Mr. Egerton came in a little later than the party from the Rectory, and after shaking hands with Mr. Darrell, made his way at once to the place where Milly and I were sitting.

‘Any more sketching since I was here last, Miss Darrell?’ he asked.

‘No.  I have been doing nothing for the last day or two.’

’Do you know I have been thinking of your work in that way a good deal since I called here.  I am stronger in criticism than in execution, you know.  I think I was giving you a little lecture on your shortcomings, wasn’t I?’

’Yes; but you left off so abruptly in the middle of it, that I don’t fancy it was very profitable to me,’ Milly answered in rather a piqued tone.

’Did I really?  O yes, I remember.  I was quite startled by Mrs. Darrell’s appearance.  She is so surprisingly like a lady I knew a long time ago.’

‘That is rather a curious coincidence,’ I said.

‘How a coincidence?’ asked Mr. Egerton.

’Mrs. Darrell said almost the same thing about your portrait when we were at Cumber one day.  It reminded her of some one she had known long ago.’

‘What an excellent memory you have for small events, Miss Crofton!’ said a voice close behind me.

It was Mrs. Darrell’s.  She had come across the room towards us, unobserved by me, at any rate.  Whether Angus Egerton had seen her or not, I do not know.  He rose to shake hands with her, and then went on talking about Milly’s sketching.

Mr. Collingwood took Mrs. Darrell in to dinner, and Mr. Egerton gave his arm to Milly, and was seated next her at the prettily decorated table, upon which there was always a wealth of roses at this time of year.  I saw Augusta Darrell’s eye wander restlessly in that direction many times during dinner, and I felt that the dear girl I loved so fondly was in an atmosphere of falsehood.  What was the nature of the past acquaintance between those two people? and why was it tacitly denied by both of them?  If it had been an ordinary friendship, there could have been no reason for this concealment and suppression.  I had never quite made up my mind to trust Angus Egerton, though I liked and admired him; and this mysterious relation between him and Augusta Darrell was a sufficient cause for serious distrust.

‘I wish she cared for him less,’ I said to myself, as I glanced at Milly’s bright happy face.

When we went back to the drawing-room after dinner, the Miss Collingwoods had a great deal to say to Milly about a grand croquet-match which was to take place in a week or two at Pensildon, Sir john and Lady Pensildon’s place, fourteen miles from Thornleigh.  The Rector’s daughters, both of whom were several years older than Milly, were passionately fond of croquet and everything in the way of gaiety, and were full of excitement about this coming event, discussing what they were going to wear, and what Milly was going to wear, on the occasion.  While they were engaged in this