Rupert walked straight in at the open door, as he always did. When he saw Mr. Russell sitting at our table, holding the gold watch, and me standing near, his face grew as black as midnight. He scowled at Mr. Russell, and shuffled more than ever. What a contrast the two were, to be sure! "I say, Kitty—" he burst out. Then he stopped. I knew why. I didn't like him to speak so to me before Mr. Russell. It sounded rude; and, besides, I did not like him to seem so much at home—calling me by my name, and putting on that angry manner, as if I was a child to be scolded! Well, I was but a silly lass, and my head had been pretty well turned that day. I suppose I showed pretty plainly what I thought. Rupert always said I could toss my head, and could be scornful, for all I was so humble and bashful. Not that I was humble really, only folks said it of me. Mr. Russell showed plainly what he felt too. He put down the watch and tilted his chair, leaning back on it, and he fixed his eyes hard upon Rupert, lifting his eyebrows with a sort of disdain, as if he was looking down upon a lower animal altogether. I don't now think that kind of manner from one man to another anything grand, and I know well enough it is not gentlemanly. A true gentleman is kind and courteous all round, just as much to those beneath him as to those above him. But I had seen then very little of life, and Mr. Russell's manner seemed to me uncommon fine and dignified. I grew more and more ashamed to think how awkward and clumsy Rupert was, and how that very day he had dared to ask me to marry him. I began to feel, too, that I never could nor would marry Rupert,—no, not if he asked me fifty times! Rupert turned away from me and glared at Mr. Russell. I don't think "glared" is too hard a word. Rupert had a temper naturally, and sometimes it got the better of him, though he did fight to keep it down. Mr. Russell's manner was enough to try it; and Rupert always had cared for me as he cared for nobody else. I suppose it was hard for him to see me with this stranger, so different from himself, and me seeming already taken with him. "Mr. Phrynne told me I was to show you the way to our cottage," he says in a short angry tone. "Thank you," Mr. Russell made answer. "When I'm in want of a conductor, I'll apply to you." It didn't strike me at the moment, that this was not the way he ought to have taken my father's message. "Mr. Phrynne said so," Rupert said again gruffly. "You can be so good as to tell Mr. Phrynne that I already know the way," Mr. Russell answered. "When I have had a stroll, I shall make my appearance at your mother's." Then he turned to me, speaking in a different tone, like to an equal, while his manner to Rupert was like an inferior. "I have kept you too long, I'm afraid," says he; "but I suppose I may look in again by-and-by, just to ask after my poor sister?"