Look after Herrick while I am gone," with a fine assumption of manly dignity.

But he need not have troubled himself; Malcolm was not disposed to miss him in the least.
As for Elizabeth, her flow of benevolence was not dry yet.

"I heard you tell Dinah last night that you wanted to look over the Crow's Nest," she observed to Malcolm as they rose from the breakfast table, "if you have no letters to write we might stroll down there now." "Oh, my letters will keep," he returned, with such evident pleasure at the proposition that Elizabeth went off in search of her hat; not the hat with the battered brim, mark you, but a charming hat with cream-coloured lace and delicious yellow poppies, that seemed to match the dewy freshness of the morning, and which would not disgrace the gentleman from London; and although she wore no gloves--Elizabeth always drew the line at gloves--her Indian silk sunshade was worthy of Bond Street.

As the Crow's Nest was within sight of the gates of the Wood House, they very soon accomplished the distance.
It was a homely little place enough, and the Kestons had described it pretty accurately.

It was a mere cottage, and not a picturesque one either, for the architecture left much to be desired; but the row of trees that divided it from the road, amongst which shone the red berries of the rowans, and the trim, shady lawn, gave it a secluded and pleasant aspect.
The sitting-room was small but cosy, and there was a fair-sized dining-room; but Malcolm at once took a fancy to a small upper room with a window overlooking the road; it had evidently been used as a dressing-room, for there was a gentleman's wardrobe in it, and a writing-table and easy-chair.
"I must coax Verity into giving me this room," he said half to himself; but Elizabeth heard him.
"Verity! is that Mrs.Keston ?" she asked.