ection as mine, perhaps," said Blake.

"Then think of the difficulty. Do you suppose that any second Miss
Forrester would dream of going to the diamond-fields with me?"

"Perhaps not," said Blake. "Not a second Miss Forrester--but somebody
else."

"Something inferior?"

"Well--yes; inferior to my Miss Forrester, certainly."

"You are the most conceited young man that I ever came across," said
the young lady herself.

"And I am not inclined to put up with anything that is very
inferior," said John Gordon. He could not help his eye from glancing
for a moment round upon Mary Lawrie. She was aware of it, though no
one else noticed it in the room. She was aware of it, though any one
watching her would have said that she had never looked at him.

"A man may always find a woman to suit him, if he looks well
about him," said Mr Hall, sententiously. "Don't you think so,
Whittlestaff?"

"I dare say he may," said Mr Whittlestaff, very flatly. And as he
said so he made up his mind that he would, for that day, postpone the
task of telling Mr Hall of his intended marriage.

The evening passed by, and the time came for Mr Whittlestaff to
drive Miss Lawrie back to Croker's Hall. She had certainly spent a
most uneventful period, as far as action or even words of her own was
concerned. But the afternoon was one which she would never forget.
She had been quite, quite sure, when she came into the house; but she
was more than sure now. At every word that had been spoken she had
thought of herself and of him. Would he not have known how to have
chosen a fit companion,--only for this great misfortune? And would
she have been so much inferior to Miss Forrester? Would he have
thought her inferior to any one? Would he not have preferred her to
any other female whom the world had at the present moment produced?
Oh, the pity of it; the pity of it!

Then came the bidding of adieu. Gordon was to sleep at Little
Alresford that night, and to take his departure by early train on the
next morning. Of the adieux spoken the next morning we need take no
notice, but only of the word or two uttered that night. "Good-bye,
Mr Gordon," said Mr Whittlestaff, having taken courage for the
occasion, and having thought even of the necessary syllables to be
spoken.

"Good-bye, Mr Whittlestaff," and he gave his rival his hand in
apparently friendly grasp. To those burning questions he had asked he
had received no word of reply; but they were questions w