They had never so much as heard his name before, for Richard had been cautious never to mention Balfour in his letters, since they were, of course, perused by the authorities, and friendships were not encouraged at Lingmoor; but, on the other hand, it was evident that these ladies had an interest for the visitor.  Presently, while they were yet all below stairs, arrived Charles and Agnes, which effected, indeed, diversion enough, but also a great disturbance and alteration for the worse in Mr. Coe’s temper.  No sooner, as it seemed to him, had his back been turned, then, than the intimacy between this girl and his son, which he had strictly forbidden, had been recommenced, and with the connivance and encouragement of his wife too, or else how should the lad dare thus to bring her home?  For the first time Solomon was openly rude to Agnes; and the latter, being a girl of spirit, resented it by quietly rising to depart.  Charley, rash and impetuous, rose to accompany her.  Solomon stormed displeasure; and it seemed that the presence of the visitor would have been wholly inadequate to prevent a family scene, when Agnes herself interposed with dignity.  “No, Charles; I would rather go alone.  If your father objects to my presence here, it shall not be intruded; and if he considers your company a condescension, I can not accept it upon such terms.”

Charles would have taken her arm, in defiance of all consequences, and led her off under Solomon’s nose; but this opposition on her part offended him.  He was almost as angry with her for thwarting him as he was with his father.  It was a triangular duel, the combatants in which were narrowly watched by the disregarded stranger.  When Agnes got her way and departed, “That’s a girl of character,” observed he, with a cynical smile.

“She is a girl without a penny,” answered Solomon, gloomily, with a scowl at his son, “upon whom this young fool wishes to throw himself away.”

“What! so early?” observed Mr. Balfour, good-humoredly addressing Charles.  “When I was your age, I thought of enjoying life, and not of marriage.  I don’t wonder, however, that any girl should strive to enslave so handsome a young fellow as your son, Sir.  It is quite natural, and there is no need to blame her, and far less him.”

Ashamed, perhaps, of having exhibited such violence of temper before his guest, Solomon was very willing to be mollified, and grimly smiled approval of these sentiments; Charles, too, though fully resolved to set himself right with Agnes on the morrow, was not displeased with the visitor’s remark; but the two women justly resented it as an impertinent freedom.  If Charles’s thoughts had not been so preoccupied with his own wrongs—­the deprivation of his Agnes’s society, which he had promised himself for the rest of the day, and the snub which he conceived she had administered to him—­he would have noticed too, for he was by no means wanting in observation,