Miss Rosa’s ‘breath of fresh air’ meant, of course, her appointment with Frederick Darley in the apple copse. She had got Larry nicely out of the way (notwithstanding the fears of his betrothed), and there was no obstacle in her path as she left the barn and approached the place of meeting. She had taken the precaution to wrap a large dark shawl round her white dress, and, thus concealed, crept softly down the lane and through the lower meadow unobservant or unheeding that her father’s terrier, Trim, had followed her footsteps. Mr Darley was in waiting for her, and a lover-like colloquy ensued. He did not again mention the subject of marriage, at which Rosa was somewhat disappointed; for she believed that, notwithstanding her brother’s assertions to the contrary, Mr Murray might not refuse his consent to her becoming Frederick Darley’s wife; and he certainly was the handsomest man round about, Lord Worcester himself not excepted. But in the midst of their tender conversation, as Darley was telling Rosa he loved her better than ever man had loved woman in this world before, Trim commenced wagging his tail and snuffing the grass. ‘What is the matter?’ cried Rosa in alarm. ‘Down, Trim, down—be quiet, sir! Oh, Frederick! surely no one can be coming this way.’ ‘Don’t be afraid,’ said her companion; ‘throw your shawl over your head and trust to me. I will answer for it that no one shall molest you whilst under my protection.’ But he had not calculated upon having to make his words good in the presence of her father and brother. Trim would _not_ lie down, nor be quiet, but kept on with his little signals of warning, until two dark figures could be discerned making their way towards them over the grass, when he bounded away to meet them. Rosa guessed who the newcomers must be, and her heart died within her for fear. She would have screamed, but Darley placed his hand before her mouth. There was no escape for the lovers, even if an attempt to escape would not have increased suspicion, for the apple copse was a three-cornered field that had but the one entrance through which they had come. In another moment the four had met, and Rosa recognised her father and her brother George. How they had guessed they would find her there she did not stay to ask or even think. All her thought was how to shield herself from the farmer’s anger. The fact was that George had wished to seat his sister at the supper-table, when, finding that she and Darley and Larry had all three mysteriously disappeared, he had communicated his suspicions and the events of the morning to his father, and they had sallied forth together in search of the missing daughter, and were on their way to the farm, where they had been told she had gone, when Trim’s unwarrantable interference led them to the very spot. Mr Murray’s rage was unbounded. He did not wait for any explanations, but walked up straight to Rosa and demanded,— ‘Is this my daughter?’