the drive only lasted a quarter of an hour, during which time our
new acquaintance talked very pleasantly to both of us.

I could not forget that Mr. Darrell had called him a bad man; but in
spite of that sweeping condemnation I could not bring myself to
think of him without a certain interest.

Of course Milly and I discussed Mr. Egerton as we sat over our snug
little _tête-à-tête_ dinner, and we were both inclined to speak of his
blighted life in a pitying kind of way, and to blame his mother's
conduct, little as we knew of the details of the story. Our
existences were so quiet that this little incident made quite an
event, and we were apt to date things from that afternoon for some
time afterwards.


CHAPTER VII.


A LITTLE MATCH-MAKING.


We heard nothing of Mr. Egerton for about three weeks, at the end of
which time we were invited to dine at the Rectory. The first person
we saw on going into the long, low, old-fashioned drawing-room was
the master of Cumber Priory leaning against the mantelpiece in his
favourite attitude. The Rector was not in the room when we arrived,
and Angus Egerton was talking to Mrs. Collingwood, who sat in a low
chair near the fire.