Rosa was near enough to them to overhear what had passed. Her brother had intended she should do so. But when he set his wit against that of a woman he reckoned without his host. Rosa had been on the look-out for Frederick Darley from the beginning of the evening, and during the first greeting, had managed to slip a little note into his hand, warning him of her brother’s animosity, and begging him to keep as much as possible out of their sight until an opportunity occurred for her joining him in the apple copse. Now, she felt afraid of what might happen if there were an encounter between the two young men, and decided at once that her best plan would be, as soon as she saw George safely disposed of at the supper-table, to tamper with his spy. And unfortunately Rosa Murray knew but too well how to accomplish this. Young Barnes’ infatuation had not been unnoticed by her. She would have been aware of it if a cat had admired her. She knew his hand trembled when he took her foot to place her in the saddle, and that he became so nervous and agitated when she entered the stable as often to have to be recalled to a sense of his duty by a sharp rebuke from the head groom. She had known it all for months past, and it had pleased her. She was so vain and heartless that she thought nothing of what pain the poor fellow might be undergoing. She laughed at his presumption, and only considered it another feather in her cap. But now she saw her way to make use of it. The dancing had recommenced, and was proceeding with vigour, and the huge rounds of beef and legs of mutton on the supper-table were beginning to be served out. George was in full action, leading the onslaught with his carving-knife, when Rosa Murray approached Laurence Barnes. ‘Won’t you dance again, nor go and have your supper, Larry dear?’ Lizzie was asking, with a soft caress of her hand upon the head laid on her knee. ‘I don’t want to dance no more,’ said Larry, ‘and I sha’n’t sup till the table’s clearer and you can sup with me, Liz.’ ‘That’s very good of you, Barnes,’ said Rosa, who had caught the words; ‘but if you’ll take Lizzie to the table now, I’m sure George will find room for you both.’ ‘No thank you, miss,’ he answered; ‘I promised Master George to bide here till he came back, and I mustn’t break my word.’ ‘Then I shall sit here with you, and we’ll all have supper together by-and-by,’ replied Rosa. ‘Have you been gathering cockles again this afternoon, Lizzie?’ ‘Oh no, miss!’ said Lizzie, blushing at the recollection of how her afternoon had been employed; ‘it’s high tide at four o’clock now, and I haven’t been out of the house again to-day.’ ‘Did your cousin tell you how she scolded me for riding in the salt marshes, Barnes?’ ‘Well! it _is_ dangerous, miss, for such as don’t know the place. I mind me when Whisker’s grandfather strayed out there by himself—’ ‘Oh, Larry!’ cried Lizzie, ‘don’t go to tell that terrible tale. It always turns me sick!’