'Ah!' Phillis thought she heard a strange sound, almost like a groan, but, of course, it was fancy; and, just then, good Mrs. Williams came bustling downstairs.

'Dear heart! why, if it is not Miss Challoner ! To think of you, my dear miss, being out so late, and alone! Oh, whatever will your ma say?'

'My mother will scold me, of course,' returned Phillis, laughing; but you must not scold me too, Mrs. Williams, though I deserve all I get. Miss Mewlstone sent Evans with me, but I made him go back. Country girls are fearless, and it is only just a step to the Friary.'

The rain is stopping now, if you will permit me to escort you. Mrs. Williams will be the voucher for my respectability,' observed Mr. Dancy, very gravely and without a smile; and, as Phillis seemed inclined to put him off with an excuse, he continued, more seriously: 'Pardon me, but it is far too late, and the road far too lonely, for a young lady to go unattended. If you prefer it, I will go to the White House and bring out the recreant Evans by force.'

Oh no; there is no need for that,' observed Phillis hastily; and Mrs. Williams interposed volubly:

'Goodness sakes, Miss Challoner, you have no call to be afraid of Mr. Dancy! Why, Mr. Frank Blunt, that nice young gentleman who lodged with me ever so many years, recommended him to me as one of his best and oldest friends. Your ma knew Mr. Blunt, for he was here with her, and a nicerspoken young gentleman she said she never saw.'

That will do, Mrs. Williams,' returned Mr. Dancy, in rather a peremptory tone; and then, turning to Phillis, he said, more civilly, but still a little abruptly, as though he were displeased:

6

'Well, Miss Challoner, do you feel inclined to trust yourself with me for the few hundred yards, or shall I fetch Evans?' and Phillis, feeling herself rebuked, unfurled her umbrella at once, and bade Mrs. Williams good-night by way of answer.

CHAPTER XIII.

HILLIS felt rather shy and uncomfortable as she picked her way

warily among the rain-pools in the semi-darkness. Her companion was inclined to be silent. Most likely he considered her churlish in repelling his civil offers of help; so to make amends and set herself at her ease, she began to talk to him with an attempt at her old sprightliness.

'Do you know this neighbourhood well, Mr. Dancy? Have you been long at Ivy Cottage?'

6

Only a few days; but I know the place well enough,' he responded quietly. 'It depends upon circumstances how long I remain here.'

'Hadleigh is very quiet,' returned Phillis

quickly. It does not offer many attractions to strangers, unless they have very moderate views of enjoyment. It is select, and the bathing is good, and the country tolerable; but when you have said that, you have said all in its favour.'

6

'I have always liked the place,' with a checked sigh. Quiet-that is what I want, and rest also. I have been rather a wanderer over the face of the earth, and one wants a little breathing time occasionally, to recruit one's exhausted energies. I like Ivy Cottage, and I like Mrs. Williams-both suit me for the present. Are you a visitor to Hadleigha mere bird of passage like myself, Miss Challoner?'

'Oh dear no; we have come here to live.' 'And-and you are intimate with Mrs. Cheyne?' coming a little closer to her side in the darkness.

Nothing of the kind,' retorted Phillis; 'we are mere acquaintances. I do not feel to know her at all; she is not a person with whom one could get intimate all at once; is a little difficult; besides, in our position And here she pulled herself up suddenly.

she

'Pardon me,' returned Mr. Dancy, in an interested voice, 'perhaps I have no right to inquire, but your words are a little mysterious. Why should you not be intimate with Mrs. Cheyne ?'

What

Phillis grew hot in the darkness. right had he, a perfect stranger, to question her so closely? And yet if he were interested in his old friends, perhaps he meant to call at the White House, and then he would hear all about them; and after all, perfect frankness always answered best in the long run. Phillis hesitated so long over her rejoinder, that Mr. Dancy said, rather apologetically:

I see, I have been incautious; but you must not attribute my question to impertinent curiosity. I am anxious to learn all I can about a very old friend, of whom I have long lost sight, and I hoped that you might have been able to satisfy me.'

'Miss Middleton would tell you far more than I.'

'What, Elizabeth Middleton?

is far too much of a saint for me.'

Oh no, she

'You know her, too!' exclaimed Phillis in surprise. 'No, I do not think you are curious,