It was the twilight of a late spring evening when the congregation streamed out of Church, and Elvira, who had managed hitherto to avoid all intercourse with the River Hollow party, found herself grappled by Lisette without hope of rescue. “My dear, this is a pleasure at last; I have so much to say to you. Can’t you give us a day?” “I am going to town to-morrow,” said Elvira, never gracious to any Gould. “To-morrow! I heard the family had put off their migration.” “I go with Lucas. I am to stay with Mrs. Evelyn, Lord Fordham’s mother, you know, who is to present me at the Drawing-room,” said Elvira, magnificently. “Oh! if I could only see you in your court dress it would be memorable,” cried Mrs. Gould. “A little longer, my dear, our paths lie together.” “I must get home. My packing--” “And may I ask what you wear, my dear? Is your dress ordered?” “O yes, I had it made at Paris. It is white satin, with lilies--a kind of lily one gets in Algiers.” And she expatiated on the fashion till Mrs. Gould said-- “Well, my love, I hope you will enjoy yourself at the Honourable Mrs. Evelyn’s. What is the address, in case I should have occasion to write?” “I shall have no time for doing commissions.” “That was not my meaning,” was the gentle answer; “only if there be anything you ought to be informed of--” “They would write to me from home. Why, what do you mean?” asked the girl, her attention gained at last. “Did it never strike you why you are sent up alone?” “Only that Mrs. Brownlow is so cut up about Janet.” “Ah! youth is so sweetly unconscious. It is well that there are those who are bound to watch for your interests, my dear.” “I can’t think what you mean.” “I will not disturb your happy innocence, my love. It is enough for your uncle and me to be awake, to counteract any machinations. Ah! I see your astonishment! You are so simple, my dear child, and you have been studiously kept in the dark.” “I can’t think what you are driving at,” said Elvira, impatiently. “Mrs. Brownlow would never let any harm happen to me, nor Allen either. Do let me go.” “One moment, my darling. I must love you through all, and you will know your true friends one day. Are you--let me ask the question out of my deep, almost maternal, solicitude--are you engaged to Mr. Brownlow?” “Of course I am!” “Of course, as you say. Most ingenuous! Ah? well, may it not be too late!” “Don’t be so horrid, Lisette! Allen is not half a bad fellow, and frightfully in love with me.” “Exactly, my dear unsuspicious dove. There! I see you are impatient. You will know the truth soon enough. One kiss, for your mother’s sake.” But Elvira broke from her, and rejoined Allen. “I have sounded the child,” said Lisette to her husband that evening, “and she is quite in the dark, though the very servants in the house are better informed.” “Better informed than the fact, may be,” said Mr. Gould (for a man always scouts a woman’s gossip).