There were not many passers-by to look at that hot August evening; but presently up the dusty road came a young man, well-dressed and well-looking. Cherrie knew him, and greeted him with a gracious smile, for it was Mr. Johnston, Captain Cavendish's servant. Mr. Johnston, with a look of unqualified admiration at her dark, bright face, took off his hat.
"Good-evening, Miss Nettleby. Ain't it shocking 'ot? Been to the picnic to-day?"
Cherrie nodded.
"'Ad a good time, I 'ope. Weren't you nearly melted with the 'eat?"
"Yes, it was warm," said Cherrie; "got anything for me?"
"A letter," said Mr. Johnston, producing the document, "which he'd 'ave come himself honely hold Major Grove hinvited 'im to dinner."
Cherrie eagerly broke open the envelope and read:
"Dearest:—Meet me to-night, at half-past eight, in the cedar dell, without fail. Destroy this as soon as read.
"G. S."
Cherrie tore the note into atoms, and strewed them over the grass.
"There was to be a hanswer," insinuated Mr. Johnston.