"Thank you," replied Dorinda, shaking hands, and wondering why the man was so emphatically agreeable. Perhaps a touch of her father's misanthropy made her suspicious, or perhaps Carrington rather overdid his welcome. "I am glad to meet you. Rupert has often spoken about you." "I hope he has said nice things," rattled on the barrister, as the trio returned to the house. "You see, he only remembers what a nice person I was at Rugby, and it is years since we met. I may have changed for the worse." "I don't see any change in you," replied Hendle, with mild surprise. "Don't undervalue yourself, Carrington. Why didn't you come on to the church?" "Perhaps you didn't know that we were there," suggested Dorinda. "My father may have forgotten to deliver Rupert's message." "Oh no. The message was delivered right enough, Miss Mallien. But I have been young myself, and never, never, never spoil sport." "You talk as if you were a hundred," remarked Hendle, as they began the meal. "So I am, in experience of the seamy side of life. You, my dear fellow, are about five years of age. I expect you have found that out, Miss Mallien. He is the most unsophisticated youth, who has been wrapped up in cotton wool all his life, knowing disagreeables only from the newspapers and novels." "I think that Rupert is less unsophisticated than you think," replied Dorinda, a trifle dryly, for she did not admire Carrington's easy tone of patronage toward her lover. "And why do you say that you expect I have found that out? I may be unsophisticated also." "You are everything that is charming," said Carrington alertly, "but, having met your father, I think that you are not to be taken in by people." Dorinda colored, knowing well what the keen-witted barrister meant. However, she endeavored to turn his point by altering slightly a well-worn quotation. "To know him is a liberal education, I suppose you mean," she said, lightly. "Don't take my father too seriously, Mr. Carrington. His bark is worse than his bite." "Oh, I am sure of that," replied Carrington, who was sure of nothing of the sort. "We both barked at one another until the Vicarage jungle rang. We hope to meet again, Miss Mallien, and renew our contest of wits. By the way, to go to another subject--the Vicar. What a man, and what surroundings!" "He is quite a character," laughed Dorinda, "but the dearest old man in the world." The conversation continued, mostly in a bantering way, for some time, and then, tea finished, Rupert proposed to see Dorinda to the gates of the park. "If you don't mind being left alone, Carrington." "Not at all; not at all. Gather ye rosebuds," said the barrister, lightly; "good day and good-bye until our next happy meeting, Miss Mallien."