self with so slight an excuse. But, perhaps, I might see her in the field or the garden, and then, there would be no great difficulty: it was the formal knocking at the door, with the prospect of being gravely ushered in, by Rachel, to the presence of a surprised, uncordial mistress, that so greatly disturbed me.
My wish, however, was not gratified. Mrs. Graham, herself, was not to be seen; but there was Arthur playing with his frolicsome little dog in the garden. I looked over the gate and called him to me. He wanted me to come in; but I told him I could not without his mother's leave.
"I'll go and ask her," said the child.
"No, no, Arthur, you mustn't do that,—but if she's not engaged, just ask her to come here a minute: tell her I want to speak to her."
He ran to perform my bidding, and quickly returned with his mother. How lovely she looked with her dark ringlets streaming in the light summer breeze, her fair cheek slightly
