"I am sorry Mr. Boscawen is gone then, papa. I suppose you had some horse in view?" Another smile and tap of the boot. "I thought so. But, papa, you will never read your letters and notes if I do not return to Ripley; will you?" Sir Foster winked his eye in silence. "My dear Lucy," said Lady Wetheral, playfully, "Sir Foster must bring his letters here every morning for your perusal and advice." "Oh yes, papa, that is an excellent plan; is it not? You must ride over every morning to be searched, and then you will not require my presence at Ripley." Sir Foster sat two hours without speaking, or appearing to attend to the conversation which took place between his fair companions. He sat in the most complete absence of mind, tapping his boot, which Clara resented by silent looks of contempt. Miss Kerrison was so intimately acquainted with her father's ways that her chat flowed on undisturbed, till the ormolu clock struck six; Miss Kerrison then approached her father. "Well, papa, it's time for you to return home; it is six o'clock." "Eh, umph, what?" "You must order your horse, papa, and go to Ripley to dinner." "Oh, Sir Foster surely will not quit us; we shall hope for his company at dinner to-day." Lady Wetheral spoke in earnest and bewitching tones. "No, thank you, dear Lady Wetheral, not to-day. This is papa's way; he always goes on in this way at some person's house, and I dare say, having once called here, papa will be regularly at Wetheral every day." Her ladyship's quick perceptions saw the advantage of gaining Sir Foster Kerrison as a daily visitor; she caught at once the propriety of allowing him to take his own way in the manner and time of his visits: she therefore ceased to pour forth invitations, but, taking at once a comprehensive view of his character and habits, Sir Foster was allowed to depart in the same mechanical form which characterised his entrance. Clara's indignation almost threatened destruction to her plans. She inveighed against the excessive stolidity of a man who could sit in a fine woman's society, and yet be ignorant of her presence! Such a man as Sir Foster might visit at Wetheral innocently enough, for he had not the use of his senses. "My dear Clara," argued her mother, "you are wrong in all your conclusions. Sir Foster has peculiar ways, it is true, but I consider them altogether in our favour. I wish him to become a daily visitor, under the idea of seeing Lucy, who assists me most materially without being aware of it. I wish him to sit as stupidly as he pleases, and to come whenever he pleases; only, my dear Clara, don't look so indignant." "I cannot understand your tactics," said Clara, sharply. "I can't comprehend how stupidity and indifference can be considered in my favour."