six and twenty, - but so reserved! They tried all they could to
find out who she was and where she came from, and, all about her,
but neither Mrs. Wilson, with her pertinacious and impertinent
home-thrusts, nor Miss Wilson, with her skilful manoeuvring, could
manage to elicit a single satisfactory answer, or even a casual
remark, or chance expression calculated to allay their curiosity,
or throw the faintest ray of light upon her history, circumstances,
or connections. Moreover, she was barely civil to them, and
evidently better pleased to say 'good-by,' than 'how do you do.'
But Eliza Millward says her father intends to call upon her soon,
to offer some pastoral advice, which he fears she needs, as, though
she is known to have entered the neighbourhood early last week, she
did not make her appearance at church on Sunday; and she - Eliza,
that is - will beg to accompany him, and is sure she can succeed in
wheedling something out of her - you know, Gilbert, she can do
anything. And we should call some time, mamma; it's only proper,
you know.'

'Of course, my dear. Poor thing! How lonely she must feel!'

'And pray, be quick about it; and mind you bring me word how much
sugar she puts in her tea, and what sort of caps and aprons she
wears, and all about it; for I don't know how I can live till I
know,' said Fergus, very gravely.

But if he intended the speech to be hailed as a master-stroke of
wit, he signally failed, for nobody laughed. However, he was not
much disconcerted at that; for when he had taken a mouthful of
bread and butter and was about to swallow a gulp of tea, the humour
of the thing burst upon him with such irresistible force, that he