pon the company generally, and pushed them
out of the room, so to speak, with his eyes; even Miss Lavinia was
forced to obey, and disappeared.

Five minutes afterwards, Verty might have been seen taking his way
back sadly, on his little animal, toward the hills, while Redbud was
undergoing that most disagreeable of all ceremonies, a "lecture,"
which lecture was delivered by Miss Lavinia, in her own private
apartment, with a solemnity, which caused Redbud to class herself with
the greatest criminals which the world had ever produced. Miss
Lavinia proved, conclusively, that all persons of the male sex were
uninterruptedly engaged in endeavoring to espouse all persons of the
female sex, and that the world, generally, was a vale of tears, of
scheming and deception. Having elevated and cheered Redbud's spirits,
by this profound philosophy, and further enlivened her by declaring
that she must leave Apple Orchard on the morrow, Miss Lavinia
descended.

She entered the dining-room where the Squire and Mr. Rushton were
talking, and took her seat near the window. Mr. Rushton immediately
became dumb.

Miss Lavinia said it was a fine day.

Mr. Rushton growled.

Miss Lavinia made one or two additional attempts to direct the
conversation on general topics; but the surly guest strangled her
incipient attempts with pitiless indifference. Finally, Miss Lavinia
sailed out of the room with stately dignity, and disappeared.

Mr. Rushton looked after her, smiling grimly.

"The fact is, Squire," he said, "that your cousin, Miss Lavinia, is a
true woman. Hang it, can't a man come and talk a little business with
a neighbor without being intruded upon? Outrageous!"

The Squire seemed to regard his guest's surliness with as little
attention as Verty had displayed.

"A true woman in other ways is she, Rushton," he said, smiling--"I
grant you she is a little severe and prim, and fond of taking her
dignified portion of every conversation; but she's a faithful and
high-toned woman. You have seen too much character in your Courts to
judge of the kernel from the husk."

"The devil take the Courts! I'm sick of 'em," said Mr. Rushton, with
great fervor, "and as to _character_, there is no character anywhere,
or in anybody." Having enunciated which proposition, Mr. Rushton rose
to go.

The Squire rose too, holding him by the button.

"I'd like to argue that point with you," he said, laughing. "Come now,
tell me how--"

"I won't--I refu