"You get off home," she said to her father; "I'll see to the Horse and Groom to-morrow." Mr.Vickers muttered something under his breath, and then, with a forlorn attempt at dignity, departed.
Miss Vickers, ignoring the remarks of one or two fathers of families who were volunteering information as to what they would do if she were their daughter, watched him out of sight and resumed her walk.

She turned once or twice as though to make sure that she was not observed, and then, making her way in the direction of Mr.Chalk's house, approached it cautiously from the back.
Mr.Chalk, who was in the garden engaged in the useful and healthful occupation of digging, became aware after a time of a low whistle proceeding from the farther end.

He glanced almost mechanically in that direction, and then nearly dropped his spade as he made out a girl's head surmounted by a large hat.

The light was getting dim, but the hat had an odd appearance of familiarity.

A stealthy glance in the other direction showed him the figure of Mrs.Chalk standing to attention just inside the open French windows of the drawing-room.
[Illustration: "He made out a girl's head surmounted by a large hat."] The whistle came again, slightly increased in volume.