have met at least a dozen times during the winter and
autumn, and the very thought of finding _him_ in a place would decide
_me_ to leave it."

It was not Layton's business to correct what he deemed faulty in this
sentiment; but in the sharp glance he threw towards his pupil, he
seemed to convey his disapproval of it.

"'My Coach,' Mr. Layton, is dying to tell us both we are wrong, sir,"
said the boy; "he likes the 'kernal.'" And this he said with a nasal
twang whose imitation was not to be mistaken.

Though Heathcote laughed at the boy's mimicry, his attention was
more taken by the expression "my Coach," which not only revealed
the relations of tutor and pupil between them, but showed, by its
familiarity, that the youth stood in no great awe of his preceptor.

Perhaps Layton had no fancy for this liberty before a stranger; perhaps
he felt ashamed of the position itself; perhaps he caught something in
Heathcote's quick glance towards him,--whatever it was, he was irritated
and provoked, and angrily bit his lip, without uttering a word.

"Oh, here come the sight-seers! they are doing the grounds, and the
grottos, and the marble fountains," cried the boy, as a large group came
out from a flower-garden and took their way towards an orangery. As they
issued forth, however, Mrs. Morris stopped to caress a very large
St. Bernard dog, who lay chained at the foot of an oak-tree. Charles
Heathcote had not time to warn her of her danger, when the animal sprang
fiercely at her. Had she not fallen suddenly backward, she must have
been fearfully mangled; as it was, she received a severe wound in the
wrist, and, overcome by pain and terror together, sank fainting on the
sward.

For some time the confusion was extreme. Some thought that the dog was
at liberty, and fled away in terror across the park; others averred
that he was--must be--mad, and his bite fatal; a few tried to be useful;
but Quackinboss hurried to the river, and, filling his hat with water,
sprinkled the cold face of the sufferer and washed the wound, carefully
binding it up with his handkerchief in a quick, business-like way, that
showed he was not new to such casualties.

Layton meanwhile took charge of the little girl, whose cries and screams
were heartrending.

"What a regular day of misfortunes, this!" said Agin-court, as he
followed the mournful procession while they carried the still fainting
figure back to the house. "I fancy you 'll not let another b