her increased tenfold, his embarrassment
and shyness increased tenfold as well. She
herself saw it at last, and scolded Ralph
soundly, for she was a free-spoken, free-
hearted girl, and hated mysteries and
misunderstandings. She told Ralph once, that if
he was dissatisfied with her, and spoke to
her in that ridiculous way—why she wasn't
an eastern princess!—he had better go; for
she hated people to be unhappy because of
her, and what had she done to make him so
cool and reserved? A speech which made
Ralph cry as if his heart was breaking; partly
from distress at having offended her, and
partly from gratitude at her condescension in
taking any notice of his manners at all. At
which Miss Letty said, she thought he must
be really half an idiot—Ralph looking as
delighted as if she had called him an angel—
for how could people have been brought up
together without getting fond of each other,
and had they not been good friends all
their lives? so why shouldn't she care for
him like her own brother now? Which was
such a pleasant ending to their quarrel, that
Ralph had no sleep all night in consequence.

About this time Mr. Temple took it into
his head that Ralph Jessett should
"commence a career of usefulness." He had his
choice of every profession under the sun,
said the squire; but choose one he must.
So Ralph, after a great deal of hesitation,
chose that of an analytical chemist, which,
at least, was a branch of natural science,
he said. People laughed at the notion
of such an awkward fellow ever making
delicate experiments. "Why he would be
frightened at his own chemicals," they all
said; but Ralph blushed and fidgetted, and
told them he should get over that,
perhaps, if it were necessary; at any rate
he would try. Good Mrs. Temple aided
him in the way he was going as usual; and
Miss Letty, too, said he was right to obey
papa, and do as he told him; but she cried
when the time came for him to go, and
pouted a great deal. Ralph went almost
beside himself at the sight of her tears, and
was nearly giving up the plan, and bearding
Mr. Temple in his den—the library—in a
fit of enthusiastic rebellion, had he not been
afraid of Mrs. Temple, who fortunately was
in the room at the moment. But it was
dreadful. He used to wonder afterwards at
his own firmness, and always felt like a
murderer whenever he thought that he had once
made Miss Letty cry. However, Letty dried
her eyes, which began to smart, and old
Ralph went away to a chemist's in
Edinburgh; and in a short time Miss Letty grew
accustomed to his absence, and gradually
reorganised her life without him. For she was
not a very reflective young lady; nor one
whose affections went much beyond the limit
of her vision. A joyous, red-lipped, white-
armed girl, life was all before her, and
pleasure for the present, hope for the
future, but no regret for the past, bound her
in a silver chain, strung through with flowers.
So, while Ralph studied the properties of
gases, and dreamed of Miss Letty by turns,
the foot-prints of the past were being slowly
effaced from that young lady's heart by the
rising waves of new associations.

Miss Letty went a visiting. To the
Delaforces, of Delaforce House,—an old French
emigrant family, which, by intermarriage
with English heiresses, had gradually raised
themselves to opulence and consideration.
There was one son now in the family, a young
man just of age, owning a dog-cart and a pair
of moustachios. There was also a daughter of
Letty's own age; who, as often chances with
sisters possessing handsome brothers, was
the especial darling of all the young ladies in
the place, and chief of all with Letty Temple,
the heiress of Manor House. When Letty
went, she was gay; when Letty came back,
she was dull. Her father and mother both
saw the change, and asked the reason; but
Letty pouted or laughed, according to her
humour, and refused to give any. "There
was none," she said, "it was all papa's
fancy;" and then she ran away down into
the shrubbery at the end of the garden, where
she had half-a-dozen hiding-places no one
but Ralph and herself knew of; and there
they were obliged to leave her, till she chose
to emerge of her own accord. And as in a
short time she forgot to be quite so dull
as when she first came home, and as she
looked well, and eat well, and slept well, and
was only rather cross at times, her father and
mother ceased to ask her any questions on
the subject, or, indeed, to think of her changed
manner at all. Mrs. Temple only said,
sometimes, "My love, I am sure you are bilious
to-day."

Miss Letty was in love. The reader
knows that, though the squire did not. But
young Mr. Delaforce, who had had a love
in London, had declared to his sister Julia,
that "Miss Temple was not at all his style of
beauty, and that he did not admire her the
least in the world." Which complicated
matters not a little.

In the mean time Ralph came home for a
vacation from his gases and retorts, and soon
Letty and he were on their old terms of
confidence together. Letty told him all that
moved in her world, and he told Letty all
that he thought and felt in his. But as yet
the name of Montague Delaforce had not
been mentioned between them.

"Ralph," said Letty, suddenly. They were
in the arbour together, at the bottom of the
garden; the arbour in the shrubbery, where
the old tomtit's nest used to be, when Letty
was a child. "Ralph, do you think me
pretty?" She did not look merely pretty
when she asked that question, but superbly
handsome.

"Yes," said Ralph, nervously, "I do, Miss
Letty: very pretty," with emphasis.