"No, on second thoughts, you may let them alone, only select one of my lace aprons and a necklace apiece for them. Those black velvet bands with the pearls sewed on will do. No, let the hair alone, 'tis well enough as it is. Those gipsy hats are very becoming, only they should be trimmed with white. Don't wear red ribbons, girls, whatever you do, but blue may pass well enough. There, that will answer, Wilson." All this time, Mrs. Wilson had been pinning on the aprons, tying on the necklaces, and otherwise decorating us, till I felt as if I was a doll being dressed for Mrs. Thorpe's show window. I glanced at Amabel. She looked more uncomfortable than I had often seen her. There was not much time to notice looks, for my lady beckoned us to follow her, and we did so, passing down stairs into a small drawing-room, where was a table set out with a tea equipage in silver, and any number of odd little china cups. There were two or three gentlemen in the room, and a thin middle-aged lady very plainly dressed, and with a good serene face, which attracted me at once. In one corner, with a table to himself, sat a thin elderly man, evidently an invalid, to whom we were presented as Sir John Throckmorton. The poor man's face brightened as he heard Amabel's name. "And so you are Sir Julius Leighton's daughter," said he kindly. "Your father was an honest, worthy gentleman, and we have had many a day's sport together when we were young. I suppose he is still in London. Will he be coming north before long?" "I do not know, Sir John," answered Amabel. "We have not heard from him since we landed in England." "He will come north at the right time, I dare say," said Lady Throckmorton. "Come, Sir John, I cannot have you monopolizing our young ladies. We shall have cutting of throats presently." She then gave us seats on each side of herself, and presented the gentlemen as they came up. I remember none of them except Captain Lovelace, who had the impudence to claim a previous acquaintance, and Mr. Cheriton, who came in just as the ceremony was concluded. He looked surprised, and, as it seemed to me, not very well-pleased, at finding us in such company. I noticed in a moment that, while all the other gentlemen wore white rose-buds in their button-holes, he wore a red clove pink which Amabel had given him that very morning. I think Amabel saw it too, for she blushed and looked confused. Lady Throckmorton's keen eyes flashed from one face to the other as if she suspected something. "So you know my young visitors already, Mr. Cheriton," said she. "How is that?" "We are neighbors, you know," answered Mr. Cheriton easily, "and as their parish priest and spiritual guide, it was my duty to make acquaintance with them." I must say I was not pleased with the tone in which he spoke—as if his sacred profession were a thing to be joked about.