ess for
yourself?"

"Very likely."

"Oh, Mary, do not be so cold with me! you know how delighted I should
be to have you for a sister-in-law, if only it were possible."

"Yes, Trichy; but it is impossible, is it not? Impossible that
Francis Gresham of Greshamsbury should disgrace himself by marrying
such a poor creature as I am. Of course, I know it; of course, I am
prepared for unhappiness and misery. He can amuse himself as he likes
with me or others--with anybody. It is his privilege. It is quite
enough to say that he is not made for settling down. I know my own
position;--and yet I love him."

"But, Mary, has he asked you to be his wife? If so--"

"You ask home-questions, Beatrice. Let me ask you one; has he ever
told you that he has done so?"

At this moment Beatrice was not disposed to repeat all that Frank had
said. A year ago, before he went away, he had told his sister a score
of times that he meant to marry Mary Thorne if she would have him;
but Beatrice now looked on all that as idle, boyish vapouring. The
pity was, that Mary should have looked on it differently.

"We will each keep our secret," said Mary. "Only remember this:
should Frank marry to-morrow, I shall have no ground for blaming him.
He is free as far I as am concerned. He can take the London lady if
he likes. You may tell him so from me. But, Trichy, what else I have
told you, I have told you only."

"Oh, yes!" said Beatrice, sadly; "I shall say nothing of it to
anybody. It is very sad, very, very; I was so happy when I came here,
and now I am so wretched." This was the end of that delicious talk to
which she had looked forward with so much eagerness.

"Don't be wretched about me, dearest; I shall get through it. I
sometimes think I was born to be unhappy, and that unhappiness agrees
with me best. Kiss me now, Trichy, and don't be wretched any more.
You owe it to Mr Oriel to be as happy as the day is long."

And then they parted.

Beatrice, as she went out, saw Dr Thorne in his little shop on the
right-hand side of the passage, deeply engaged in some derogatory
branch of an apothecary's mechanical trade; mixing a dose, perhaps,
for a little child. She would have passed him without speaking if she
could have been sure of doing so without notice, for her heart was
full, and her eyes were red with tears; but it was so long since she
had been in his house that she was more than ordinarily anxious not
to appear uncourteous or unkind to