the
result, I further hope that she and yourself will come to Raby, and that
you will change that way of life which you have found so full of
thorns, and prepare yourself to succeed to my name and place. I am, your
obedient servant,

"GUY RABY."

"There read that."

Amboyne read it, and approved it. Then he gave a sigh, and said, "And so
down goes my poor hobby."

"Oh, never mind," said Raby; "you've got one or two left in your
stable."

Dr. Amboyne went out, and passed through the hall. There he found Mr.
Coventry and Miss Carden: the latter asked him, rather keenly, if the
conference was over.

"Yes, and not without a result: I'll read it to you." He did so, and
Grace's cheek was dyed with blushes, and her eyes beamed with joy.

"Oh, how noble is, and how good you are. Run! Fly!"

"Such movements are undignified, and unsuited to my figure. Shall I roll
down the hill? That would be my quickest way."

This discussion was cut short by a servant, who came to tell the doctor
that a carriage was ordered for him, and would be round in a minute. Dr.
Amboyne drove off, and Miss Carden now avoided Coventry: she retired
to her room. But, it seems, she was on the watch; for, on the doctor's
return, she was the person who met him in the hall.

"Well?" said she, eagerly.

"Well, would you believe it? he declines. He objects to leave his way of
life, and to wait for dead men's shoes."

"Oh, Dr. Amboyne! And you were there to advise him!"

"I did not venture to advise him. There was so much to be said on both
sides." Then he went off to Raby with the note; but, as he went, he
heard Grace say, in a low voice, "Ah, you never thought of me."

Little's note ran thus:

"SIR,--I thank you for your proposal; and as to the first part of it, I
quite agree, and should be glad to see my mother and you friends again.
But, as to my way of life, I have chosen my path, and mean to stick to
it. I hope soon to be a master, instead of a workman, and I shall try
and behave like a gentleman, so that you may not have to blush for me.
Should blush for myself if I were to give up industry and independence,
and take to waiting for dead men's shoes; that is a baser occupation
than any trade in Hillsborough, I think. This is not as politely written
as I could wish; but I am a blunt fellow, and I hope you will excuse
it. I am not ungrateful to you for shooting those vermin, nor for your
offer, though I can not accept it. Yours respectfu