of Maud's desire to see her aunt being
gratified, unless Lady Tallis should come
to Shipley-in-the-Wold.

Once Maud had said a few words to
Veronica on the subject.

"I can understand plainly," said she,
"that poor Aunt Hilda is very harshly
treated, and very much to be pitied.
During dear mamma's life-time, I was, of
course, too mere a child to know anything
about it. I remember once, Aunt Hilda
came to see mamma; and she cried and
talked very excitedly, and mamma sent me
out of the room."

"I think," answered Veronica, "that
Lady Tallis's history may be summed up
in a few words. She was good-natured
and weak. Her husband was bad-natured
and strong. Ecco!"

"But I wonder why he does not love
her! Aunt Hilda had beauty and gentle
birth and a kind sweet nature."

"I believe, Maud, that men love what
amuses them. Now it is possible to be
handsome, and well-born, and good-natured,
and yet to bore people to death."

When, during the first day of her stay
at Lowater House, Maud discovered that
Mr. Lockwood knew her aunt, she asked
him many questions about her.

"I am unfortunately not able to tell you
as much of Lady Tallis as my mother would
be," answered Hugh Lockwood.

"Mrs. Lockwood and my aunt were quite
intimate, were they not?"

"They lived in the same boarding house
at Torquay for some time. My mother
was an invalid, and had been advised to go
to Devonshire for the winter. Lady Tallis
was there alone; so was my mother; and
they found each other's society more
congenial than that of the rest of the people
in the house."

"And Aunt Hilda was quite alone?"

"Quite alone. At first we supposed her
to be a widow; but after a short time she
became very confidential with my mother,
and explained that her husband was still
living, but that—that—her marriage was
not a fortunate or happy one. You must
understand, Miss Desmond," proceeded
Hugh, seeing Maud's countenance fall, and
the colour flush into her cheek, "that Lady
Tallis volunteered this statement. My
mother, however, has a singular power of
winning confidence. It has more than once
happened to her to receive the most curious
particulars of their private history, from
almost total strangers. I think that if you
knew her, you would not distrust her."

"I never distrust people," answered
Maud, looking up candidly into his face.
Then a thought came into her mind, and
she added hastily, "Not quite, never; of
course I am bound in conscience to own
that there are some faces, and especially
some voices, which inspire me with
distrust; perhaps unjustly."

She was sitting alone with her hostess
next evening before dinner. The twilight
still struggled with the blaze of the fire.
It was that peaceful hour between day and
night, when old people are apt to dream of
the past, and young people of the future.

"Maud," said Mrs. Sheardown, "do you
know when your guardian's guest is to
take his departure?"

"Not certainly. As soon as he was well
enough to travel, he said, when I left the
vicarage. That is vague, of course. But
I should think he might go by this time."

"That sounds a little like 'I wish he
would go.'"

"Does it?"

"You don't like this Sir John Gale,
Maud. Have you any reason for not liking
him, or has he one of those faces or voices
which inspire you with distrust? I'll
make a confession, Maud. I have a strange
distrust of this man, and with less excuse
than you; for I have never spoken to, nor
even seen, him. It is one of what I call
my presentiments, and what Tom calls my
unreasonable feminine prejudices! I wish
the man were fairly away out of the vicarage.
Does Mr. Levincourt like him?"

"Very much. Uncle Charles finds him
amusing, and able to talk upon subjects
which my guardian seldom has an
opportunity of discussing."

"And Miss Levincourt—does she like
him too?"

"Oh——Yes: I think so."

"That he admires her, is a matter of
course. She is very handsome."

"Veronica has the most beautiful face I
know."

"Yes, she is strikingly handsome. Our
young friend, Hugh Lockwood, was quite
captivated by her beauty the other evening."

"Yes."

"I warned him not to burn his wings,
for I do not think a poor man would have
much chance with Miss Levincourt."

"N—no—I don't know."

"I don't say that she would be deliberately
mercenary—only—only I don't think
she would happen to fall in love with a
poor man."