\"they were built by squatters fifty or sixty years ago. one isuninhabited; the foresters are going to take it down, as soon as the oldman who lives in the other is dead, poor old fellow! look--there he is--imust go and speak to him. he is so deaf you will hear all our secrets.\"

the old man stood bareheaded in the sun, leaning on his stick at thefront of his cottage. his stiff features relaxed into a slow smile asmargaret went up and spoke to him. mr. lennox hastily introduced thetwo figures into his sketch, and finished up the landscape with asubordinate reference to them--as margaret perceived, when the timecame for getting up, putting away water, and scraps of paper, andexhibiting to each other their sketches. she laughed and blushed mr.

lennox watched her countenance.

\"now, i call that treacherous,\" said she. \"i little thought you were makingold isaac and me into subjects, when you told me to ask him the historyof these cottages.\"

\"it was irresistible. you can\"t know how strong a temptation it was. ihardly dare tell you how much i shall like this sketch.\"

he was not quite sure whether she heard this latter sentence before shewent to the brook to wash her palette. she came back rather flushed, butlooking perfectly innocent and unconscious. he was glad of it, for thespeech had slipped from him unawares--a rare thing in the case of aman who premeditated his actions so much as henry lennox.

the aspect of home was all right and bright when they reached it. theclouds on her mother\"s brow had cleared off under the propitiousinfluence of a brace of carp, most opportunely presented by aneighbour. mr. hale had returned from his morning\"s round, and wasawaiting his visitor just outside the wicket gate that led into the garden.

he looked a plete gentleman in his rather threadbare coat and well-worn hat.margaret was proud of her father; she had always a fresh andtender pride in seeing how fāvourably he impressed every stranger; stillher quick eye sought over his face and found there traces of someunusual disturbance, which was only put aside, not cleared away.

mr. hale asked to look at their sketches.

\"i think you hāve made the tints on the thatch too dark, hāve you not?\" ashe returned margaret\"s to her, and held out his hand for mr. lennox\"s,which was withheld from him one moment, no more.

\"no, papa! i don\"t think i hāve. the house-leek and stone-crop hāvegrown so much darker in the rain. is it not like, papa?\" said she, peepingover his shoulder, as he looked at the figures in mr. lennox\"s drawing.

\"yes, very like. your figure and way of holding yourself is capital. andit is just poor old isaac\"s stiff way of stooping his long rheumatic back.

what is this hanging from the branch of the tree? not a bird\"s nest,surely.\"

\"oh no! that is my bonnet. i never can draw with my bonnet on; itmakes my head so hot. i wonder if i could manage figures. there are somany people about here whom i should like to sketch.\"