In this half-jesting, half-earnest manner she was accustomed to maintain a sort of friendly authority over Mr. Vanstone’s daughters, after her proper functions as governess had necessarily come to an end.  Norah, it is needless to say, had long since ceased to be her pupil; and Magdalen had, by this time, completed her education.  But Miss Garth had lived too long and too intimately under Mr. Vanstone’s roof to be parted with for any purely formal considerations; and the first hint at going away which she had thought it her duty to drop was dismissed with such affectionate warmth of protest that she never repeated it again, except in jest.  The entire management of the household was, from that time forth, left in her hands; and to those duties she was free to add what companionable assistance she could render to Norah’s reading, and what friendly superintendence she could still exercise over Magdalen’s music.  Such were the terms on which Miss Garth was now a resident in Mr. Vanstone’s family.

Toward the afternoon the weather improved.  At half-past one the sun was shining brightly; and the ladies left the house, accompanied by the dogs, to set forth on their walk.

They crossed the stream, and ascended by the little rocky pass to the hills beyond; then diverged to the left, and returned by a cross-road which led through the village of Combe-Raven.

As they came in sight of the first cottages, they passed a man, hanging about the road, who looked attentively, first at Magdalen, then at Norah.  They merely observed that he was short, that he was dressed in black, and that he was a total stranger to them—­and continued their homeward walk, without thinking more about the loitering foot-passenger whom they had met on their way back.

After they had left the village, and had entered the road which led straight to the house, Magdalen surprised Miss Garth by announcing that the stranger in black had turned, after they had passed him, and was now following them.  “He keeps on Norah’s side of the road,” she said, mischievously.  “I’m not the attraction—­don’t blame me.”

Whether the man was really following them, or not, made little difference, for they were now close to the house.  As they passed through the lodge-gates, Miss Garth looked round, and saw that the stranger was quickening his pace, apparently with the purpose of entering into conversation.  Seeing this, she at once directed the young ladies to go on to the house with the dogs, while she herself waited for events at the gate.

There was just time to complete this discreet arrangement, before the stranger reached the lodge.  He took off his hat to Miss Garth politely, as she turned round.  What did he look like, on the face of him?  He looked like a clergyman in difficulties.