When the conversation, however, had come to this pass, beyond which it seemed so difficult to carry it, an interruption occurred. A lumbering old hackney-carriage, well known in the country, which carried everybody to and from the station, of the few who wanted any other means of conveyance but their own legs or their own carriage--and there were not many people of this intermediate class in Stratheden--suddenly swung in heavily at the gate, and sinking deep in the rut, which it went to Ludovic’s heart to see, disfiguring the muddy road through the scanty trees, which called itself the avenue--came laboring toward them. There was a portmanteau on the outside of this vehicle, and somebody within, who thrust out his head as he approached, reconnoitring the curious old gray house. When he saw the two figures advancing from the other side, he called to the driver and leaped out. It was a young man, fair and fashionable, and spotless in apparel, with a beardless but not boyish face, an eyeglass in his eye and a great-coat on his arm. “Excuse me,” he said, “I am sure that I am speaking to--” While at the same time Ludovic Leslie, leaving Margaret, upon whom the stranger had already fixed a very decided gaze, went forward, saying, “Aubrey Bellingham--how do you do? My sister told us she expected you to-day.” “Yes,” said the young man, “here I am. I came up as soon as I got her summons. It is a fine thing to have nothing to do, for then one is always at the call of one’s friends. May I be presented to--Miss Leslie? whom I have heard of so often. As I am about to enter her service, don’t you think I should know her at once when good-fortune throws me in her way?” “Only Miss Margaret Leslie, Bellingham. You understand, Margaret, that this is Jean’s nephew, whom she was speaking of this morning. I don’t know what he means by entering your service, but perhaps he can explain that himself.” The stranger gave Margaret a very keen look of examination--not the chance glance of an ordinary meeting, nor yet the complimentary surprise of sudden admiration of a pretty face. The look meant a great deal more than this, and might have confused Margaret if she had not been far beyond noticing anything of the kind. He seemed to look, try, judge all in a moment, and the keen, sudden inspection struck Sir Ludovic, though he was not very swift to mark such undercurrents of meaning. It seemed to take a long time, so searching and thorough was it; and yet almost before Ludovic’s voice had ceased to vibrate, Bellingham replied, “I believe I am to be the courier of the party, which is the same as entering Miss Leslie’s service. My aunts are used to me. Miss Leslie, it is a very quaint relationship this of yours to my aunts. I call both your sisters by that endearing title.”