“I don’t see the farce,” said John, “and neither, I suppose, does Mr Crediton; he is not given to joking. Now tell me, Huntley, before we go any further, is it the dear old people at home who have asked you to come and look after me? was it--my mother? She might have known I would tell her at first hand anything there was to tell.” At this speech Fred Huntley became very much confused, though he did not look like a man to be easily put out. He grew red, he cleared his throat, he shuffled his feet about the carpet. “Upon my word you mistake,” he said; “I have not seen either Mrs Mitford or the Doctor since you left.” “Then who has sent you?” said John. “My dear fellow, you have grown mighty suspicious all at once. Why should any one have sent me? may not I look up an old friend for my own pleasure? surely we have known each other sufficiently for that.” “You might,” said John, “but I don’t think that is the whole question, and it would be best to tell me at once what you want to know--I am quite willing to unfold my experiences,” he said, with a forced smile; and then there was a pause---- “The fact of the matter is,” said Fred Huntley, after an interval, with an attempt at jocularity, “that you are an intensely lucky fellow. What will you say if I tell you that I have just come from Fernwood, and that if any one sent me it was Kate Crediton, wishing for a report as to your health and spirits--though it is not so long since she has seen you, I suppose?” “_Kate_ Crediton?” said John, haughtily. “I beg your pardon: my sisters are intimate with her, you know, and I hear her called so fifty times in a day--one falls into it without knowing. Hang it! since you will have it, Mitford, Miss Crediton did speak to me before I left. She heard I was coming to Camelford, and she came to me the night before--last night, in fact--and told me you were here alone, and she was uneasy about you. I wish anybody was uneasy about me. She wanted to know if you were lonely, if you were unhappy--half a hundred things. I hope you don’t object to her anxiety. I assure you it conveyed a very delightful idea of your good fortune to me.” “Whatever Miss Crediton chose to say must have been like herself,” cried John, trembling with sudden passion, “and no doubt she thought you were a very proper ambassador. But you must be aware, Huntley, that ladies judge very differently on these points from men. If you please we will not go further into that question.” “It was not I who began it, I am sure,” said Fred; and another pause ensued, during which John sat with lowering brows, and an expression no one had ever seen on his face before. “Look here, Mitford,” said Fred, suddenly, “don’t go and vex yourself for nothing. If any indiscretion of mine should make dispeace between you----” “Pray don’t think for a moment that such a thing is likely to happen,” said John.