different ways, how noble and kind he was, and how dearly she
loved him.

Lord Earle wrote to say that he should be home on the Thursday evening,
and that they were bringing back a party of guests with them.

"There will be no time to tell my father just at present," said Ronald;
"so, Dora, we must keep our secret. It will not do to tell your father
before I tell mine."

They arranged to keep the secret until Lord Earle should be alone
again. They were to meet twice every day--in the early morning, while
the dew lay on the grass, and in the evening, when the Hall would be
full of bustle and gayety.

Ronald felt guilty--he hardly knew how or why--when his father
commiserated him for the two lonely weeks he had spent. Lonely! He had
not felt them so; they had passed all too quickly for him. How many
destinies were settled in that short time!

There was little time for telling his secret to Lord Earle. The few
guests who had returned to Earlescourt were men of note, and their host
devoted himself to their entertainment.

Lady Earle saw some great change in her son. She fancied that he spent
a great deal of time out of doors. She asked him about it, wondering
if he had taken to studying botany, for late and early he never tired
of rambling in the park. She wondered again at the flush that
crimsoned his face; but the time was coming when she would understand
it all.

It is probable that if Ronald at that time had had as much of Dora's
society as he liked, he would soon have discovered his mistake, and no
great harm would have been done; but the foolish romance of foolish
meetings had a charm for him. In those hurried interviews he had only
time to think of Dora's love--he never noted her deficiencies; he was
charmed with her tenderness and grace; her artless affection was so
pretty; the difference between her and those with whom he was
accustomed to talk was so great; her very ignorance had a piquant charm
for him. So they went on to their fate.

One by one Lord Earle's guests departed, yet Ronald had not told his
secret. A new element crept into his love, and urged him on. Walking
one day through the park with his father they overtook Dora's father.
A young man was with him and the two were talking earnestly together,
so earnestly that they never heard the two gentlemen; and in passing by
Ronald distinguished the words, "You give me your daughter, Mr. Thorne,
and trust me to make her happy."

Ronald E