“You will frighten her with all that finery, my handsome mother,” remarked Danby as they walked to the carriage.

“I think she will survive it, but I shall not answer for the effect of those brilliant kids of yours.”

“The feminine eye is caught by display,” said her son sententiously.

They chatted as they drove rapidly through the forest to the old house, entered the front gate and rolled up the broad avenue.

“I had no idea the place looked so well,” remarked Danby, en connaisseur, as they approached.  “I always entered by the back way;” and he gave his moustache a final twirl.

After a loud knock from a vigorous hand the door was opened by a small servant, much resembling Nellie some four years before.  Danby was going to speak to her, but recalling the time that had elapsed, he knew it could not be she.  All within was altered.  Three rooms en suite, the last of which was the library, had been carefully refurnished.  He looked about him.  Could this be the place in which he had passed so many days?  But he forgot all in the figure that advanced to receive them.  With a pretty grace she gave her hand to his mother and welcomed “Mr. Overbeck.”  How she talked—­talked like a babbling brook!  It was now his turn to open big eyes and be silent.  He tried to recall the girl he had left.  Vain endeavor!  This bright creature, grave and gay, silent but ready, respectful yet confident, how could he follow her?  The visit came to an end, but was repeated again and again by Danby, and each time with new astonishment, new delight.  She had the coquetry of a dozen women, yet her eyes looked so true.  She was a perfect elf for pranks and jokes, yet demure as a nun.  When he tried to awe her with his learning, she was saucy; if he was serious, she was gay; if he wished to teach, she rebelled.  She was self-willed as a changeling, refractory yet gentle, seditious but just,—­only waiting to strike her colors and proclaim him conqueror; but this he did not know, for she kept well hid in her heart what “woman’s fear” she had.  She was all her favorite heroines in turn, with herself added to the galaxy.

One day he penetrated into the library, notwithstanding some very serious efforts on her part to prevent him:  by this time he would occasionally assert himself.  The furniture there was not much altered.  A few worn things had been replaced, but the room looked so much the same that the scene of that first reading-lesson came vividly to his mind.  He turned to the side where the desk had stood.  It was still there, with the two chairs before it, and on it was the book.  She would not for the world have had it moved, but it was, as it were, glorified.  Mr. Archer had wished “these old things cleared away,” but Nellie had besought him so earnestly that he allowed them to stay, stipulating, however, that they should be upholstered anew.  To this she assented, saying, “Send me the best of everything and I will cover them—­the very best, mind;” and her father, willing to please her, did as she desired.