e is she?" Amelius asked, as the girl
opened the gate for him.

"Waiting for you in the shrubbery. Stop, sir; I have something to say to
you first."

Amelius took out his purse, and produced the fee. Even he had observed
that Phoebe was perhaps a little too eager to get her money!

"Thank you, sir. Please to look at your watch. You mustn't be with Miss
Regina a moment longer than a quarter of an hour."

"Why not?"

"This is the time, sir, when Mrs. Ormond is engaged every day with
her cook and housekeeper. In a quarter of an hour the orders will be
given--and Mrs. Ormond will join Miss Regina for a walk in the grounds.
You will be the ruin of me, sir, if she finds you here." With that
warning, the maid led the way along the winding paths of the shrubbery.

"I must thank you for your letter, Phoebe," said Amelius, as he followed
her. "By-the-by, who was your messenger?"

Phoebe's answer was no answer at all. "Only a young man, sir," she said.

"In plain words, your sweetheart, I suppose?"

Phoebe's expressive silence was her only reply. She turned a corner, and
pointed to her mistress standing alone before the entrance of a damp and
deserted summer-house.

Regina put her handkerchief to her eyes, when the maid had discreetly
retired. "Oh," she said softly, "I am afraid this is very wrong."

Amelius removed the handkerchief by the exercise of a little gentle
force, and administered comfort under the form of a kiss. Having opened
the proceedings in this way, he put his first question, "Why did you
leave London?"

"How could I help it!" said Regina, feebly. "They were all against me.
What else could I do?"

It occurred to Amelius that she might, at her age, have asserted a will
of her own. He kept his idea, however, to himself, and, giving her his
arm, led her slowly along the path of the shrubbery. "You have heard, I
suppose, what Mr. Farnaby expects of me?" he said.

"Yes, dear."

_"I_ call it worse than mercenary--I call it downright brutal."

"Oh, Amelius, don't talk so!"

Amelius came suddenly to a standstill. "Does that mean you agree with
him?" he asked.

"Don't be angry with me, dear. I only meant there was some excuse for
him."

"What excuse?"

"Well, you see, he has a high idea of your family, and he thought you
were rich people. And--I know you didn't mean it, Amelius--but, still,
you did disappoint him."

Amelius dropped her arm. This mildly-persistent defence of Mr. Farnaby
exaspera