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“What do you want, Law?” she said, in a voice which was not so sweet as it had been at the Deanery. She gave a rapid glance up at him as she went on with her darning, and took in the whole picture, the easy-chair and the lounging attitude. If he had sat upright upon the little hard wickerwork chair, Lottie would have felt more merciful.

“Well, I want nothing in particular, except to talk to you a little,” said Law. “You need not be so cross.”

“I am not cross; but to see you in an easy-chair, idling away all the morning——”

“How do you know I’ve been idling this morning? Look at my book: that’s Virgil,” said Law, looking at it with simple admiration. “I don’t think a fellow could do much better than that.”

“But have you really been reading?” Lottie’s tone modified; she began to look at him with respect. “Oh, Law, if you only would work! it would make such a difference, it would make me quite happy. I was speaking to Mr. Ashford last night. You know Mr. Ashford, the minor canon. He is so clever with his pupils. If you could but go to him, if he would only take you, Law!”