“I was calling to see Nanny, and I took the opportunity of bringing Lady Agnes the plant I was telling her about as growing on Cumnor Moss.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Gibson! Mamma, look! this is the Drosera rotundifolia I have been wanting so long.”

“Ah! yes; very pretty, I daresay, only I am no botanist. Nanny is better, I hope? We can’t have any one laid up next week, for the house will be quite full of people—and here are the Danbys writing to offer themselves as well. One comes down for a fortnight of quiet, at Whitsuntide, and leaves half one’s establishment in town; and, as soon as people know of our being here, we get letters without end, longing for a breath of country-air, or saying how lovely the Towers must look in spring; and, I must own, Lord Cumnor is a great deal to blame for it all, for, as soon as ever we are down here, he rides about to all the neighbours, and invites them to come over and spend a few days.”

“We shall go back to town on Friday the 18th,” said Lady Agnes, in a consolatory tone.

“Ah, yes! as soon as we have got over the school visitors’ affair. But it is a week to that happy day.”

“By the way!” said Mr. Gibson, availing himself of the good opening thus presented, “I met my lord at the Cross-trees Farm yesterday, and he was kind enough to ask my little daughter, who was with me, to be one of the party here on Thursday; it would give the lassie great pleasure, I believe.” He paused for Lady Cumnor to speak.

“Oh, well! if my lord asked her, I suppose she must come; but I wish he was not so amazingly hospitable! Not but what the little girl will be quite welcome; only, you see, he met a younger Miss Browning the other day, of whose existence I had never heard.”

“She visits at the school, mamma,” said Lady Agnes.

“Well, perhaps she does; I never said she did not. I knew there was one visitor of the name of Browning; I never knew there were two, but, of course, as soon as Lord Cumnor heard there was another, he must needs ask her; so the carriage will have to go backwards and forwards four times now to fetch them all. So your daughter can come quite easily, Mr. Gibson, and I shall be very glad to see her for your sake. She can sit bodkin with the Brownings, I suppose? You’ll arrange it all with them; and mind you get Nanny well up to her work next week!”

Just as Mr. Gibson was going away, Lady Cumnor called after him, “Oh! by-the-bye, Clare is here; you remember Clare, don’t you? She was a patient of yours, long ago.”

“Clare!” he repeated, in a bewildered tone.

“Don’t you recollect her? Miss Clare, our old governess,” said Lady Agnes. “About twelve or fourteen years ago, before Lady Cuxhaven was married.”

“Oh, yes!” said he. “Miss Clare, who had the scarlet fever here; a very pretty, delicate girl. But I thought she was married!”

“Yes!” said Lady Cumnor. “She was a silly little thing, and did not know when she was well off; we were all very fond of her, I’m sure. She went and married a poor curate, and became a stupid Mrs. Kirkpatrick; but we always kept on calling her ‘Clare.’ And now he’s dead, and left her a widow, and she is staying here; and we are racking our brains to find out some way of helping her to a livelihood, without parting her from her child. She’s somewhere about the grounds, if you like to renew your acquaintance with her.”

“Thank you, my lady. I’m afraid I cannot stop to-day; I have a long round to go. I’ve stayed here too long as it is, I’m afraid.”