he bells rang out suddenly.

Charles thought they were full early.

"Mr. Alwynn will wake up now," said Ruth; "I will tell him you are
here."

But before she had time to do more than rise from her chair, Mr. Alwynn
came slowly round the yew hedge, and stopped suddenly in front of the
chestnut-tree, amazed at what he saw beneath it. His mild eyes gazed
blankly at Charles through his spectacles, gathering a pained expression
as they peered over the top of them, which did not lessen when they fell
on Ruth.

Charles explained in a few words the purport of his visit, which had
already explained itself quite sufficiently to Mr. Alwynn; and
mentioning that he had waited in the hope of presently finding Mr.
Alwynn "disengaged" (at this Mr. Alwynn blushed a little), asked leave
to walk as far as the church with him to consult him on a small matter,
etc. It was a neat sentence, but it did not sound quite so well the
third time. It had lost by the heathenish and vain repetitions to which
it had been subjected.

"Certainly, certainly," said Mr. Alwynn, mollified, but still
discomposed. "You should have waked me, Ruth;" turning reproachfully to
his niece, whose conduct had never, in his eyes, fallen short of
perfection till this moment. "Little nap after luncheon. Hardly asleep.
You should have waked me."

"There was Aunt Fanny," said Ruth, feeling as if she had committed some
grave sin.

"Ah-h!" said Mr. Alwynn, as if her reason were a weighty one, his memory
possibly recalling the orchestral flourish which as a rule heralded his
wife's return to consciousness. "True, true, my dear. I must be going,"
as the chime ceased. "Are you coming to church this afternoon?"

Ruth replied that she was not, and Mr. Alwynn and Charles departed
together, Charles ruefully remembering that he had still to ask advice
on a subject the triviality of which would hardly allow of two opinions.

Ruth watched them walk away together, and then went back noiselessly
into the drawing-room.

Mrs. Alwynn was sitting bolt upright, her feet upon the floor, her gown
upon the sofa. Her astonished eyes were fixed upon the dwindling figures
of Mr. Alwynn and Charles.

"Goodness, Ruth!" she exclaimed, "who is that white waistcoat walking
with your uncle?"

Ruth explained.

"Dear me! And as likely as not he came to see the new screen. I know
Mrs. Thursby tells everybody about it. And his own house so full of
beautiful things too. Was ever anything so