‘I hope Rupert will not teaze her as he used to do,’ said Lady Merton; ’last time she was here, his teazing and her whining were nearly unbearable.’

‘Oh! she must have outgrown whining,’ said Anne.

‘I am afraid you cannot promise me that he has outgrown teazing,’ said Lady Merton.

‘The one depends upon the other,’ said Anne; ’if she does not whine, he will not teaze.  But had I not better finish my letter to him, and tell him he must shorten his stay on the Border?’

‘Yes, do so,’ said Lady Merton; ’and tell him not to lose his keys as usual.’

‘I suppose they are gone by this time,’ said Anne, as Lady Merton left the room, and she sat down to her desk to write to her brother.

CHAPTER II.

Abbeychurch St. Mary’s was a respectable old town, situated at the foot of St. Austin’s Hill, a large green mound of chalk, named from an establishment of Augustine Friars, whose monastery (now converted into alms-houses) and noble old church were the pride of the county.  Abbeychurch had been a quiet dull place, scarcely more than a large village, until the days of railroads, when the sober inhabitants, and especially the Vicar and his family, were startled by the news that the line of the new Baysmouth railway was marked out so as to pass exactly through the centre of the court round which the alms-houses were built.  Happily, however, the difficulty of gaining possession of the property required for this course, proved too great even for the railway company, and they changed the line, cutting their way through the opposite side of St. Austin’s Hill, and spoiling three or four water-meadows by the river.  Soon after the completion of this work, the town was further improved, by the erection of various rows of smart houses, which arose on the slope of the hill, once the airy and healthy play-place of the rising generation of Abbeychurch, and the best spot for flying kites in all the neighbourhood.  London tradesmen were tempted to retire to ’the beautiful and venerable town of Abbeychurch;’ the houses were quickly filled, one street after another was built, till the population of the town was more than doubled.  A deficiency in church accommodation was soon felt, for the old church had before been but just sufficient for the inhabitants.  Various proposals were made—­to fill up the arches with galleries, and to choke the centre aisle with narrow pews; but all were equally distasteful to Mr. Woodbourne, who, placing some benches in the aisle for the temporary accommodation of his new parishioners, made every effort to raise funds to build and endow an additional church.  He succeeded, as we have heard; and it was the tall white spire of the now Church of St. Austin’s, which greeted Anne Merton’s delighted eyes, as on the 27th of August, she, with her father and mother, came to the top of a long hill, about five miles from Abbeychurch.  What that