er husband and son in front.
The gesture awakened a certain natural reserve in Mrs. Colwood, followed
by a quick feeling of amusement with herself that she should so soon
have developed the instinct of the watch-dog. But it was not to be
denied that the new mistress of Beechcote was well endowed, as single
women go. Fond mothers with marriageable sons might require some
handling.

But Mrs. Roughsedge's simple kindness soon baffled distrust. And Mrs.
Colwood was beginning to talk freely, when suddenly the Vicar and Miss
Mallory in front came to a stop. The way to the Vicarage lay along a
side road. The Roughsedges also, who had walked so far for sociability's
sake, must return to the village and early dinner. The party broke up.
Miss Mallory, as she made her good-byes, appeared a little flushed and
discomposed. But the unconscious fire in her glance, and the vigor of
her carriage, did but add to her good looks. Captain Roughsedge, as he
touched her hand, asked whether he should find her at home that
afternoon if he called, and Diana absently said yes.

"What a strange impracticable man!" cried Miss Mallory hotly, as the
ladies turned into the Beechcote drive. "It is really a misfortune to
find a man of such opinions in this place."

"The Vicar?" said Mrs. Colwood, bewildered

"A Little Englander!--a _socialist_! And so _rude_ too! I asked him to
let me help him with, his poor--and he threw back my offers in my face.
What they wanted, he said, was not charity, but justice. And justice
apparently means cutting up the property of the rich, and giving it to
the poor. Is it my fault if the Vavasours neglected their cottages? I
just mentioned emigration, and he foamed! I am sure he would give away
the Colonies for a pinch of soap, and abolish the Army and Navy
to-morrow."

Diana's face glowed with indignation--with wounded feeling besides. Mrs.
Colwood endeavored to soothe her, but she remained grave and rather
silent for some time. The flow of Christmas feeling and romantic
pleasure had been arrested, and the memory of a harsh personality
haunted the day. In the afternoon, however, in the unpacking of various
pretty knick-knacks, and in the putting away of books and papers, Diana
recovered herself. She flitted about the house, arranging her favorite
books, hanging pictures, and disposing embroideries. The old walls
glowed afresh under her hand, and from the combination of their antique
beauty with her young taste, a hom