"If you are going to build a palace," she said, "don't talk of asking my help. I have never had anything to do with that kind of thing." "Oh, my dear Miss Fetherstonhaugh--really it will be nothing but an ordinary good-sized, comfortable house, and I am sure your taste would be perfect. At any rate, you will help me with the gardens? I mean to have good grounds, whatever else I go without; and ladies always know how to lay out beds and things better than we do." "_I_ shouldn't know," she said, smiling; "but I think my aunt is very clever at that. We have beautiful flowers--even so late as this." "So I see." He glanced admiringly at the rose on her breast, and she stuck her pretty chin into her throat and looked at it too. "What a lovely bud that is! Marshal Neil, is it not? Oh, don't take it out--the black fur on your jacket makes such a charming background for it." Rachel already had it in her hand, and was stroking the velvety yellow petals and the dark green leaves. "We have plenty of them," she said; "there is a wonderful autumn bloom of roses just now. This is a picture, isn't it? with that deep colour like an apricot in the heart, and those scarlet stains streaking it outside. Would you like to have it?" And she held it out with a frank gesture and the most captivating smile; and then, as he took it with a low bow and much ostentatious gratitude, she blushed the deepest crimson to the roots of her golden hair. At this moment Mrs. Hardy emerged from the shop, her ounce-weight of purchases being carried behind her; and Mr. Kingston turned to receive an effusive greeting. "Oh, my dear Mr. Kingston, is it you?" the stately matron exclaimed. "How _glad_ I am to see you--I have not met you for an age! Where _have_ you been? And when _are_ you coming to call on me again?" "I will come whenever you will allow me," this illustrious person replied, with an alacrity of demeanour that did not escape notice. "I thought of coming this afternoon, and on my way I saw your carriage, and your niece told me that you were shopping." "No; I did not tell you that," interposed Rachel gravely. He looked at her and laughed, and his laugh for some unaccountable reason called her retreating blushes back. Mrs. Hardy glanced sharply from one to the other, and then she also laughed, in decorous matronly fashion. "Well, come and dine with us to-night," the elder lady said, "and take us to the opera. That would be a friendly thing to do, if you are disposed to be friendly. Beatrice and Mr. Reade are coming--nobody else; and you can take Mr. Hardy's ticket. He is always glad to get off going." "I will indeed--I will with pleasure," was the prompt response; and with some further exchange of civilities, the friends separated. Mr. Kingston walked away to his club, with his flower in his button-hole, swinging his umbrella gently, and wondering to what class of woman this pretty Miss Fetherstonhaugh belonged.