nd pair of shoes.

Still it had stood in good stead, for with it she had written all her
letters ever since, and being the only receptacle with lock and key to
which she had access, she had made it a little ark and coffer for
certain girlish treasures. With such it was stuffed so full that they
came crowding out as she opened it. There were several letters to which
romance attached, relics of that delightful but far too short
school-time at Carisbury; there was her programme, with rudely-scribbled
names of partners, for the splendid dance at the term's end, to which a
selection of other girls' brothers were invited; a pressed rose given
her by someone which she had worn in her bosom on that historic
occasion, and many other equally priceless mementoes. Somehow these
things seemed now neither so romantic nor so precious as on former
occasions; she was even inclined to smile, and to make light of them,
and then a little bit of paper fluttered off the table on to the floor.
She stooped and picked up the flap of an envelope with the coronet and
"Fording" stamped in black upon it which she had found one day when
Westray's waste-paper basket was emptied. It was a simple device
enough, but it must have furnished her food for thought, for it lay
under her eyes on the table for at least ten minutes before she put it
carefully back into the _papeterie_, and began her letter to Westray.

She found no difficulty in answering, but the interval of reflection had
soothed her irritation, and blunted her animosity. Her reply was
neither brusque nor rude, it leant rather to conventionalism than to
originality, and she used, after all, those phrases which have been
commonplaces in such circumstances, since man first asked and woman
first refused. She thanked Mr Westray for the kind interest which he
had taken in her, she was deeply conscious of the consideration which he
had shown her. She was grieved--sincerely grieved--to tell him that
things could not be as he wished. She was so afraid that her letter
would seem unkind; she did not mean it to be unkind. However difficult
it was to say it now, she thought it was the truest kindness not to
disguise from him that things _never_ could be as he wished. She paused
a little to review this last sentiment, but she allowed it to remain,
for she was anxious to avoid any recrudescence of the suppliant's
passion, and to show that her decision was final. She should always
feel the greate