ricks, and on the spot where its shadow was darkest Mary directed the dishes to be placed.

When everything was in readiness the gable bell summoned the guests, and Mary and Polly awaited them at the foot of the oak.

Lockart's chair was pushed along the smooth walk leading round the lawn to the paddock by the Squire and Mr. Drycale, and he-part of the fence having been removed-walked the rest of the way with a steadiness that surprised his friends no less than it delighted them. Arrived among the hillocks, he remained standing while the party was assembling, and Mr. Grange in vain directed his attention to one of the most commodious.

Miss Lushet, as imposing as ever, sailed across the lawn by the side of Edith Lockart, whom she appeared to be treating with marked consideration. Marian, accompanied by Mrs. Beagle, followed, while Wilmotte and his friend Calvert were not long of making their appearance.

Mary looked on critically. She had arranged the hay in six separate heaps, with the view of grouping the party in pairs, consequently, until the pairing was completed, it seemed difficult for any one to sit down. As if not personally concerned, she stood with her hands behind her, waiting. The arrival of Mr. Eagle presently made up the necessary dozen, yet still there appeared to be some obstacle in the way of a comfortable settling. Miss Lushet being in conversation with Edith, Archer felt a difficulty in claiming the latter. Lockart and Wilmotte happened to be together. Both had it in view to secure Miss Grange, but each suspecting the other's design, was too polite to make the neces

sary advance. Eagle looked as undecided as the rest. Polly had grown suddenly bashful and did not throw herself in his way, but he saw the anxiety to be with him which her timid glance confessed, and he probably wavered between good-natured willingness to oblige her and an equally amiable unwillingness to mislead her by too frequent attentions. Mrs. Beagle, quite sure of Mr. Drycale should Mr. Eagle overlook her, had turned her back on the former with so much coolness that the little man hesitated to invite her to sit by him, and was on the point of begging Miss Lushet, whom he greatly admired, to do him that honour, when at last the Squire, who had been making some changes among the dishes, rose, exclaiming

"Hallo, my friends, are you all standing! Would any of you prefer chairs or cushions ?"

"By no means," every one protested, and immediately there was a general movement to prove their appreciation of the hay-ricks as seats. Mr. Eagle offered his arm to Polly, whereupon Mrs. Beagle turned with a friendly smile to Mr. Drycale, and was handed by him to a heap. The Squire gallantly led Miss Lushet to another, which that lady took with a lingering glance at Calvert, while the latter, with a smile of relief, presented his hand to Miss Lockart and assisted to make her comfortable on a mound apart.

"You will prefer a high heap; here is one," said Marian to Sir Angus.

Lockart, immediately remembering that with both hands engaged by his sticks, he could not assist in helping the ladies to lunch, prudently took his place on the heap indicated, feeling at once mortified and pleased by Miss Grange's attention.

Wilmotte bit his lip, in spite of his previous resolution to give up Marian with a good grace, and turned away, feeling himself de trop; but at that moment a soft hand touched his sleeve, and Mary Melville, with real pity and affected mortification, said,

"Ah, dear Mary!" exclaimed the Doctor, relieved and thankful.

"Come and we'll have a cosy chat all by our little. selves," said she, as if meaning, "You've me at least to stand by you and comfort you!"

He led her to the remaining rick, and then joined the gentlemen and Marian, who were busy filling plates for their partners.

Pray allow me to do that for you, Miss Grange,” he said, forgetting Mary, when he saw Marian taking a gentleman's office on account of Lockart's lameness.

"You are very kind," she replied, "but I prefer to help Sir Angus myself."

I shall at least supply you, Miss Marian," said the Doctor, following her with a plate of cold chicken.

Lockart received his portion with his customary grace, but not without a tinge of crimson in his usually pallid cheeks; and seeing Wilmotte's object, he begged Miss Grange to be seated. She at once reclined, rather on the opposite side of the mound, and accepted what the Doctor had brought with quietly spoken thanks.

Wilmotte, to whom her least word was music, bowed, with a stifling sensation in his breast, and then returning to the dishes, became aware that Mary's bright glance was following his motions.

"My poor Ellis !" remarked that unconstrained little damsel, as the Doctor at last approached with a slice of

fowl for her, and a couple of biscuits for himself, "I fear you've let the tide go by that would have led you on to fortune! I am sorry that I did not long ago give Marian a hint of what you were looking forward to. Had I helped her, poor blind little dreamer, to guess it, she might have been ready to jump at you ere this. At least, if not to jump at you, as I would at a man I liked, to take you gladly when you offered yourself;-there's a difference, perhaps. I hope you'll pardon my neglect. Was it, after all, any business of mine to meddle in the affair? I will be a Job's comforter enough to say, Doctor, that it's through your own fault and dourness' that you are brought to this sad pass."

Mary's speech gave Wilmotte time to recover his equanimity, and, firmly recalling his determination to meet his, as it now seemed to him, inevitable disappointment with calmness, he smiled upon his pretty reprover as he took his seat beside her on the hay,

Ha, so you can smile still!" she continued.

"How

often has she seen you smile? What have you ever done to win her; to make her think of you as anything but a grave old doctor and friend of her father's, eh? You may well blush-a youthful trick you've not outgrown, though your hair 's getting grey, Sir Lover."

He blushed when reminded of his stupid procrastination, but when Mary thus recklessly touched on his greyness, a sadness fell upon his lips, and he glanced round at the jetty hair of Angus Lockart, who was perhaps a year his senior.

"Don't be vexed," added Mary, pressing his hand. "I only meant that the streaks of white would help to make Mar think of you as rather her father's friend than her own, when your manner to her had nothing in

it to suggest the contrary. Grey hair doesn't make you older than you are really, and it would have made no difference in your fortune, had you shown proper pluck, and made love to the bonny lass!"

Mary's glib tongue was sweetly tuned, and though Ellis felt himself rather absurdly situated when thus sagely admonished by a little girl, he could not be annoyed. Again he smiled kindly on her-with so much kind feeling, indeed, that there was moisture in his eye.

"Dear old glummy!" she exclaimed, by way of answer to his smile, "what a nice look you have when you look that way!"

A green and white small-checked dress she wore showed its colours agreeably beside the fresh young grass on to which it flowed, for its green was from a vegetable dye. Prettily her hair contrasted with it, and bright beside it looked the exquisitely delicate sheen of her neck and face, of which the softly blended pink and white was matched, but not outshone by the beautiful large rose which she had gathered in the widow's garden, and now wore stuck in the front of her dress, just under her chin. She had thrown aside her hat, and ringlets danced about the back of her neck whenever she made her emphatic or jocular speeches with her usual confirmatory nods or shakes. Gleams of sunshine stealing through the oak foliage touched her head here and there, making it like some golden image burnished on its mouldings. A sun-ray also pierced one of her eyes for a moment, and made it look like a ball of pale green glass. Then her head turned, and, in the shade, both eyes appeared of a soft olive, a grassy, a yellow, or even a greyish hue as they softened, sparkled, flashed,