spect you
like him yourself; oh, that tell tale blush, how it becomes you."

"I think," said Ethelind, "any one would colour at such an
accusation."

"Well then, to be honest, I have no heart to give."

"No heart to give! surely you are not engaged, and act thus?"

"I am, indeed."

"Cruel, heartless Beatrice," said Ethelind, "you cannot mean what you
say."

"I do most solemnly affirm it; but I will tell you all bye and bye:
now I cannot. I am smarting too much under you severe philippic, you
shall indeed know all,--but," said the thoughtless girl, "let us go
home, as your mother will be waiting tea, and Mr. Barclay with her."

"How can you face one you have so injured," said Ethelind, "I could
not."

"When you see a little more of the world, you will call these little
flirtations very venial errors."

"I hope," said Ethelind, "I shall never call _wrong right_, or _right
wrong_; neither, I trust, shall I ever act as if I thought so."

They reached home, and found tea ready, but Mr. Barclay was not there,
nor did he visit them that evening, but about eight o'clock Mrs.
Fortescue received a note, begging her to excuse him, as he had so
much to attend to, preparatory to the family coming to the Park.

They saw no more of him during the week. On Sunday, he looked,
Ethelind thought, very pale. Coming out of church he spoke to her
mother, and she thought there was a tremor in his voice as he spoke,
as if concealing some internal emotion. They made many conjectures as
to the cause of this extraordinary conduct, but both Mrs. Fortescue
and Ethelind felt certain there must be some good reason, as caprice
had, never since they had known him, formed any part of his conduct;
they were, therefore, obliged to come to the conclusion, that if they
knew it, they would find he had good reason for his conduct.

To Ethelind, when he met her alone, his manner was friendly as ever,
but she fancied he had often avoided them, when she and Beatrice were
together; sometimes she suspected he doubted Beatrice's sincerity. He
sent books and fruit to Mrs. Fortescue, as usual, but rarely went to
the cottage, and if he did, always timed his visits, so as to go when
the younger ladies were out. He would however, saunter home with
Ethelind, if alone, after the duties of the Sunday School, and consult
her on many of his plans; in short, he daily became more like his
former self.

The fact was, that the day on which Beatrice and Ethelind h