That fir-clad hill became Lucy's favourite resort by day, as it had been her brother's in the past, by night; and she went again and again, till one afternoon, following out an old habit, she was stooping to pick a plant from where it grew, when she became aware of someone approaching, and she started and coloured, and then recovered herself, and rose erect and slightly resentful, for Major Day, looking very sad and old stood before her, raising his hat. "May I see what you have there?" he said gravely. "I think it is an _Amanita_," said Lucy, trying hard to speak firmly, as she held out the whitish-looking fungus toward the old botanist, as if it had been a tiny Japanese parasol. Major Day fixed his _pince-nez_ on the organ it was made to pinch, and, taking the curious vegetable, carefully examined it, turning it over and over before saying decisively,-- "Yes, exactly; _Amanita Vernus_, a very poisonous species, Miss Alleyne. I--er--I am very glad to see that you keep up your knowledge of this interesting branch of botany. I have been paying a good deal of attention to it in Italy this past autumn and winter." "Indeed," said Lucy. "Yes, my dear--Miss Alleyne," said the major, correcting himself. "The Italians are great eaters of fungi. My brother found Rome and Florence very dull. Of course he was longing to be back amongst his farming stock. Great student of the improvement of cattle, Miss Alleyne. I found the country about Rome and Florence most interesting. It would have been far more so if I had had a sympathetic companion." "I must--I will tell him everything," thought Lucy; and then the colour came, and she felt that it would be impossible, and that her only course was to allow time to smooth away this little burr. "Are you finding truffles?" she said, with assumed cheerfulness. He looked at her in a curiously wistful manner for a few moments, and that look was agony to Lucy, as her conscience told her that she had had a fall from the high niche to which she had risen in the major's estimation. "Yes," he said, slowly, and there was an unwonted coldness and gravity in his manner; "at my old pursuit, Miss Alleyne--at my old pursuit. So you have not quite given it up?" "Oh no," cried Lucy, trying to pass over the coldness, which chilled her warm young heart. "I have been collecting several times lately, and--" Lucy stopped short, for the major was looking at her keenly, as if recalling the fact that when she had been mushrooming she had encountered Rolph sauntering about with a cigar in his mouth. "Yes," said the major, quietly; "and were you very successful?"