Two Strangers

t. It was full of light from within, against which Lucy's figure stood dark. She was so much afraid to keep the gentlemen waiting that she had come out there to be ready, and was spe

t before more than once that day, had still matter to murmur about down to the very last moment by the opening of the door. It went on indeed for two or three minutes while they stood there, notwithstanding th

est one. He has a huge beard. You'll perhaps think he's not very intellectual or that sort of thing; but he's our Raaf-he's mother's Raaf-and you're so fond

ere aware of a new voice breaking{43} in-a small, sw

ou. Won't you come when Tiny wishes i

ted Tiny, "see gemp

from the doorway, and then Lucy followed in pursuit. But the little thing, shouting and laughing, with the rush of infantile velocity, short-lived but swift, got to the bottom of the bank in a rush, and would have tripped herself up in her speed upon the fastening of the gate had not Bertram, coming a step forward, quickly c

tle lips apart, her face intent. It was only the effect of a shyness which from time to time crept over Tiny, who was not usually shy; but it impressed the man very much who held her, himself quite silent for a moment, which seemed long to both, though it was scarcely appreciable in time, until Lu

old little girl-to run away from mamma, and get your death of cold, an

er back upon them. It was unusual for this littl

friend, as she led the child back. "She is frightened of you; but they are not bad

cried. The little voice came shrill and clear through the night air, tinkling in the{46} smallness of the sound, yet gracious as a princess; and the small incident w

She has no other children to play with, and she is not afraid of anybody.

said Ralph, "to hear all your s

then you shall see-that is, if she comes; for she was not at all sure whether she would come. She is not fond of strangers. She never will come to us when we have people-that is, not chance people-unless she kn

I am fond of children, and the little thing gave me a look; children are strange creatures,

ou perhaps know-her mother?"

ast-No, I've been too long in the waste places of the earth ever to have rubbed shoulders with this

out of sorts, I should think. These damp English nights take all the starch out of one. Co

to town for, that it is never dark like this at night. I love the lamps-don't you, Mr. Bertram?-there is such company in them; even the cottage windows are nice, and that 'Red Lion'-one wishes that a public-house was not such a very bad

stakable figure. He had an equally slim umbrella,{49} beautifully rolled up,

hink so?-well, not after Africa, perhaps; but we are used in England to like t

osion of a laugh which seemed somehow to be an exp

e shall meet at dinner." And then he took off his hat to Lucy, and with a nod to Bertram went on. There was an involuntary pause among the three to watch

o walk now. He never would wet his feet any more than a cat. What is he doing o

cold, it's not so very damp, and Reginald's an Englishman, and isn't afraid of a bit of d

s I am. I've grown a bru

is a very nice time to-to take a giro; look how the sky's beginning to break there out of the clouds. I always like an evening walk; so did mother when she was strong enough. And t

Lucy," s

rd his elder. But the conversation became more easy as they went along, emerging from under the shadow of the trees and crossing the openings of the park. The great house came in sight as they went on, a solid mass amid all its surrounding of shrubbery and flower gardens, with the distance stretching clear on one side, and lights in many windows. It looked a centre of life and substantial, steadfast security, as if it might last out all the changes of fortune, and could never be affected by those vicissitudes which pull down one and set up another. Bertram could fancy that it had stood like a rock while many tempests swept the country. The individual might come and go, but this habitation was that of the race. And it was absurd to think that the little surprise of meeting its master on his way into the village late on an October evening, could have anything to do with the happiness of the family or its security. Bert

oftly lighted, so quietly bright. Her white knitting lay on her knee. She had the evening paper in her hand, which had just come in; for it was one of the advantages of Wradisbury that, though so completely in the country, they were near enough to town to have an evening post. Mrs. Wradisley liked her evening paper. It was, it

d that you have had a pleasant

she comi

her to promise, m

should not like her so much," said Mrs. Wradisley, returning to her journal. A

talk to me unless you wish to," the mother said. She was not exacting. There was nothing wron