ail train was known, and
Miss Lang had sent a polite note to invite him to afternoon tea on the
Sunday. The church to which he had been for many years devoted was a
district one, and Miss Lang's establishment had their places in the old
parish church, so there was not much chance of meeting in the morning,
though one pupil observed to another that 'she should think him a beast
if they did not meet him on the way to church.'

It is to be feared that she had to form this opinion, but on the other
hand, by the early dinner-time, tidings pervaded the school that Lord
Northmoor had been at St. Basil's, and sung in his surplice just as if
nothing had happened! The more sensational party of girls further
averred that he had been base enough to walk thither with Miss Burford,
and that Miss Marshall had been crying all church time. Whether this was
true or not, it was certain that she ate scarcely any dinner, and that
Miss Lang insisted on administering a glass of wine.

Moreover, when dinner was finally over, she quietly crept up to her own
room, and resumed her church-going bonnet--a little black net, with a
long-enduring bunch of violets. Then she knelt down and entreated, 'Oh,
show me Thy will, and give me strength and judgment to do that which may
be best for him, and may neither of us be beguiled by the world or by
ambition.'

Then she peeped out to make sure that the coast was clear--not that she
was not quite free to go where she pleased, but she dreaded eyes and
titters--out at the door, to the corner of the lane where for many a
Sunday afternoon there had been a quiet tryste and walk. Her heart beat
so as almost to choke her, and she hardly durst raise her eyes to see if
the accustomed figure awaited her. Was it the accustomed figure? Her
eyes dazzled so under her little holland parasol that she could hardly
see, and though there was a movement towards her, she felt unable to look
up till she heard the words, 'Mary, at last!' and felt the clasp of the
hand.

'Oh, Frank--I mean--'

'You mean Frank, your own Frank; nothing else to you.'

'Ought you?' And as she murmured she looked up. It was the same, but
still a certain change was there, almost indescribable, but still to be
felt, as if a line of toil and weariness had passed from the cheek. The
quiet gray eyes were brighter and more eager, the bearing as if ten years
had been taken from the forty, and though Mary did not perceive the
details, the dress