"Wait till you are asked, Miss Jacky," retorted Allan good-humoredly. "No, I don't want your ladyship's company this afternoon; I must have Esther to myself." And though Jack grumbled and looked discontented, he would not change his decision. I had made up my mind to see Ruth, and tell her all about it; but it never entered my head to dispute Allan's will if he wanted me to walk with him. I must give up Ruth, that was all; and I hurried to put on my things, that I might not keep him waiting, as he possessed his full share of masculine impatience. I thought that he had some plan to propose to me, but to my surprise he only talked about the most trivial subjects--the weather, the state of the roads, the prospects of skating. "Where are we going?" I asked at last, for we were passing the Cedars, and Allan rarely walked in that direction; but perhaps he had a patient to see. "Only to Eltham Green," he returned briefly. The answer was puzzling. Eltham Green was half a mile from the Cedars, and there was only one house there, beside a few scattered cottages; and I knew Uncle Geoffrey's patient, Mr. Anthony Lambert, who lived there, had died about a month ago. As Allan did not seem disposed to be communicative, I let the matter rest, and held my peace; and a few minutes quick walking brought us to the place. It was a little common, very wild and tangled with gorse, and in summer very picturesque. Some elms bordered the road, and there was a large clear-looking pond, and flocks of geese would waddle over the common, hissing and thrusting out their yellow bills to every passer-by. The cottages were pretty and rustic-looking, and had gay little gardens in front. They belonged to Mr. Lucas; and Eltham Cottage, as Mr. Lambert's house was called, was his property also. Flurry and I had always been very fond of the common, where Flossy had often run barking round the pond, after a family of yellow ducklings. "Eltham Cottage is still to let," I observed, looking up at the board; "it is such a pretty house." Allan made no response to that, but bade me enter, as he wanted to look at it. It was a long, two-storied cottage, with a veranda all round it, and in summer a profusion of flowers--roses and clematis, and a splendid passionflower--twined round the pillars and covered the porch. The woman who admitted us ushered us into a charming little hall, with a painted window and a glass door opening on to the lawn. There was a small room on one side of it, and on the other the dining room and drawing-room. The last was a very long, pleasant room, with three windows, all opening French fashion on to the veranda, and another glass door leading into a pretty little conservatory. The garden was small, but very tastefully laid out; but there was a southern wall, where peaches and nectarines were grown, and beehives stood, and some pretty winding walks, which led to snug nooks, where ferns or violets were hidden.