When he rose the next morning it was with a sense of having to undergo some ordeal. He had to rest his head that night under the roof of Crossgill Vicarage; and before he sought his pillow he might have to encounter some difficult passage of arms with Dora. It was some months since they had met, and he had still a kindly feeling for his old playmate. If friendship would satisfy her he could promise her a tolerable amount; perhaps she had taken him at his word, and there would be no attempt to draw him again under her influence; perhaps she had grown reasonable. Dora was always such a sensible creature, and had begun to understand for herself that they would be better apart. If this were so he would eat his dinner with a light heart, feeling that nothing was expected of him. Above everything he desired that there might be peace between them; he would never willingly make her his enemy. Perhaps some suspicion that she might prove a dangerous adversary at this time crossed his mind; he had great kindness of heart also, and would have hated to disappoint or grieve any woman, especially one for whom he had once entertained a tenderness. It was with somewhat dubious feelings, therefore, that he drove himself up that evening to the Vicarage. Dora was not as before in the porch to receive him, but the old nurse met him at the door with a pleasant smile on her wrinkled face as she led him into the hall, dusky and warm with fire-light. "The young ladies were in the drawing-room," she told him as she helped him off with his overcoat. Garth stood and warmed himself after his long cold drive and listened, nothing loath, to the old woman's prattle. Nurse was a great favorite of his. There was quite a ruddy glow when the drawing-room door was opened; the soft, harmonious light of the great white china lamps pervaded the long low room. In spite of his dubious feelings Garth could not help admiring that pretty picture of domestic comfort. Dora was in her favorite carved chair working, with Flo curled up on the rug at her feet; another girlish form was half hidden in the recesses of the Vicar's great easy-chair. The white dresses of the girls quite shone in the fire-light. As Dora advanced to meet him Garth was driven to confess to himself that he had never seen her to such advantage. The soft velvet gown that she wore set off her golden hair and beautifully fair skin to perfection. As she gave him her hand with her prettiest smile a rose-tint, very like a dawning blush, tinged her cheeks. "You are very good to come to us to-night," she said in the lowest possible voice. "I was half afraid you would be proud and stay away on purpose to punish me." "Why should I wish to punish you?" he answered good-humoredly. "So these are your sisters. The question is, which is Beatrix and which is Flo?" and he shook hands with them both with a cordial word or two.