“What? This from _you_!” cried she. “They do say, you know, that you are always in love, and always with somebody who hasn’t any money at all.” “Well, I suppose they’re right. Men who have money _are_ always horrid, aren’t they? Still, if one of the horrid creatures were to ask me, I should have to have him, I suppose,” she went on with a sigh. “And as no girl can ever fall in love with a rich man, I may just as well be in love with a poor man first, and know something of the sentiment.” “Who is it now?” asked Chris, smiling, and rather interested. “Oh, it’s still the same one, the mysterious stranger I saw in the barn on the evening of the _tableaux vivants_.” “What!” said Chris, turning suddenly crimson, while the tears rushed into her eyes. “It is more than two months since then. This is constancy indeed.” “It’s so easy to be constant down here,” sighed Lilith. “And I admit that I might have wavered a little before now in my devotion if I hadn’t seen, or thought I had seen, my handsome stranger in town the other day, when I went up with mamma to do some shopping.” To her astonishment, Chris sprang up from her sofa in great excitement. “You saw him? You saw him?” cried she, all her old animation in her face, the old ring in her voice. Lilith looked at her in amazement. “Why, Chris, who was he? You pretended you didn’t know.” But the light had already died out of her companion’s eyes. Sighing heavily she answered: “Indeed it was true that I did not then know whom you meant. And if you did really see him yesterday, why, then he was not the person I have since supposed him to have been.” Lilith, who had heard rumours of the flirtation, or attachment between Chris and the alleged lunatic, was full of interest and curiosity. “Why, Chris,” said she, “was that the person they called Mr. Richard? If so, I don’t wonder you liked him better than cousin John.” But Chris would confess nothing, and rather irritated Lilith by her reticence. “What do people say about him? How do they account for his having disappeared?” “Well,” said Lilith, lowering her voice, “they say that he set the place on fire in order to escape, and that he’ll come back some day and murder cousin John!” “That’s all nonsense,” said Chris, sharply. “A lunatic might do that, but not Dick.” “Dick, oh!” said Lilith, raising her eyebrows. “You have confessed something at any rate, now, haven’t you?” But for answer Chris burst into tears, so that Mrs. Abercarne, returning, looked at Lilith with stern reproach. “I’m so sorry,” said Lilith, penitently; “but, Mrs. Abercarne, it’s really better for her to cry than to lie all day looking as if she wanted to! And oh! I’d nearly forgotten what I came for; mamma sent me to borrow a box of sardines.” Mrs. Abercarne suppressed a smile at this characteristic errand.