m, and that Miss Rivers had never looked up.

"Poor Sir Henry!" said Dr. May.

"He has no right to be surprised," said Meta, very low.

"And so you were marching right upon Drydale!" continued Dr. May, not
able to help laughing. "It was a happy dispensation that I met you."

"Oh, I am so glad of it!" said Meta.

"Though to be sure you were disarming suspicion by so cautiously keeping
the road between you. I should never have guessed what you had been at."

There was a little pause, then Meta said, rather tremulously, "Please--I
think it should be known at once."

"Our idle deeds confessed without loss of time, miss?"

Norman came across the path, saying, "Meta is right--it should be
known."

"I don't think Uncle Cosham would object, especially hearing it while he
is here," said Meta--"and if he knew what you told us."

"He goes to-morrow, does he not?" said Dr. May.

A silence of perplexity ensued. Meta, brave as she was, hardly knew her
uncle enough to volunteer, and Norman was privately devising a beginning
by the way of George, when Dr. May said, "Well, since it is not a case
for putting Ethel in the forefront, I must e'en get it over for you, I
suppose."

"Oh, thank you," they cried both at once, feeling that he was the
proper person in every way, and Norman added, "The sooner the better, if
Meta--"

"Oh, yes, yes, the sooner the better," exclaimed Meta. "And let me tell
Flora--poor dear Flora--she is always so kind."

A testimony that was welcome to Dr. May, who had once, at least, been
under the impression that Flora courted Sir Henry's attentions to her
sister-in-law.

Further consultation was hindered by Tom and Blanche bursting upon them
from the common, both echoing Norman's former reproach of "A pretty
guide!" and while Blanche explained the sufferings of all the assembly
at their tardiness, Tom, without knowing it, elucidated what had been a
mystery to the doctor, namely, how they ever met, by his indignation at
Norman's having assumed the guidance for which he was so unfit.

"A shocking leader; Meta will never trust him again," said Dr. May.

Still Blanche thought them not nearly sufficiently sensible of
their enormities, and preached eagerly about their danger of losing
standing-room, when they emerged on the moor, and beheld a crowd,
above whose heads rose the apex of a triangle, formed by three poles,
sustaining a rope and huge stone.

"Here comes Dr. Spencer," she said. "I hope he