I declare we shall be a charming party; and remember to take off your glove, dear, and give it to me.' 'We had better go downstairs now,' said Lady Simpson.

'Bridegrooms are very impatient at these times.' Lady Simpson took the blushing, frightened Netta by the hand, and led her into the drawing-room.

Truly the poor child did look like a lovely country rose, as Miss Simpson had not inaptly called her.

Howel led her, proud of her beauty, to the portly Sir John, who patted her kindly on the cheeks, and reminded Netta so strongly of her father that the tears sprung into her eyes.

Howel's frown soon checked them, and a thundering knock at the door, followed by the entrance of Mr Simpson, junior, and his friend, Captain Dancy, turned her attention from the father to the son.