"It is the prettiest, most coquettish little hand I ever saw. Do you
know, Alicia, I have no great belief in those fellows who ask you for
thirteen postage stamps, and offer to tell you what you have never been
able to find out yourself; but upon my word I think that if I had never
seen your aunt, I should know what she was like by this slip of paper.
Yes, here it all is--the feathery, gold-shot, flaxen curls, the penciled
eyebrows, the tiny, straight nose, the winning, childish smile; all to
be guessed in these few graceful up-strokes and down-strokes. George,
look here!"

But absent-minded and gloomy George Talboys had strolled away along the
margin of the ditch, and stood striking the bulrushes with his cane,
half a dozen paces away from Robert and Alicia.

"Nevermind," said the young lady, impatiently; for she by no means
relished this long disquisition upon my lady's note. "Give me the
letter, and let me go; it's past eight, and I must answer it by
to-night's post. Come, Atalanta! Good-by, Robert--good-by, Mr. Talboys.
A pleasant journey to town."

The chestnut mare cantered briskly through the lane, and Miss Audley was
out of sight before those two big, bright tears that stood in her eyes
for one moment, before her pride sent them, back again, rose from her
angry heart.

"To have only one cousin in the world," she cried, passionately, "my
nearest relation after papa, and for him to care about as much for me as
he would for a dog!"

By the merest of accidents, however, Robert and his friend did not go by