Fan was up early next morning--the ringing concert of the orchard, so different from the dull rumble of the streets, had chased away sleep, and all desire to sleep--and punctually at eight o'clock she came down to breakfast. Mr. Churton alone was in the room, looking as usual intensely respectable in his open frock-coat, large collar, and well-brushed grey hair. He was standing before the open window looking out, humming or croaking a little tune, and jingling his chain and seals by way of accompaniment. “Ha, my dear, looking fresh as a flower--_and_ as pretty!” he said, turning round and taking her hand; then, after two or three irresolute glances at her face, he drew her towards him, and was about to imprint a kiss on her forehead (let us hope), when, for some unaccountable reason, she shrank back from him and defeated his purpose. “Why, why, my dear child, you surely can't object to being kissed! You must look on me as--ahem--it is quite the custom here--surely, my dear--” Just then Mrs. Churton entered the room, and her husband encountering her quick displeased look instantly dropped the girl's hand. “My dear,” he said, addressing his wife, “I have just been pointing out the view from the windows to Miss Affleck, and telling her what charming walks there are in the neighbourhood. I think that as we are so near the end of the week it would be just as well to postpone all serious studies until Monday morning and show our guest some of the beauties of Eyethorne.” “Perhaps it would, Nathaniel,” she returned, with a slight asperity. “But I should prefer it if you would leave all arrangements to me.” “Certainly, my dear; it was merely a suggestion made on the spur of the moment. I am sure Miss Affleck will be charmed with the--the scenery, whenever it can conveniently be shown to her.” His wife made no reply, but proceeded to open a Bible and read a few verses, after which she made a short prayer--a ceremony which greatly surprised Fan. The three then sat down to breakfast, Miss Churton not yet having appeared. It was a moderately small table, nearly square, and each person had an entire side to himself. They were thus placed not too far apart and not too near. Presently Miss Churton appeared, not from her room but from an early walk in the garden, and bringing with her a small branch of May jewelled with red blossoms. She stood for a few moments on the threshold looking at Fan, a very bright smile on her lips. How beautiful she looked to the girl, more beautiful now than on the previous day, as if her face had caught something of the dewy freshness of earth and of the tender morning sunlight. Then she came in, walking round the table to Fan's side, and bidding her parents “Good morning,” but omitting the usual custom of kissing father and mother. Stopping at the girl's side she stooped and touched her forehead with her lips, then placed the branch of May by the side of her plate.