ing, so when her early dinner was over she took her work and book into the porch. A wicker chair with red cushions had been placed there for her use: nothing could be more comfortable. After tea she thought that she would write to Hillis and Ivy, and then go for a stroll.

Eden felt as though her lines had fallen in pleasant places as she sat in the shady porch looking out on the fir-woods; her book was interesting, and she only laid it down to watch a pair of fantail pigeons that were strutting up and down the path. The cooing of doves from the roof filled the air with drowsy melody, and mingled pleasantly with the humming of innumerable bees. The only sounds of home life were Susan's clogs, as she clattered across the courtyard on her way to the well or pigstye. Presently her white sun-bonnet peeped round the corner. "Here's a visitor to see you, Miss Lloyd," she said loudly; "it is the Vicar's lady from Hencotes; and the next moment Mrs. Ferard came towards her.

"You see, I have soon kept my promise," she said, smiling; "but I am going to have tea at

the Dene with my dear old friend Lady Margaret, so I thought I would look in on my way. Well, how do you like your hermitage, Miss Lloyd? Is not this old porch charming? Dear me, you look as comfortable and as cool as possible;' and then Eden fetched her a chair, and they sat down cosily together.

After all, it was Eden who talked most. Mrs. Ferard had come prepared to hear Miss Lloyd's impressions of her new surroundings; she questioned her eagerly about her interview with the Squire, and laughed heartily at her abrupt dismissal.

"It was just like him," she exclaimed ; " and, of course, he wore his blue spectacles. Don't I remember the day when Augustine first took me with him to Heatherwood. I behaved I behaved very well on the whole; but directly we left the house I burst into convulsions of laughter, and Augustine, who is very sedate and proper, scolded me well; and all the time that naughty child Bonnie was grinning at us from an upper window like a little gnome. Well, so you are to begin lessons tomorrow. I am glad to hear it; the sooner my Lady Frivol sets to work in real earnest, the

better for her." Then there was a little more talk, and presently Mrs. Ferard rose.

Lady Margaret is expecting me; I must not stay any longer. Isn't Joslyn a dear fellow? We are all so fond of him. But we will finish our chat another day. Will you come and have tea with me on Saturday? Saturday is Augustine's sermon day, and he is always shut up in his study, so we can just chatter as much as we like. Any one will tell you the way to Hencotes. The Retreat is very near our Tin tabernacle and then she ran off, and Eden, much cheered by this neighbourly visit, took up her book again.

The next morning Eden walked over to Heatherwood at the appointed time. Bonnie had already paid her a flying visit. She was sitting in the porch after her early breakfast, reading a letter from Hillis, when she heard the trampling of hoofs, and there was Bonnie, in her ridinghabit, and Jan following her, with his slender nose on her shoulder. Eden thought the girl had never appeared to greater advantage; the slim young figure looked supple and graceful, the severe lines of the habit suited her to perfection,

and, with her bright eyes, and the healthy colour on her cheeks, my Lady Frivol looked really pretty. An invisible net confined the ruddy locks, and the soft white throat was clearly visible.

"I told Uncle Alick that I meant to pay my respects to teacher," observed Bonnie cheerfully, "so he said he would ride on to the house alone. Look here, Eden, you need not bother to ring the bell; Randall is old, and not fond of unnecessary trouble. Just walk in and go straight to Aunt Janie's room; you will find lots to amuse you until I come. Now, Jan, leave off nibbling my ear;" and then Bonnie gave a little pirouette amongst the heather. "Will you, won't you-will you, won't you-will you, won't you, join the dance?" and lo! and behold, Jan suddenly curveted and began to back playfully. Finally, his hind legs were kicking in the air; but Bonnie only pranced and danced beside him. The last thing that Eden saw of them was that Jan was one side of a tree and Bonnie the other, and that they were skirmishing

merrily round it.

Then Jan evidently got loose,

for she could hear galloping hoofs in the wood.

Certainly Jan was

mistress.

as great a madcap as his

On the whole, Eden was fairly satisfied with the result of her first morning's work. Bonnie was by no means a docile pupil, but she was quick and intelligent, and though she wasted a good deal of time in unnecessary argument, she was evidently desirous of gaining knowledge. Eden was just the teacher for her: she was patient and sympathetic, and knew how to interest her. She had no dryas-dust theories, and was fully aware that Bonnie's lawless nature needed plenty of scope.

Aunt Anne had once told Hillis that Eden was born to be a teacher. She had studied hard, and passed several examinations, and during those quiet years at Lavender Cottage she had kept her hand in by giving French and music lessons to the vicar's motherless girls. Indeed, if report said true, a very little encouragement on Eden's part would have emboldened the good vicar to invite her to the vicarage as its mistress. It was the fear of this that made Eden hurry her preparations for leaving the cottage after her aunt's death.

The first week of Eden's stay at Huntsmoor