to me?"

Then, as Lady Betty began to raise her voice, Griselda turned to Sir
Maxwell, who was finding his position uneasy, for his joints were not as
supple as they had been twenty years before:

"Sir Maxwell Danby," she said, her voice trembling, in spite of every
effort she made to control it, "I thank you for the honour you do me,
but I decline to accept the proposal you make me."

"She only means to put you off, Sir Maxwell; she will think better of
it--she _shall_ think better of it."

"Nothing will change my purpose--nothing _can_ change it." Then, though
it seemed almost sacrilege to bring to light what lay like a fount of
hidden joy in her heart, she looked steadily into the face of the
world-worn man, who quailed before the clear glance of those young pure
eyes. "Nothing can change my purpose, sir; and for this reason--I am
pledged to another."

"Ha! ha!" broke out almost involuntarily from Sir Maxwell "I understand.
Lady Betty, let me warn you that this fair lady is in some danger from
designing folk, who frequent the lowest purlieus of the city. I warn
you; and now"--with a low bow--"I take my leave." And casting a Parthian
arrow behind as he made another low bow at the door, he said: "And unless
you receive my warning in good part, you will see cause to repent it. It
may be you will have to repent it through _another_."

Griselda's face blanched with fear as she turned to Lady Betty:

"Tell me," she exclaimed, "what that bad man has been saying of--of me,
and of another!"

"Saying! That you have misbehaved yourself, miss; and that you have been
taken to Crown Alley by that canting hypocrite whom I detest. Speak to
him again, and you leave this house. _Dare_ to refuse Sir Maxwell
Danby's offer, and I cast you off. You had better take care, for your
poor mother disgraced herself, and----"

"Stop!" Griselda said; "not a word about my mother. I will not hear it.
But, Aunt Betty, I will not listen to the proposal made me by Sir
Maxwell Danby. I would not, as I have told you, marry him were there no
other man in the world; but, as it is," she said proudly, the fire of
her eyes being suddenly dimmed with the mist of gentle tears--"as it is,
I am the promised wife of Mr. Leslie Travers. He will see you to-morrow
on this matter, and----"

"I will not see him. You shall marry Sir Maxwell; he has a fine fortune,
and a fine place. You are mad; you are an idiot--a fool! Go to your
room, miss, and keep out of