Mary looked at her in astonishment. "I see no connection," was the Rector's quiet reply. "You know very well that your mother does not approve of Sir Philip Meryon, and does not wish you to be in his company." "Precisely. But as I am not to be allowed to marry Stephen, I must of course amuse myself with some one else. If I can't be engaged to Stephen, I won't be anything at all to him. But, then, I don't admit that I'm bound." "At present all you're asked"--said Meynell dryly--"is not to disobey your mother. But don't you think it's rather rude to Miss Elsmere to be discussing private affairs she doesn't understand?" "Why shouldn't she understand them? Mary, my guardian here and my mother say that I mustn't be engaged to Stephen Barron--that I'm too young--or some nonsense of that kind. And Stephen--oh, well, Stephen's too good for this world! If he really loved me, he'd do something desperate, wouldn't he?--instead of giving in. I don't much mind, myself--I don't really care so much about marrying Stephen--only if I'm not to marry him, and somebody else wants to please me, why shouldn't I let him?" She turned her beautiful wild eyes upon Mary Elsmere. And as she did so Mary was suddenly seized with a strong sense of likeness in the speaker--her gesture--her attitude--to something already familiar. She could not identify the something, but her gaze fastened itself on the face before her. Meynell meanwhile answered Hester's tirade. "I'm quite ready to talk this over with you, Hester, on our way home. But don't you see that you are making Miss Elsmere uncomfortable?" "Oh, no, I'm not," said Hester coolly. "You've been talking to her of all sorts of grave, stupid things--and she wants amusing--waking up. I know the look of her. Don't you?" She slipped her arm inside Mary's. "You know, if you'd only do your hair a little differently--fluff it out more--you'd be so pretty! Let me do it for you. And you shouldn't wear that hat--no, you really shouldn't. It's a brute! I could trim you another in half an hour. Shall I? You know--I really like you. _He_ sha'n't make us quarrel!" She looked with a young malice at Meynell. But her brow had smoothed, and it was evident that her temper was passing away. "I don't agree with you at all about my hat," said Mary with spirit. "I trimmed it myself, and I'm extremely proud of it." Hester laughed out--a laugh that rang through the trees. "How foolish you are!--isn't she, Rector? No!--I suppose that's just what you like. I wonder what you _have_ been talking to her about? I shall make her tell me. Where are you going to?" She paused, as Mary and the Rector, at a point where two paths converged, turned away from the path which led back to Upcote Minor. Mary explained again that Mr. Meynell and she were on the way to the Forked Pond cottage, where the Rector wished to call upon her mother. Hester looked at her gravely.