“What is the matter?” inquired David, rather bluntly.

“Mr. Bazalgette is so harsh to me—­ah!—­to me, who longs so for kindness and gentleness that I feel I could give my very soul in exchange for them.”

The bait did not take.

“It is only his manner,” said David, good-naturedly.  “His heart is all right; I never met a better.  What sort of a knot is that you are tying?  Why, that is a granny’s knot;” and he looked morose, at which she looked amazed; so he softened, and explained to her with benevolence the rationale of a knot.  “A knot is a fastening intended to be undone again by fingers, and not to come undone without them.  Accordingly, a knot is no knot at all if it jams or if it slips.  A granny’s knot does both; when you want to untie it you must pick at it like taking a nail out of a board, and, for all that, sooner or later it always comes undone of itself; now you look here;” and he took a piece of string out of his pocket, and tied her a sailor’s knot, bidding her observe that she could untie it at once, but it could never come untied of itself.  He showed her with this piece of string half a dozen such knots, none of which could either jam or slip.

“Tie me a lover’s knot,” suggested the lady, in a whisper.

“Ay! ay!” and he tied her a lover’s knot as imperturbably as he had the reef knot, bowling-knot, fisherman’s bend, etc.

“This is very interesting,” said Mrs. Bazalgette, ironically.  She thought David might employ a tete-a-tete with a flirt better than this.  “What a time Lucy is gone!”

“All the better.”

“Why?” and she looked down in mock confusion.

“Because poor Mrs. Wilson will be glad.”

Mrs. Bazalgette was piqued at this unexpected answer.  “You seem quite captivated with this Mrs. Wilson; it was for her sake you took Lucy to task.  Apropos, you need not have scolded her, for she did not know the woman was in the house.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean Lucy was not in the room when Mrs. Wilson was announced.  I was, but I did not tell her; the all-important circumstance had escaped my memory.  Where are you running to now?”

“Where? why, to ask her pardon, to be sure.”

Mrs. B. [Brute!]

David ran down the stairs to look for Lucy, but he found somebody else instead—­his sister Eve, whom the servant had that moment admitted into the hall.  It was “Oh, Eve!” and “Oh, David!” directly, and an affectionate embrace.

“You got my letter, David?”

“No.”

“Well, then you will before long.  I wrote to tell you to look out for me; I had better have brought the letter in my pocket.  I didn’t know I was coming till just an hour before I started.  Mother insisted on my going to see the last of you.  Cousin Mary had invited me to ——­, so I shall see you off, Davy dear, after all.  I thought I’d just pop in and let you know I was in the neighborhood.  Mary and her husband are outside the gate in their four-wheel.  I would not let them drive in, because I want to hear your story, and they would have bothered us.”