother at least would not
think I was wrong."

"That is true, Miss Warden. My mother thinks far more about giving
pleasure to the poor than she does about the wishes of the rich. But
could you not defer this slumming business till to-morrow, and give us
the pleasure of your company to-day?"

But she shook her head, and assuring them they would get on very well
without her, she turned to leave the room, saying as she did so, "O
Lily, do find out if it is true that Aunt Mary's old governess, Miss
Drechsler, of whom we have all heard so much, is coming to visit her
soon, and is bringing with her the young violinist who lives with her,
and who people say was a child found in the Black Forest. I do so want
to know all about her. We must try and get her to come here some
evening, and ask Dr. Heinz, who plays so well upon the violin, to meet
her; and you also, Mr. Gower, for I know you dearly love m