e, Catharine relaxed her
speed, and Griffith rejoined her.

She had already half relented, and only wanted a warm and resolute wooer
to bring her round. But Griffith was too sore, and too little versed in
woman. Full of suspicion and bitterness, he paced gloomy and silent by
her side, till they reached the great avenue that led to her father's
house.

And while he rides alongside the capricious creature in sulky silence, I
may as well reveal a certain foible in his own character.

This Griffith Gaunt was by no means deficient in physical courage; but
he was instinctively disposed to run away from mental pain the moment he
lost hope of driving it away from him. For instance, if Catharine had
been ill and her life in danger, he would have ridden day and night to
save her,--would have beggared himself to save her; but if she had died,
he would either have killed himself, or else fled the country, and so
escaped the sight of every object that was associated with her and could
agonize him. I do not think he could have attended the funeral of one he
loved.

The mind, as well as the body, has its self-protecting instincts. This
of Griffith's was, after all, an instinct of that class, and, under
certain circumstances, is true wisdom. But Griffith, I think, carried
the instinct to excess; and that is why I call it his foible.

"Catharine," said he, resolutely, "let me ride by your side to the house
for once; for I read your advice my own way, and I mean to follow it:
after to-day you will be troubled with me no more. I have loved you
these three years, I have courted you these two years, and I am none the
nearer; I see I am not the man you mean to marry: so I shall do as my
father did, ride down to the coast, and sell my horse, and ship for
foreign parts."

"Oh, as you will," said Catharine, haughtily: she quite forgot she had
just recommended him to do something of this very kind.

Presently she stole a look. His fine ruddy cheek was pale; his manly
brown eyes were moist; yet a gloomy and resolute expression on his
tight-drawn lips. She looked at him sidelong, and thought how often he
had ridden thirty miles on that very mare to get a word with her at the
shrubbery-gate. And now the mare to be sold! The man to go
broken-hearted to sea,--perhaps to his death! Her good heart began to
yearn.

"Griffith," said she, softly, "it is not as if I were going to wed
anybody else. Is it nothing to be preferred by her you say you