wer to draw free confidences, till
to her own surprise Darsie found herself discussing fluently the all-
important subject of her own future, and setting forth her hopes and
fears in relation to a scholarship for Newnham. On this, as on almost
every topic which came up for discussion, the old woman and the girl
held almost diametrically opposite opinions, but so far Darsie had
contrived to subdue her impatience, and to listen with some appearance
of humility to Lady Hayes's somewhat sententious criticism.

"But I wonder if it can last!" she was asking herself doubtfully this
afternoon, as she pedalled through the sweet-smelling lanes. "I wonder
if I can possibly go on being so unnaturally good without falling ill
from the strain! How I hope the Percival girls will be at home! If I
can let off steam for an hour, and make as much noise as I like, it will
be no end of a relief, and help me to last out without a relapse. I'd
hate to have a relapse and spoil it all, just when I'm trying so hard;
and she's really a dear, _quite_ an old dear! I love to please her.
Whenever I begin to feel scratchy I must make an excuse and get over to
the Percivals for an hour to be soothed down. I do _hope_ they are in
to-day!"

But alas! the butler announced "Not at home," in reply to Darsie's
inquiry, then, seeing the blank disappointment on the young face, he
added graciously: "The young ladies are out for a ride. They will
probably be home about four o'clock. Will you not step in and wait?"

Darsie brightened instantly. Four o'clock, and she had promised to be
back by five. Yes, she could enjoy half an hour's talk, and still leave
ample time for the ride home, but as it was now barely three o'clock she
did not feel tempted by the prospect of sitting cooped in the house for
so long a time.

"Thank you," she said briskly. "I should like to wait, but I think I'll
stay in the garden. Perhaps you would be kind enough to tell them when
they return."

The man bowed and withdrew, and Darsie strolled away in the direction of
the rose pergola, the beauty of which had attracted her so greatly on
her first visit. She wandered up and down the archways, sniffed at the
fragrance of the late blooms which still remained, indulged in a little
of the sentimental poetising which seems to flow so readily when one is
"alone among the roses," began to grow bored, wandered aimlessly ahead,
grew very bored indeed, and, consulting her watch, was