The Clever Woman of the Family

Not a word had been granted on either side to the conventional vows of

secrecy, always made to be broken, and perhaps each tacitly felt that

the less secrecy the better for Rachel. Certain it is that Mrs. Curtis

went into the Deanery with her head considerably higher, kissed Rachel

vehemently, and, assuring her she knew all about it, and was happier

than she had ever thought to be again, excused her from appearing at

luncheon, and hurried down thereto, without giving any attention to a

feeble entreaty that she would not go so fast. And when at three o'clock

Rachel crept downstairs to get into the carriage for her return home,

the good old Dean lay in wait for her, told her she must allow him an

old friend's privilege, kissed her, congratulated her, and said he would

beg to perform the ceremony.

"Oh, Mr. Dean, it is nothing like that."

He laughed, and handed her in.

"Mother, mother, how could you?" sighed Rachel, as they drove on.

"My dear, they were so kind; they could not help knowing!"

"But it can't be."

"Rachel, my child, you like him!"

"He does not know half about me yet. Mother, don't tell Fanny or any one

till I have seen him again."

And the voice was so imperious with the wayward vehemence of illness

that Mrs. Curtis durst not gainsay it. She did not know how Alick Keith

was already silencing those who asked if he had heard of the great event

at the Dean's party. Still less did she guess at the letter at that

moment in writing:-"My Dear Bessie,--Wish me joy. I have gone in for the uncroquetable

lawn, and won it.--Your affectionate brother', "A. C. Keith."