and, in particular, sent Mynne's over-tossed
balls flying over his head for six, or to square
leg for four, and, on his retiring with twenty-five,
scored in eight minutes, the remaining
Barkingtonians were less funky, and made some fair
scores."

Mrs. Dodd smiled a little ironically at this
tirade, but said she thought she might venture to
promise Mr. Dodd's co-operation, should he reach
home in time. Then, to get rid of Alfred before
Julia's return, the amiable worldling turned to
Edward. "Your sister will not be back; so you
may as well ring the bell for luncheon at once.
Perhaps Mr. Hardie will join us."

Alfred declined, and took his leave with far
less alacrity than he had entered with; Edward
went down stairs with him.

"Miss Dodd gone on a visit?" asked Alfred,
affecting carelessness.

"Only to the school. By-the-by, I will go and
fetch her."

"No, don't do that; call on my sister instead,
and then you will pull me out of a scrape. I
promised to bring her here: but her saintship
was so long adorning 'the poor perishable body,'
that I came alone."

"I don't understand you," said Edward. "I am
not the attraction here. It is Julia."

"How do you know that? When a young
lady interests herself in an undergraduate's soul,
it is a pretty sure sign she likes the looks of him.
But perhaps you don't want to be converted;
if so, keep clear of her. 'Bar the fell dragon's
blighting way; but shun that lovely snare.'"

"On the contrary," said Edward, calmly, "I
only wish she could make me as good as she is,
or half as good."

"Give her the chance, old fellow, and then it
won't be your fault if she makes a mess of it.
Call at two, and Jenny will receive you very
kindly, and will show you you are in the 'gall of
bitterness and the bond of iniquity.' Now, won't
that be nice?"

"I will go," said Edward, gravely.

They parted. Where Alfred went the reader
can perhaps guess; Edward to luncheon.

"Mamma," said he, with that tranquillity
which sat so well on him, "don't you think
Alfred Hardie is spoony upon our Julia?"

Mrs. Dodd suppressed a start, and (perhaps to
gain time before replying sincerely) said she had
not the honour of knowing what "spoony"
meant.

"Why, sighs for her, and dies for her, and
fancies she is prettier than Miss Hardie. He
must be over head and ears."

"Fie child!" was the answer. "If I thought
so, I should withdraw from their acquaintance.
Excuse me; I must put on my bonnet at once,
not to lose this fine afternoon."

Edward did not relish her remark: it menaced
more Spoons than one. However, he was not the
man to be cast down at a word: he lighted
a cigar, and strolled towards Hardie's house.
Mr. Hardie, senior, had left three days ago
on a visit to London; Miss Hardie received
him; he passed the afternoon in calm complacency,
listening reverently to her admonitions,
and looking her softly out of countenance, and
into earthly affections, with his lion eyes.

Meantime his remark, so far from really seeming
foolish to Mrs. Dodd, was the true reason for
her leaving him so abruptly. "Even this dear
slow Thing sees it," thought she. She must talk
to Julia more seriously, and would go to the
school at once. She went up-stairs, and put on
her bonnet and shawl before the glass, then
moulded on her gloves; and came down equipped.
On the stairs was a large window, looking upon
the open field; she naturally cast her eyes through
it, in the direction she was going, and what did
she see but a young lady and gentleman coming
slowly down the path towards the villa. Mrs.
Dodd bit her lip with vexation, and looked keenly
at them, to divine on what terms they were. And
the more she looked the more uneasy she grew.

The head, the hand, the whole person of a
young woman walking beside one she loves,
betrays her heart to experienced eyes watching
unseen: and most female eyes are experienced
at this sort of inspection. Why did Julia move
so slowly? especially after that warning. Why
was her head averted from that encroaching boy,
and herself so near him? The anxious mother
would much rather have seen her keep her
distance, and look him full in the face. Her first
impulse was that of leopardesses, lionesses, hens,
and all the mothers in nature; to dart from her
ambush and protect her young; but she
controlled it by a strong effort; it seemed wiser to
descry the truth, and then act with resolution:
besides, the young people were now almost at
the shrubbery; so the mischief, if any, was done.

They entered the shrubbery.

To Mrs. Dodd's surprise and dismay they did
not come out this side so quickly. She darted
her eye into the plantation; and lo! Alfred had
seized the fatal opportunity foliage offers, even
when thinnish: he held Julia's hand, and was
pleading eagerly for something she seemed not
disposed to grant; for she turned away and made
an effort to leave him. But Mrs. Dodd, standing
there quivering with maternal anxiety, and hot
with shame, could not but doubt the sincerity of
that graceful resistance. If she had been quite
in earnest, Julia had fire enough in her to box
the little wretch's ears. She ceased even to
doubt, when she saw that her daughter's
opposition ended in his getting hold of two hands
instead of one, and devouring them with kisses,
while Julia still drew her head and neck quite
away, but the rest of her supple frame seemed
to yield and incline, and draw softly towards her
besieger, by some irresistible spell.

"I can bear no more!" gasped Mrs. Dodd
aloud, and turned to hasten and part them; but
even as she curved her stately neck to go, she
caught the lovers parting; and a very pretty one
too, if she could have looked at it, as these things
ought always to be looked at: Artistically.