engagement, if such engagement existed,
with Joyce. Whether she had deliberately
planned her marriage with old Creswell,
and had consequently abandoned the other
design, or whether the old gentleman had
proposed suddenly to her, and the temptation
of riches and position being too great
for her to withstand, she had flung her first
lover aside on the spur of the moment, and
thereby, perhaps, rendered herself wretched
for life. Or what was it that the old woman
said, about Joyce enlisting as a soldier?
Perhaps that step on her lover's part had been
the cause of Miss Ashurst's determination.
No! on reflection, the enlisting, if he ever
did enlist, looked like a desperate act on
Joyce's part, done in despair at hearing the
news of Marian's intended marriage! Mr.
Benthall did not pin much faith to the enlisting
part of the story. He had heard a good
deal about Joyce from various sources, and
he felt confident that he was by no means
the kind of man who would be led to the
perpetration of any folly of the kind. Mr.
Benthall was puzzled. With any other two
people he could have understood the hand-
in-hand, and the arm-encircled waist, as
meaning nothing more than a pleasant
means of employing the time, meaning
nothing, and to be forgotten by both persons
when they might chance to be separated.
But Mr. Joyce and Miss Ashurst were so
essentially earnest and practical, and so
utterly unlikely to disport themselves in
the manner described without there had
been a sincere attachment between them,
that, taking all this into consideration in
conjunction with the recent marriage, Mr.
Benthall came to the conclusion that either
Mrs. Covey must have, unintentionally of
course, deceived herself and him, or that
there was something remarkably peculiar
in the conduct of Miss Ashurst, something
more peculiar than pleasant or estimable.
He wondered whether Gertrude or Maud
had any suspicions on the matter. They
had neither of them ever spoken to him on
the subject, but then Maud generally left
him alone with Gertrude, and when he and
Gertrude were together, they had other
things than other people's love-affairs to
talk about. He had not been up to
Woolgreaves since the wedding, had not—which
was quite a different matter—seen either of
the girls. He would ride over there the
next afternoon, and see how matters
progressed.

Accordingly the next day, while Maud
and Gertrude were walking in the garden
and discussing Mrs. Creswell's newly-arrived
letter, or rather while Maud was commenting
on it, and Gertrude, as usual, was
chorusing her assent to all her sister said,
they saw Mr. Benthall, at the far end of a
long turf walk, making towards them.
Immediately on recognising the visitor Maud
stopped talking, and looked suddenly round
at Gertrude, who, of course, blushed a very
lively crimson, and said, "Oh, Maud, I wish
you wouldn't!"

"Wish I wouldn't what, Gertrude?"

"Make me so hot and uncomfortable!"

"My dear, I don't make you hot and
uncomfortable! 'We have been talking
together for the last half-hour perfectly
quietly, when suddenly—why, of course
it's impossible for me to say—you blush to
the roots of your hair, and accuse me of
being the cause!"

"No; but, Maud, you don't mind his
coming?"

"No indeed, Gertrude, I like him, if you
mean Mr. Benthall, as of course you do, very
much; and if you and he are both really in
earnest, I think that you would——Here
he is!"

"Good-day, ladies!" said Mr. Benthall,
advancing with a bow. "I haven't seen
you since you were left deserted and forlorn,
so I thought I would come over and ask
what news of the happy couple."

"They will be back at the end of the
week; we heard from Mrs. Creswell this
morning."

"Ah, ha, from the blushing bride! And
how is the blushing bride, and what does
she say?"

"She makes herself rather more odious
and disagreeable than ever!" said Gertrude.
"Oh, I don't mind, Maud! Geo—Mr.
Benthall knows precisely what I feel about
Miss Ashurst and her 'superior' ways and
manners and nonsense!"

"What has she done now?"

"Oh, she has—no, Maud, I will speak!
She has written to say that Maud must
give up her music-room, you know where
she always sits and practises, and where
she's happier than anywhere else in the
house, because my lady wants it for a
boudoir, or something, where she can show off
her 'superiority,' I suppose."

"Of course," said Maud, "Mrs. Creswell
has a perfect right to——"

"O, bother!" said Gertrude;" of course
it's perfectly disgusting! Don't you think
so, Mr. Benthall?"

"That's a home question," said Mr.
Benthall, with a laugh; "but it is scarcely in
good taste of Mrs. Creswell so soon to ——"