"You are old friends, I am told," said
Conway, "so you can appreciate her
better."

"There were thirty girls at the school,"
the heiress said, impatiently, "when I was
there. They are not all old friends, I
presume. I have never seen them since.
Yet the people here always insist on making
us bosom friends, that cannot be parted a
moment. I am really getting tired of it."

Conway laughed. "May I speak the
truth? Well, I heard something quite the
reverse, almost as I sailed into harbour,
that there were two young ladies here,
each at the head of a party, captains of
opposing armies, whose little contests gave
the only animation to the place."

"The poor low gossips here talk of
anything, and invent anything: we all despise
them, and papa would not stay here but
for my health. As for Jessica, or Miss
Bailey, I know little or nothing about her.
She is truly of the same class."

"Clergymen and their families are
usually allowed a sort of brevet rank,"
said Conway, smiling. "Or if there is any
defect in the father, there is great
indulgence to the daughter."

The spoiled rich girl looked at him
uneasily. "Oh, she has quite brought you
round to her party. That is always her
way, artfully trying to make friends with
every one. I never was taught those little
devices. Or I suppose, the art is born
with you."

This seemed like a complaint, and the
tone of her voice troubled Conway.
"Perhaps," he said, "the game is not worth
the candle, and perhaps Miss Panton has
the art all this time, though not conscious
of it. She has been kind enough to give
me a chance already, and I came out to say
how happy I should be to avail myself
of it."

The emotions of the heiress were as
fitful as they were vehement. She smiled,
laughed, at this compliment, an insipid
and third-hand one out of Conway's stock,
and said abruptly: "I am so glad. Yes,
we shall be great friends, I am not strong-
minded in the least" (there was no need,
Conway thought, for her to make that
declaration) "but I should be sorry to do
so. Dudley says there is something
repulsive in being strong-minded and able to
talk."

As Conway looked out at the hothouses
and choice beds of flowers, he wondered at
seeing groups of rustics scattered about,
who appeared to be looking at the flowers
with much the same title that he had. At
last he said:

"Oh, see! these are the people Miss
Bailey spoke of."

"She spoke of! And what did she
speak?"

"Well, I forget exactly, except that they
had some right to smell the flowers God
gave us, and enjoy your grounds. Sir
Charles is wonderfully indulgent."

"It is all on sufferance, I can assure you.
But papa is laughed at for admitting
them."

"Miss Jessica would not laugh at him, I
assure you. She shows a most just concession
to popular rights, and thinks it no
compliment: it should be universal over
the country."

"Does she—does she? So do all who
are without land. We are absurdly indulgent.
The place swarms on show days
with this canaille. It is intolerable." And
she stamped her foot impatiently.

"Still you have a great advantage here,"
said Conway, "in this barrier of a river—
and such a noble river! Nature, true
aristocrat, meant it no doubt to keep off
the canaille."

Lunch was then announced, and the
guest presently departed much interested
in this strange, wayward girl.

Now Ready, price 5s. 6d., bound in green cloth,
THE SECOND VOLUME
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ALL THE YEAR ROUND.
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MR. CHARLES DICKENS'S FINAL READINGS.
MESSRS. CHAPPELL AND CO. have great pleasure
in announcing that MR. CHARLES DICKENS has resumed
his interrupted series of FAREWELL READINGS
at St. James's Hall, London. The last reading will be
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On Friday, January 21, MR. DICKENS will read
"Boots at the Holly Tree Inn," and "Sikes and
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