"Were you there with Isaac this morning? So far off as that!"
"He and I and Mrs. Carleton had walked there. He is a famous walker now."
"A little bird whispered a tale to me about you, Georgina, as I came through London," he said, resuming their walk. "Shall I tell it?"
"Tell it if you like. What is it?"
"That you might, at no very distant time, be mistress of Hawkhurst. His lordship----"
"What a wicked untruth," she burst forth, as impulsively as ever she had spoken in former days. "Who told it you? It was Sarah, I'm sure; and she knows I refused him."
"I'm sure he is a well-meaning young man; easy, good-tempered, and very fond of you."
"He is as stupid as an owl," returned Georgina, in her anger. "Oh--I see: you are only laughing at me."
"Tell me why you would not have him. We used to tell each other mutual secrets in bygone days. Do you remember that real secret--that accident--when you nearly set the deanery on fire, by placing the lamp too close to the window-curtains, and I burnt my hands in putting the fire out, and then took down the curtains afterwards, to remove all traces of fire from them? I suppose the dean does not know the truth to this day."
"Mamma does not; and that is a great deal more to the purpose. She still believes the curtains were mysteriously stolen. They were fortunately very beautiful."