"Only at a group in the road there. I cannot make out whether or not they are the people from the Grange. If so--they may be coming here. But they seem to be standing still. "Some labourers mending the road," quietly spoke Miss Upton. "No, Aunt Margery, I don't think so; I am almost sure I can distinguish bonnets. Something is glittering in the sun." "Do bonnets glitter, Frances?" Frances laughed. "Selina has some sparkling grass in hers. Did you not notice it yesterday in church?" "Not I," said Miss Upton; "but I can take your word for it. Selina Dalrymple is more fond of dress than a Frenchwoman. Want of sense and love of finery often go together," added Miss Upton, looking off her work to re-thread her needle: and Frances Chenevix nodded assent. She stood looking out at the landscape: at the signs of labour to be seen around. The harvest was gathered, but much outdoor work lay to hand. Waggoners paced slowly beside their teams, with a crack now and again of the whip, or a word of encouragement to the leading horse. At this moment the sound of a gun was heard in the direction of Moat Grange. Frances exclaimed-- "Aunt Margery, they are shooting!" "Well, my dear, is that anything unusual on the first of October?" spoke Miss Upton, smiling. "Robert Dalrymple would think it strange if he did not go out today to bag his pheasants--poor things! I dare say it was his gun you heard." "And there's another--and another!" cried the young lady. "They are shooting away! Adela must have run away with the glasses, Aunt Margery." Adela Chenevix had gone, listlessly enough, into the blue room: one of the magnificent drawing-rooms in front, its colours pale blue and silver. She opened the first table-drawer she came to; but did not see any glasses. Then she glanced about in other directions. "Janet," she called to a maid-servant passing the door, "do you know where the opera-glasses are?" "The opera-glasses," returned the girl, entering. "No, I don't, my lady." "Aunt Margery said they were in this room." "I know Miss Margery had them a few days ago. She was looking through them at the rick that was on fire over yonder. I'll look in the other rooms, my lady." Adela, sat down near the window, and fell into a train of thought. The maid came back, saying she could not find the glasses: and the young lady forgot all about them, and sat on. "Well," said Miss Margery, interrupting her presently, "and where are the glasses you were sent for, Adela? And what's the matter?" Adela started up; the blush-rose on her cheek deepening to a rich damask. "I--I am afraid I forgot all about them, Aunt Margery. I can't find them." Miss Upton walked to the further end of the large room, opened the drawer of a small table, and took out the glasses. "Oh," said Adela, repentantly; "it was in this table that I looked, Aunt Margery."