They were descending a steep winding road as he spoke, and in another moment they entered the village. Queenie always spoke of it afterwards as one of the prettiest villages she had ever seen. A little stream flowed down the middle of the road, the cottages looked picturesque and in good condition; a fine old church seemed to tower in symbolic majesty over the whole place. Emmie and she uttered a simultaneous cry of admiration when they first caught sight of Crossgill Vicarage. It was the ideal Vicarage; the neatly-kept gravelled paths, the exquisitely trimmed lawn, the flower-beds masses of variegated colors, the rare shrubs and plants, all spoke of the owner's cultivated taste; the house itself, with its quaint casements and low bay-windows, was almost embosomed in creepers and climbing roses; the porch was full of flowers. As the door opened they found themselves in a little square hall, wainscoted in oak, with an oak staircase and low gallery running across it. An old servant with a wrinkled face, evidently about eighty years old, welcomed Cathy and Garth with beaming smiles. Garth shook hands with her. "Well, Nurse, I have brought visitors to see your young lady. Oh, there is Miss Dora," as a slight girlish figure crossed the gallery, and came rapidly down the broad low staircase towards them. What a picturesque little figure it was. Picturesque--that was just the word for her. No one in their senses could have called Dora Cunningham pretty, but taken altogether she was simply charming. She was dressed so quaintly too; the shady coarse straw hat, with the wreath of wild convolvoli, just suited the pale _piquante_ face; and over her dark blue cambric she wore a long narrow holland apron, laced across the bodice in old-century fashion, and bordered with antique silken flowers. A kitten's soft head and innocent blue eyes peeped out of one of the pockets. "You have come at last," she said with just a slight accent of reproach, and a little satirical elevation of the eyebrows. "I have been looking for you for weeks past. Where is Langley? and why has not Ted been to see me lately?" "I have brought Miss Faith and our guest, Miss Marriott, instead," returned Garth. "This is her little sister Emmie. Are you going to give us some tea, Miss Dora? Where is your father? Shall I go and look for him while you show these ladies your pretty drawing-room and conservatory?" "Nurse, will you send papa to us, please. No, Mr. Clayton, I am not going to let you escape like that; you owe me some apology first for your long absence. What have you been doing? What have you all been doing? Come in here; I mean to catechise you."