"My dear," said Mrs. Burnham, "he has called upon her twice since Lady Theobald's tea. They say she invites him herself, and flirts with him openly in the garden." "Her conduct is such," said Miss Pilcher, with a shudder, "that the blinds upon the side of the seminary which faces Miss Bassett's garden are kept closed by my orders. I have young ladies under my care whose characters are in process of formation, and whose parents repose confidence in me." "Nothing but my friendship for Belinda Bassett," remarked Mrs. Burnham, "would induce me to invite the girl to my house." Then she turned to Mrs. Egerton. "But--ahem--have you included them _all_ in your invitations?" she observed. Mrs. Egerton became plaintive again. "I don't see how I could be expected to do any thing else," she said. "Lady Theobald herself could not invite Mr. Francis Barold from Mr. Burmistone's house, and leave Mr. Burmistone at home. And, after all, I must say it is my opinion nobody would have objected to Mr. Burmistone, in the first place, if Lady Theobald had not insisted upon it." Mrs. Burnham reflected. "Perhaps that is true," she admitted cautiously at length. "And it must be confessed that a man in his position is not entirely without his advantages--particularly in a place where there are but few gentlemen, and those scarcely desirable as"-- She paused there discreetly, but Mrs. Egerton was not so discreet. "There are a great many young ladies in Slowbridge," she said, shaking her head,--"a great many! And with five in a family, all old enough to be out of school, I am sure it is flying in the face of Providence to neglect one's opportunities." When the two ladies took their departure, Mrs. Burnham seemed reflective. Finally she said,--"Poor Mrs. Egerton's mind is not what it was, and it never was remarkably strong. It must be admitted, too, that there is a lack of--of delicacy. Those great plain girls of hers must be a trial to her." As she spoke they were passing the privet hedge which surrounded Miss Bassett's house and garden; and a sound caused both to glance around. The front door had just been opened; and a gentleman was descending the steps,--a young gentleman in neat clerical garb, his guileless ecclesiastical countenance suffused with mantling blushes of confusion and delight. He stopped on the gravel path to receive the last words of Miss Octavia Bassett, who stood on the threshold, smiling down upon him in the prettiest way in the world. "Tuesday afternoon," she said. "Now don't forget; because I shall ask Mr. Barold and Miss Gaston, on purpose to play against us. Even St. James can't object to croquet." "I--indeed, I shall be _most_ happy and--and delighted," stammered her departing guest, "if you will be so kind as to--to instruct me, and forgive my awkwardness." "Oh! I'll instruct you," said Octavia. "I have instructed people before, and I know how." Mrs. Burnham clutched Miss Pilcher's arm.