with a pained smile at the thought of the incongruity. 'And your papa
said to her, "I am glad to see you so regular at church, JANE."'

'I remember it, but I have never spoken to her. We have only been here
eighteen months, and the parish is so large.'

'Contrast with this,' said Stephen, with a miserable laugh, 'your
father's belief in my "blue blood," which is still prevalent in his
mind. The first night I came, he insisted upon proving my descent from
one of the most ancient west-county families, on account of my
second Christian name; when the truth is, it was given me because my
grandfather was assistant gardener in the Fitzmaurice-Smith family for
thirty years. Having seen your face, my darling, I had not heart to
contradict him, and tell him what would have cut me off from a friendly
knowledge of you.'

She sighed deeply. 'Yes, I see now how this inequality may be made
to trouble us,' she murmured, and continued in a low, sad whisper,
'I wouldn't have minded if they had lived far away. Papa might have
consented to an engagement between us if your connection had been with
villagers a hundred miles off; remoteness softens family contrasts. But
he will not like--O Stephen, Stephen! what can I do?'

'Do?' he said tentatively, yet with heaviness. 'Give me up; let me go
back to London, and think no more of me.'

'No, no; I cannot give you up! This hopelessness in our affairs makes me
care more for you....I see what did not strike me at first. Stephen,
why do we trouble? Why should papa object? An architect in London is an
architect in London. Who inquires there? Nobody. We shall live there,
shall we not? Why need we be so alarmed?'

'And Elfie,' said Stephen, his hopes kindling with hers, 'Knight thinks
nothing of my being only a cottager's son; he says I am as worthy of his
friendship as if I were a lord's; and if I am worthy of his friendship,
I am worthy of you, am I not, Elfride?'

'I not only have never loved anybody but you,' she said, instead of
giving an answer, 'but I have not even formed a strong friendship, such
as you have for Knight. I wish you hadn't. It diminishes me.'

'Now, Elfride, you know better,' he said wooingly. 'And had you really
never any sweetheart at all?'

'None that was ever recognized by me as such.'

'But did nobody ever love you?'

'Yes--a man did once; very much, he said.'

'How long ago?'

'Oh, a long time.'

'How long, dearest?

'A twelvemonth.'

'That's not VERY