“I do not see so many people that I am likely to forget one of them,” she answered, with a curious little smile. “I dare say that the time seemed long to you, abroad in new countries; but to me, who have not stirred from Monk’s Lodge, it is like yesterday.” “Well, of course that does make a difference;” then, hastening to change the subject, he added, “I am afraid I was very rude; I thought that you were my sister. I can’t imagine how you can read in this light, and it always vexes me to see people trying their eyes. If you had ever kept a night watch at sea you would understand why.” “I am accustomed to reading in all sorts of lights,” Emma answered. “Do you read much, then?” “I have nothing else to do. You see I have no brothers or sisters, no one at all except my father, who keeps very much to himself; and we have few neighbours round Monk’s Lodge—at least, few that I care to be with,” she added, blushing again. Henry remembered hearing that the Levingers were considered to be outside the pale of what is called society, and did not pursue this branch of the subject. “What do you read?” he asked. “Oh, anything and everything. We have a good library, and sometimes I take up one class of reading, sometimes another; though perhaps I get through more history than anything else, especially in the winter, when it is too wretched to go out much. You see,” she added in explanation, “I like to know about human nature and other things, and books teach me in a second-hand kind of way,” and she stopped suddenly, for just then Ellen entered the room, looking very handsome in a low-cut black dress that showed off the whiteness of her neck and arms. [Illustration: ] ‘So we meet at last.’ “What, are you down already, Miss Levinger!” she said, “and with all your things to unpack too. You _do_ dress quickly,” and she looked critically at her visitor’s costume. “Let me see: do you and Henry know each other, or must I introduce you?” “No, we have met before,” said Emma. “Oh yes! I remember now. Surely you were here when my brother was on leave last time.” At this point Henry smiled grimly and turned away to hide his face. “There is not going to be any dinner-party, you know. Of course we couldn’t have one even if we wished at present, and there is no one to ask if we could. Everybody is in London at this time of the year. Mr. Milward is positively the only creature left in these parts, and I believe mother has asked him. Ah! here he is.” As she spoke the butler opened the door and announced —“Mr. Milward.”