uld like to know how far that
helps a person in a strange place. Perhaps you know no more where Miss
Ladd's school is than I do? or, perhaps, you don't care to take the
trouble of addressing me? Just what I should have expected from a person
of your sex! Good-morning."

Alban felt the reproof; she had appealed to his most readily-impressible
sense--his sense of humor. He rather enjoyed seeing his own prejudice
against women grotesquely reflected in this flighty stranger's prejudice
against men. As the best excuse for himself that he could make, he gave
her all the information that she could possibly want--then tried
again to pass on--and again in vain. He had recovered his place in her
estimation: she had not done with him yet.

"You know all about the way there," she said "I wonder whether you know
anything about the school?"

No change in her voice, no change in her manner, betrayed any special
motive for putting this question. Alban was on the point of suggesting
that she should go on to the school, and make her inquiries there--when
he happened to notice her eyes. She had hitherto looked him straight in
the face. She now looked down on the road. It was a trifling change;
in all probability it meant nothing--and yet, merely because it was a
change, it roused his curiosity. "I ought to know something about the
school," he answered. "I am one of the masters."

"Then you're just the man I want. May I ask your name?"

"Alban Morris."

"Thank you. I am Mrs. Rook. I presume you have heard of Sir Jervis
Redwood?"

"No."

"Bless my soul! You are a scholar, of course--and you have never heard
of one of your own trade. Very extraordinary. You see, I am Sir Jervis's
housekeeper; and I am sent here to take one of your young ladies back
with me to our place. Don't interrupt me! Don't be a brute again! Sir
Jervis is not of a communicative disposition. At least, not to me. A
man--that explains it--a man! He is always poring over his books and
writings; and Miss Redwood, at her great age, is in bed half the day.
Not a thing do I know about this new inmate of ours, except that I am
to take her back with me. You would feel some curiosity yourself in my
place, wouldn't you? Now do tell me. What sort of girl is Miss Emily
Brown?"

The name that he was perpetually thinking of--on this woman's lips!
Alban looked at her.

"Well," said Mrs. Rook, "am I to have no answer? Ah, you want leading.
So like a man again! Is she pretty