“Indeed, I did nothing of the kind, you absurd boy!” exclaimed the Rosebud, eagerly. “As well as I remember, I did happen to recognise Mr. Carrington, but I really wonder that I should have done so; for I was so dreadfully frightened on the first occasion, that I could think of nothing but the horrible man who had attempted to take my money and as the proud Puss uttered this slightly apocryphal statement, she gave her head a little pettish toss, which meant a great deal, and expressed its meaning unmistakably--at least so thought Ernest Carrington; and the grave expression of his face became graver than ever. “Talking of falling among thieves,” began Mr. Slowkopf, addressing Ernest, “reminds me of the last time I met you.” “Complimentary, very,” muttered Wilfred, _sotto voce_. “We were then discussing the subject of white lies, as they are called,” resumed Mr. Slowkopf; “now I have since recollected a passage in one of the sermons of that learned and excellent divine, Blair, which affords a curious commentary on what we are saying. I cannot remember his words, but you’ll find it in the fourth sermon in the second volume.” “We have Blair’s Sermons,” remarked Mrs. Colville; “they are on the book-shelves by you, Mr. Carrington, if you wish to refer to the passage.” “The second volume, I think you said, Slowkopf?” inquired Ernest, taking down the book as he spoke. Receiving an affirmative grunt, the young clergyman turned his chair, so that the firelight fell strongly on the book, leaving his face in shadow, which circumstance prevented the fact from transpiring, that scarcely had he opened the volume when he gave a sudden start, then coloured violently, and then examined the page before him most carefully and minutely. Having completed his investigation, he turned over two or three leaves, and, in his usual voice and manner, read aloud the paragraph to which the curate had referred. In the meantime, Hugh, by dint of coaxing, had inveigled his mother into providing the materials for a bowl of snapdragon, wherein, to his great delight, Mr. Slowkopf was induced solemnly, heavily, and perseveringly, to burn his reverend fingers in fishing out almonds and raisins, which he invariably dropped, for Hugh to pick up and eat. Just when the fun was at its highest, and even Mrs. Colville joining heartily in the chorus of laughter, Ernest approached the Rosebud, with the volume still in his hand, and said quietly-- “Pray, Miss Colville, do you ever study Blair’s Sermons?” “Oh, I have read some of them,” was the reply; “but why do you ask?--are you afraid I shall find you out if you appropriate the worthy man’s ideas?” “On the contrary, he appears to have appropriated something of mine,” was the answer. “Indeed! and what might that be?” returned the Rosebud, wholly unconscious of the dangerous ground upon which she was treading.