If the young lady in the high-backed rocking-chair had any idea of giving Mr Croft and Miss March an opportunity of expressing their sentiments toward each other, she took no immediate steps to do so; for she gently rocked herself; she talked about the novel she had been reading; she blamed Miss March for staying so long in her room on such a beautiful afternoon; and she was the primary cause of a conversation among the three upon the differences between New York weather and that of Virginia; and this continued until old Mrs Keswick joined the party, and changed the conversation to the consideration of the fact that a fertilizer agent, a pill man, or a blackmailer would find out a person's whereabouts, even if he were attending the funeral of his grandmother on a desert island. The next morning, about an hour after breakfast, Lawrence was walking up and down on the grass in front of the house, smoking a cigar, and troubling his mind. He had had no opportunity on the previous evening to be alone with Miss March, for the little party sat together in the parlor until they separated for bed; and so, of course, nothing was yet settled. He was overstaying the time he had expected to spend here, and he felt nervous about it. He had hoped to see Miss March after breakfast, but she seemed to have withdrawn herself entirely from observation. Perhaps she considered that she had sufficiently rejected him on the previous morning, and that she now intended, except when she was sure of the company of the others, to remain in her room until he should go away. But he had no such opinion in regard to their interview on Pine Top Hill. He believed that he had been punished, not rejected, and that when he should be able to explain everything to her, he would be forgiven. That, at least, was his earnest hope, and hope makes us believe almost anything. But, although there were so many difficulties in his way, Lawrence had a friend in that household who still remained true to him. Mrs Keswick, with sun-bonnet and umbrella, came out upon the porch, and said cheerily: "I should think a gentleman like you would prefer to be with the ladies than to be walking about here by yourself. They have gone to take a walk in the woods. I should have said that Miss March has gone on ahead, with her little maid Peggy. My niece was going with her, but I called her back to attend to some housekeeping matters for me, and I think she will be kept longer than she expected, for I have just sent Letty to her to be shown how to cut out a frock. But you needn't wait; you can go right through the flower-garden, and take the path over the fields into the woods." And, having concluded this bit of conscienceless and transparent management, the old lady remarked that she, herself, was going for a walk, and left him.