foreground. Miss Briskett retreated hastily into the drawing-room, and
her niece followed, casting curious glances to right and to left.

"You've got a real cosy little house, Aunt Soph. It looks real
English--not a mite like our place at home. Is that tea? I'm just
about dying for a cup of tea, and so's Mr Ross. Don't you want a cup
of tea more than anything in the world, Mr Ross? I see you do by the
way you look!"

She sank into an easy chair, and flashed a mischievous glance at the
young man by her side. He was a tall, well-built young fellow, with the
square shoulders and aggressive chin which to the English eye are the
leading characteristics of American men. He had the air of being
exceedingly well able to look after himself, but even his self-
possession wavered before the frosty nature of his reception. He stood
irresolutely, hat in hand, waiting for a repetition of Cornelia's
invitation, but none came, and with an almost imperceptible shrug of the
shoulders, he resigned himself to the inevitable, and announced that it
was imperative that he should hasten back to the station to catch a
return train to town. He proceeded, therefore, to take leave of his
travelling companion, a proceeding characterised on his side by
transparent regret, on hers by an equally transparent indifference.

"You'll be sure to let me know when you come home!"

"Yes, indeed! I'll write when I start, and you shall come down to meet
the boat. Good-bye! You've been real kind! I'm ever so much obliged!"

"Oh, I've enjoyed it enormously. You must be sure to let me know if
there is anything I can do--at any time--anywhere!" repeated the young
fellow, ardently.

He bowed to Miss Briskett, who extended her hand in patronising
farewell, accompanying him to the door of the room, less, it appeared,
from motives of kindliness, than to satisfy herself that he had really
departed.

On her return she found that her niece had taken off her hat, and was
leaning back in her chair, sticking hat-pins through the crown with
smiling complacence. Miss Briskett surveyed her with not unnatural
curiosity, and came to the swift conclusion that she was not at all
pretty, but most objectionably remarkable in appearance. The sort of
girl whom people would stare at in the street; the sort of girl whom
Norton would emphatically disapprove! Her hair in itself was arresting.
Miss Briskett had never seen such hair. It was not red, it was not
gold