he day when we also-- But what about that draught? Five
minutes in your consulting-room, if you please, and then Master Jack can
kindly get me a cab. I will not trust myself in the streets again to-
day."

Another twinkling glance at the twins, and the old gentleman raised
himself slowly from his chair, and followed the doctor from the room,
leaving the three young people staring at each other breathlessly.

"This _is_ a day!" cried Jill, with a caper of delight. "We've made two
new friends! The pretty lady says she is coming to call, and we must go
to tea, and then this jolly old man... What a brick he is! He didn't
mind scolding us himself, but he wouldn't let anyone else do it. Jack,
do be awfully nice when you get the cab, and offer to see him home.
Tell him how grateful we are. Hint like anything to make him invite us
there!"

"Trust me for that!" cried Jack.

CHAPTER EIGHT.

MRS. VANBURGH'S PLANS.

The pretty lady came to call the very next week. Mrs Trevor and Betty
were busy sewing in the upstairs workroom when the maid brought up the
card, and the first sight of it brought no enlightenment.

"Mrs Gervase Vanburgh! Goodness! What a fine name! Who can she be?
Do you know who it is, mother?"

"Not in the least, dear. One of the neighbours, perhaps. We will go
down and see."

Betty smoothed her hair before the looking-glass, and then as carefully
fluffed it out, shook her skirt free from the little ends of thread
which would stick to the rough blue cloth, and followed her mother to
the drawing-room, for now that she was over seventeen it was Mrs
Trevor's wish that she should learn to help in social duties. Half-way
downstairs inspiration dawned. "I believe it's the pretty lady! Jill
said she was coming!" she whispered breathlessly. The pleasant
expectation brought a flush into her cheeks, and an added animation into
her eyes, so that it was in her most attractive guise that she entered
the drawing-room in her mother's train.

Yes! It was the pretty lady and no one else, prettier than ever in her
very smartest clothes, sitting in orthodox fashion, on a stiff upright
chair, card-case in hand, and discussing the weather and the advantages
and disadvantages of the neighbourhood with the sedateness of an old
married woman; yet ever and anon as she glanced at Betty there was a
something in her face,--a smile, a tremble, a momentary uplifting of the
eyebrow,--which bespoke an unspoken s