"Love is blind," said Elizabeth. "But it's not only his manners; the boy has a perfect genius for saying the wrong thing. Dear old Mrs. Morton was calling yesterday, and you know what a horror she has of theatres and all things theatrical. Well, when she asked Buff what he was going to be, expecting no doubt to hear that he had yearnings after the ministry, he replied quite frankly, 'An actor-man.' I had to run him out of the room. Then he told Mrs. Orr there was nothing he liked so much as fighting, so he meant to be a soldier. She said in her sweet old voice, 'You will fight with the Bible, darling--the sword of the Spirit.' 'Huh!' said Buff, 'queer dumpy little sword that would be.'" Mr. Seton seemed more amused than depressed by the tale of his son's misdeeds, and Elizabeth continued: "After all, what does it matter what Mr. Arthur Townshend thinks of any of us? I've done my best for him, and I hope the meals will be decent; but of course the thought of him has upset Marget's temper. It is odd that when she is cross she _will_ quote hymns. I must say it is discouraging to make some harmless remark about vegetables and receive nothing in reply but a muttered 'Teach me to live that I may dread The grave as little as my bed.'" "Elizabeth, you're an absurd creature," said her father. "Why you and Marget should allow yourselves to be upset by a visit from an ordinary young man I don't know. Dear me, _I'll_ look after him." "And how do you propose to entertain him, Father?" "Well, I might take him one day to see the glass-houses in the Park; there is a beautiful show of chrysanthemums just now. I greatly enjoyed it as I passed through yesterday. Then one morning we could go to the Cathedral--and the Art Gallery and Municipal Buildings are very interesting in their way." "_Dear_ Father," said Elizabeth. * * * * * Mr. Arthur Townshend was expected about seven o'clock, and Elizabeth had planned everything for his reception. Buff would be in bed, and Thomas and Billy under the shelter of their own roof-tree. The house would be tidy and quiet, the fires at their best. She herself would be dressed early and ready to receive him. But it happened otherwise. Elizabeth, a book in hand, was sunk in a large arm-chair, a boy on each of the chair-arms and one on the rug. It was getting dark, but the tale was too breathless to stop for lights; besides, the fire was bright and she held the book so that the fire-light fell on the page. "Over the rock with them!" cried the Brigand Chief; and the men stepped forward to obey his orders. "Oow!" squealed Billy in his excitement. "_Mr. Townshend_," announced Ellen. No one had heard the sounds of his arrival. Elizabeth rose hastily, sending Buff and Billy to the floor, her eyes dazed with fire-light, her mind still in the Robbers' Cave. "But the train isn't in yet," was her none too hospitable greeting.