hocked when I heard at dinner that Nathan was sold to
Sir Francis. But the day had been full of joy; and when all its
festivities were over, and we drove home from the ball, it seemed as if
no cloud hung over me.

"The Burtons went to the barn to care for the horses, and I was alone
with Lillie by the great table. I asked her very simply if she would be
my wife, and she told me that I asked in vain.

"'Even if I loved you, Mr. Erle,' she went on,--'even if I loved you, I
could not be your wife. You are a gentleman, and I am a farmer's
daughter; and you know even better than I do that we could not be happy
very long. You will be glad some day that I did not lead you into such
sore trial.'

"Some such words as these were the last words I ever heard from Lillie
Burton's mouth, for the men came in, and she left the room; and as she
passed me that night, dressed in a gown of softest white, her exquisite
head bent in sorrow and tenderness, her eyes radiant through their
tears, I saw her for the last time. We have never met, even for an
instant, since."

* * * * *

Mr. Erle ceased speaking, and I gave a great sigh of relief. His last
words had been uttered with so much feeling that neither my grandfather
nor I could interrupt the long silence, as he sat looking dreamily into
the fire. When at length he spoke, it was of an entirely different
subject, and, after half an hour's conversation, he drank a last glass
of the old wine, and bade us good night, wringing my grandfather's hand
with more than usual warmth.

I waited almost impatiently until I heard the house-door close, and
then, "Who is Mrs. Erle?" I asked.

"Who do you suppose?" my grandfather answered.

"No one. How should I?"

"And yet you heard Mr. Erle tell the part about the Countess?"

"Yes."

"And you do not guess what happened?"

"No. I dare say I am very stupid; but do tell me," I begged.

"Well, then, my dear, the morning after the races, Erle went to the
castle, and the Countess was very kind, as great ladies often are, and
he stayed for a week, since she pressed the matter so; and then there
was an excursion into Wales, where most untoward things occurred, and
the grand finale was a wedding at Lord West's in London."

"Then he married Miss Ferrers!" I exclaimed.

"Yes, my dear, even so. You have never seen the lady, I believe?"

"No, never. Is anything the matter with her?"

"Anything the matter with her? Ye