it open.  He had not a political view in the world that was calculated to affect his attitude toward a practical matter; and his opinion of Lorne was quite uncomplicated:  he thought him a very likely young fellow.  Milburn himself, in the Elgin way, preferred to see no great significance of this sort anywhere.  Young people were young people; it was natural enough that they should like each other’s society.  They, the Milburns, were very glad to see Mr Murchison, very glad indeed.  It was frequent matter for veiled humorous reference at the table that he had been to call again, at which Dora would look very stiff and dignified, and have to be coaxed back into the conversation.  As to anything serious, there was no hurry; plenty of time to think of that.  Such matters dwelt under the horizon; there was no need to scan them closely; and Mr Milburn went his way, conscious of nothing more than a comfortable gratification that Dora, so far as the young men were concerned, seemed as popular as other girls.

Dora was not in the drawing-room.  Young ladies in Elgin had always to be summoned from somewhere.  For all the Filkin instinct for the conservation of polite tradition, Dora was probably reading the Toronto society weekly—­ illustrated, with correspondents all over the Province—­ on the back verandah and, but for the irruption of a visitor, would probably not have entered the formal apartment of the house at all that evening.  Drawing-rooms in Elgin had their prescribed uses—­to receive in, to practise in, and for the last sad entertainment of the dead, when the furniture was disarranged to accommodate the trestles; but the common business of life went on outside them, even among prosperous people, the survival, perhaps, of a habit based upon thrift.  The shutters were opened when Lorne entered, to let in the spring twilight, and the servant pulled a chair into its proper relation with the room as she went out.

Mrs Milburn and Miss Filkin both came in before Dora did.  Lorne found their conversation enchanting, though it was mostly about the difficulty of keeping the lawn tidy; they had had so much rain.  Mrs Milburn assured him kindly that there was not such another lawn as his father’s in Elgin.  How Mr Murchison managed to have it looking so nice always she could not think.  Only yesterday she and Mr Milburn had stopped to admire it as they passed.

“Spring is always a beautiful time in Elgin,” she remarked.  “There are so many pretty houses here, each standing in its own grounds.  Nothing very grand, as I tell my friend, Miss Cham, from Buffalo where the residences are, of course, on quite a different scale; but grandeur isn’t everything, is it?”

“No, indeed,” said Lorne.

“But you will be leaving for Great Britain very soon now, Mr Murchison,” said Miss Filkin.  “Leaving Elgin and all its beauties!  And I dare say you won’t think of them once again till you get back!”

“I hope I shall not be so busy as that, Miss Filkin.”