little nose of no particular order, made up the catalogue of this young lady’s charms.  But in a face worth looking at there is always a something that cannot be put into words; and the brightest and best attributes of this face were quite beyond translation.  It was a face one might almost call “splendid”—­there was such a light and glory about it at some moments.  Gilbert Fenton thought so to-night, as he saw it in the full radiance of the western sunlight, the lips parted as the girl sang, the clear gray eyes looking upward.

She was not alone:  a portly genial-looking old man stood by her side, and accompanied her to the church-porch when the hymn was over.  Here they both lingered a moment to shake hands with Mrs. Lister, very much to Gilbert Fenton’s satisfaction.  They walked along the churchyard-path together, and Gilbert gave his sister’s arm a little tug, which meant, “Introduce me.”

“My brother Mr. Fenton, Captain Sedgewick, Miss Nowell.”

The Captain shook hands with Gilbert.  “Delighted to know you, Mr. Fenton; delighted to know any one belonging to Mrs. Lister.  You are going to stop down here for some time, I hope.”

“I fear not for very long, Captain Sedgewick.  I am a business man, you see, and can’t afford to take a long holiday from the City.”

Mrs. Lister laughed.  “My brother is utterly devoted to commercial pursuits,” she said; “I think he believes every hour wasted that he spends out of his counting-house.”

“And yet I was thinking in church this evening, that a man’s life might be happier in such a place as this, drifting away in a kind of dreamy idleness, than the greatest successes possible to commerce could ever make it.”

“You would very soon be tired of your dreamy idleness,” answered his sister, “and sigh for your office and your club.”

“The country suits old people, who have played their part in life, and made an end of it,” said the Captain.  “It suits my little girl here very well, too,” he added, with a fond glance at his companion; “she has her birds and her flowers, and her books and music; and I don’t think she ever sighs for anything gayer than Lidford.”

“Never, uncle George,” said the girl, slipping her hand through his arm.  And Gilbert Fenton saw that those two were very fond of each other.

They came to the end of a shady winding lane at this moment, and Captain Sedgewick and Miss Nowell wished Mrs. Lister and her brother good-evening, and went away down the lane arm-in-arm.

“What a lovely girl she is!” said Gilbert, when they were gone.

“Lovely is rather a strong word, Gilbert,” Mrs. Lister answered coldly; “she is certainly pretty, but I hope you are not going to lose your heart in that direction.”

“There is no fear of that.  A man may admire a girl’s face without being in any danger of losing his heart.  But why not in that direction, Belle?  Is there any special objection to the lady?”