the britsehka? Or how reconcile her father 

 to iniquities so far surpassing even the 

 smell of musk ? 



. William, on his part, regarded his sister 

 with unqualified admiration. He had left a 

 laughing, blooming girl ; he found a deli- 

 cate and lovely young woman — all the more 

 lovely for the tears that mingled with her 

 smiles, true tokens of a most pure affection. 

 " And you really are glad to see me Susy? 

 And my father is well ? And here is the old 

 place, looking just as it used to do ; house, 

 and ricks, and barnyard, not quite in sight, 

 but one feels that one shall see them at the 

 next turning — the great coppice, right 

 opposite, looking thicker and greener than 

 ever. How often have we gone nutting in 

 that coppice ! — the tall holly at the gate, 

 with the woodbine climbing up and twisting 

 its sweet garlands round the very topmost 

 spray, like a coronet. Many a time and 

 often have I climbed the holly to twine 

 the flaunting wreath round your straw- 

 bonnet, Miss Susy. And here, on the other 

 side of the hedge, is the very field where 

 Hector and Harebell ran their famous 

 course, and gave their hare fifty turns be- 

 fore they killed ( her, without ever letting 

 her get out of the stubble. Those were 

 pleasant days, Susan, after all ! V 

 "Happy days, dear William!" 

 " And we shall go nutting again, shall we 

 not?" 



" Surely, dear brother ! Only ~" and 



Susan suddenly stopped. 

 " Only what, Miss Susy ? n 

 " Only I don't see how you can possibly 

 go into the copse in this dress. Think how 

 the brambles would prick and tear, and how 

 that chain would catch in the hazel stems ! 

 And as to climbing the holly-tree in that 

 fine tight coat, or beating the stubble for a 

 hare in those delicate thin shoes, why the 

 thing is out of the question. And I really 

 don't believe," continued Susan, finding it 

 easier to go on than to begin, " I really don't 

 believe that either Hector or Harebell 

 would know you, if they saw you so decked 

 out." 



William laughed outright. 

 " I don't mean to go coursing in these 

 shoes, I assure you, Susy. This is an evening 

 dress. I have a shooting-jacket, and all 

 thereunto belonging, in the britschka, which 

 will not puzzle either Harebell or Hector, 

 because it's just what they have been used 

 to see me wear.'' 



" Put it on then, I beseech you," exclaimed 

 Susy ; " put it on directly." 



" Why, I am not going coursing this even- 

 ing." 



" No — but my father ! Oh, dear William, 

 if you did but know how he hates finery, 

 and foreigners, and whiskers, and britschkas ! 



Oh, dear William, send off the French gen- 

 tleman and the outlandish carriage — run into 

 the coppice and put on the shooting-dress." 



" Oh, Susan," began William ; but Susan 

 having once summoned up courage sufficient 

 to put her remonstrances into words, fol- 

 lowed up the attack with an earnestness 

 that did not admit a moment's interruption. 



" My father hates finery even more than 

 either Harebell or Hector would do. You 

 know his country notions, dear William ; 

 and I think that latterly he has hated every- 

 thing that looks Londonish and new-fangled, 

 worse than ever. We are old-fashioned 

 people at Eutherford. There's your pretty 

 old friend, Mary Arnott, can't abide gew- 

 gaws any more than my father." 



" Mary Arnott ! You mean Mrs. Giles. 

 What do I care for her likes and dislikes ?" 

 exclaimed William, haughtily. 



" I mean Mary Arnott, and not Mrs. 

 Giles, and you do care for her likes and dis- 

 likes a great deal," replied his sister with 

 some archness. " Poor Mary, when the 

 week before that fixed for the wedding 

 arrived, felt that she could not marry Master 

 Jacob Giles ; so she found an opportunity 

 of speaking to him alone, and told him the 

 truth. I even believe, although I have no 

 warrant for saying so, that she confessed she 

 could not love him, because she loved 

 another. Master Giles behaved like a wise 

 man, and told her father that it would be 

 very wrong to force her inclinations. He 

 behaved kindly as well as wisely ; for he 

 endeavoured to reconcile all parties, and put 

 matters in train for the wedding that had 

 hindered his. This, at that time, Master 

 Arnott would not hear of, and therefore we 

 did not tell you that the marriage, which 

 you took for granted, had gone off. Till 

 about three months ago, that odious law- 

 suit was in full action, and Master Arnott as 

 violently set against my father as ever. 

 Then, however, he was taken ill, and, upon 

 his death-bed, he sent for his old friend, 

 begged his pardon, and appointed him 

 guardian to Mary. And there she is at 

 home — for she would not come to meet you 

 — but there she is, hoping to find you just 

 what you were when you went away, and 

 hating Frenchmen, and britschkas, and finery, 

 and the smell of musk, just as if she were 

 my father's daughter in good earnest. And 

 now, dear William, I know what has been 

 passing in your mind, quite as well as if 

 hearts were peep-shows, and one could see 

 to the bottom of them at the rate of a penny 

 a look. I know that you went away for 

 love of Mary, and flung yourself into the 

 finery of London to try to get rid of the 

 thought of her, and came down with all 

 this nonsense of britschkas, and whiskers, 

 and waistcoats, and rings, just to show h er 



