uncertainty as to Miss Rose's punctuality, At length they came to a
village; straggling cottages lined the road, an old church stood on a
kind of green, with the public-house close by it; there was a great
tree, with a bench all round the trunk, midway between the church gates
and the little inn. The wooden stocks were close to the gates. Molly
had long passed the limit of her rides, but she knew this must be the
village of Hamley, and they must be very near to the hall.

They swung in at the gates of the park in a few minutes, and drove up
through meadow-grass, ripening for hay,--it was no grand aristocratic
deer-park this--to the old red-brick hall; not three hundred yards from
the high-road. There had been no footman sent with the carriage, but a
respectable servant stood at the door, even before they drew up, ready
to receive the expected visitor, and take her into the drawing-room
where his mistress lay awaiting her.

Mrs. Hamley rose from her sofa to give Molly a gentle welcome; she kept
the girl's hand in hers after she had finished speaking, looking into
her face, as if studying it, and unconscious of the faint blush she
called up on the otherwise colourless cheeks.

'I think we shall be great friends,' said she, at length. 'I like your
face, and I am always guided by first impressions. Give me a kiss, my
dear.'

It was far easier to be active than passive during this process of
'swearing eternal friendship,' and Molly willingly kissed the sweet
pale face held up to her.

'I meant to have gone and fetched you myself; but the heat oppresses