He stood on the steps, and if he had been one of the stable-boys he would have scratched his head.

Now I must stop and dress. I shall put on a black tea-frock I have. Mr.

Carruthers shall see I have not caught frumpdom from my hosts.

_Night._

I do think men are the most horrid creatures--you can't believe what they say or rely upon them for five minutes! Mrs. Carruthers was right; she said, "Evangeline, remember, it is quite difficult enough to trust one's self without trusting a man."

Such an afternoon I have had! That annoying feeling of waiting for something all the time and nothing happening. For Mr. Carruthers did not turn up, after all. How I wish I had not dressed and expected him!

He is probably saying to himself he is well out of the business, now I have gone. I don't suppose he meant a word of his protestations to me.

Well, he need not worry. I had no intention of jumping down his throat; only I would have been glad to see him, because he is human, and not like any one here.

Of course, Lord Robert will be the same, and I shall probably never see either of them again. How can Lord Robert get here when he does not know Lady Katherine? No; it was just said to say something nice when I was leaving, and he will be as horrid as Mr. Carruthers.

I am thankful, at least, that I did not tell Lady Katherine; I should have felt such a goose. Oh! I do wonder what I shall do next. I don't know at all how much things cost; perhaps three hundred a year is very poor. I am sure my best frocks always were five or six hundred francs each, and I dare say hotels run away with money. But for the moment I am rich, as Mr.

Barton kindly advanced some of my legacy to me; and, oh, I am going to see life! and it is absurd to be sad! I shall go to bed, and forget how cross I feel.

They are going to have a shoot here next week--pheasants. I wonder if they will have a lot of old men. I have not heard all who are coming.

Lady Katherine said to me after dinner this evening that she was sorry, as she was afraid it would be most awkward for me their having a party, on account of my deep mourning, and I, if I felt it dreadfully, I need not consider they would find me the least rude if I preferred to have dinner in my room.

I don't want to have dinner in my room. Think of the stuffiness of it! And perhaps hearing laughter going on down-stairs.

I can always amuse myself watching faces, however dull they are. I thanked her, and said it would not be at all necessary, as I must get accustomed to seeing people. I could not count upon always meeting hostesses with such kind thoughts as hers, and I might as well get used to it.

She said "Yes," but not cordially.

To-morrow Mrs. Mackintosh, the eldest daughter, is arriving with her four children. I remember her wedding five years ago. I have never seen her since.

She was very tall and thin, and stooped dreadfully, and Mrs. Carruthers said Providence had been very kind in giving her a husband at all. But when Mr. Mackintosh t.i.ttuped down the aisle with her, I did not think so.

A wee, sandy fellow about up to her shoulder!

Oh, I would hate to be tied to that! I think to be tied to anything could not be very nice. I wonder how I ever thought of marrying Mr. Carruthers offhand!

I feel now I shall never marry, for years. Of course one can't be an old maid, but for a long time I mean to see life first.

TRYLAND,

Thursday, _November 10th._

BRANCHES,

_Wednesday._

DEAR MISS TRAVERS,--

I regret exceedingly I was unable to come over to Tryland to-day, but hope to do so before you leave. I trust you are well, and did not catch cold on the drive.

Yours, very truly,

CHRISTOPHER CARRUTHERS.

_This_ is what I get this morning! Pig!

Well, I sha'n't be in if he does come. I can just see him pulling himself together once temptation (it makes me think of Malcolm!) is out of his way; he no doubt feels he has had an escape, as I am n.o.body very grand.

The letters come early here, as everywhere, but in a bag which only Mr.

Montgomerie can open, and one has to wait until every one is seated at breakfast before he produces the key and deals them all out.

Mr. Carruthers's was the only one for me, and it had "Branches" on the envelope, which attracted Mr. Montgomerie's attention, and he began to "burrrr," and hardly gave me time to read it before he commenced to ask questions apropos of the place, to get me to say what the letter was about. He is a curious man.

"Carruthers is a capital fellow, they tell me--er. You had better ask him over quietly, Katherine, if he is all alone at Branches"--this with one eye on me in a questioning way.

I remained silent.

"Perhaps he is off to London, though?"

I pretended to be busy with my coffee.

"Best pheasant-shoot in the county, and a close borough under the old regime. Hope he will be more neighborly--Er--suppose he must shoot 'em before November?"

I b.u.t.tered my toast.

Then the "burrrrs" began. I wonder he does not have a noise that ends with d--n simply. It would save him time.

"Couldn't help seeing your letter was from Branches. Hope Carruthers gives you some news?"

As he addressed me deliberately, I was obliged to answer:

"I have no information. It is only a business letter," and I ate toast again.

He "burrred" more than ever, and opened some of his own correspondence.

"What am I to do, Katherine," he said, presently--"that confounded fellow Campion has thrown me over for next week, and he is my best gun?

At short notice like this, it's impossible to replace him with the same cla.s.s of shot."

"Yes, dear," said Lady Katherine, in that kind of voice that has not heard the question. She was deep in her own letters.

"Katherine!" roared Mr. Montgomerie. "Will you listen when I speak--burrrr!" and he thumped his fist on the table.