siveness, a sort of gentle remoteness of look which had piqued his
curiosity. The mother meanwhile was drinking in the compliments of Dr.
Baker.

'Excellent!' cried Elsmere. 'How in the name of fortune, Miss Leyburn,
if I may ask, has your sister managed to get on so far in this remote
place?'

'She goes to Manchester every year to some relations we have there,'
said Catherine quietly; 'I believe she has been very well taught.'

'But surely,' he said warmly, 'it is more than teaching--more even than
talent--there is something like genius in it?'

She did not answer very readily.

'I don't know,' she said at last. 'Everyone says it is very good.'

He would have been repelled by her irresponsiveness but that her last
words had in them a note of lingering, of wistfulness, as though
the subject were connected with an inner debate not yet solved which
troubled her. He was puzzled, but certainly not repelled.

Twenty minutes later everybody was going. The Seatons went first, and
the other guests lingered awhile afterward to enjoy the sense of freedom
left by their departure. But at last the Mayews, father and son, set
off on foot to walk home over the moonlit mountains; the doctor tucked
himself and his daughter into his high gig and drove off with a sweeping
ironical bow to Rose, who had stood on the steps teasing him to the
last; and Robert Elsmere offered to escort the Miss Leyburns and their
mother home.

Mrs. Thornburgh was left protesting to the vicar's incredulous ears that
never--never as long as she lived--would she have Mrs. Seaton inside her
doors again.

'Her manners'--cried the vicar's wife, fuming-'her manners would
disgrace a Whinborough shop-girl. She has none-positively none!'

Then suddenly her round, comfortable face brightened and broadened out
into a beaming smile--

'But, after all, William, say what you will--and you always do say the
most unpleasant things you can think of--it was a great success. I
know the Leyburns enjoyed it. And as for Robert, I saw him
_looking_--_looking_--at that little minx Rose while she was playing
as if he couldn't take his eyes off her. What a picture she made, to be
sure!'

The vicar, who had been standing with his back to fireplace and his
hands in his pockets, received his wife's remarks first of all with
lifted eyebrows, and then with a low chuckle, half scornful, half
compassionate, which made her start in her chair.

'Rose?' he said, impatiently. 'Ros