dramatized in his mind, was not in the least as he had imagined it. When
one morning he went to the Peacock Inn at the summons of Mrs. Mavick, in
order to lay out a plan of campaign, he found Evelyn and her governess
seated on the veranda, with their books. It was Evelyn who rose first
and came forward, without, so far as Philip could see, the least
embarrassment of recognition.

"Mr. Burnett? Mamma will be here in a moment. This is our friend, Miss
McDonald."

The girl's morning costume was very simple, and in her short
walking-skirt she seemed younger even than in the city. She spoke and
moved--Philip noticed that--without the least self-consciousness, and
she had a way of looking her interlocutor frankly in the eyes, or, as
Philip expressed it, "flashing" upon him.

Philip bowed to the governess, and, still standing and waving his hand
towards the river, hoped they liked Rivervale, and then added:

"I see you can read in the country."

"We pretend to," said Evelyn, who had resumed her seat and indicated a
chair for Philip, "but the singing of that river, and the bobolinks in
the meadow, and the light on the hills are almost too much for us. Don't
you think, McDonald, it is like Scotland?"

"It would be," the governess replied, "if it rained when it didn't mist,
and there were moors and heather, and--"

"Oh, I didn't mean all that, but a feeling like that, sweet and retired