d window, and gazing at
the ruined portion of the abbey. The air outside was frosty and clear,
and though the moon as yet was only faintly yellow, every arch and
cloister was clearly visible. Paul gazed down at them, as he had done
all his life, with reverent eyes. There was something almost awesome
in the graceful yet bold outline, and in the great age of those
rugged, moss-grown pillars and arches, so ecclesiastical in their
shape and suggestiveness,--as indeed they might well be, for they were
practically the ruins of the old monastery chapel. But, as he looked,
the expression in his eyes suddenly changed. A dark figure had passed
slowly out from the shadow of the arches, and stood looking up towards
the house, rigid, solemn, and motionless. Paul covered his face with
his hands, and sank down upon the cushioned window-sill.

CHAPTER VI

"AN ASHEN GREY DELIGHT"

"Mr. de Vaux!"

Paul turned quickly around in his saddle towards the young lady who
had addressed him. He looked into a fair, thoughtful face, whose
general amiability was discounted, just then, by a decided frown.

"I beg your pardon, Lady May! Didn't you say something just now?"

"Didn't I say something just now!" she repeated, with fine scorn.
"Upon my word, Mr. de Vaux, I think that you must have left your wits
in London! What is the matter with you?"

"The matter! Why, nothing! I'm sorry----"

"Oh! pray don't apologise!" she interrupted hastily. "I think I'll
ride on and catch papa up."

He laid his hand upon her rein. "Please don't, Lady May," he begged.
"I know I've been inattentive! I'm very sorry--really I am. Let me try
and make up for it!"

She looked into his face, and she was mollified. He was evidently in
earnest.

"Oh! very well," she said. "You mustn't think that I complained
without due cause, though, for I spoke to you three times before you
answered me. Oh, it's all right," she went on, as he commenced to
frame another apology. "I don't mind now, but I really should like to
know what is the matter with you. You have ridden all day like a man
who valued neither his own life nor his horse's. Some of your jumps
were simply reckless! I have heard other people say so, too! I like
bold riding, but there is a limit; and though I've ridden two hounds
since papa gave me my first pony, I've never seen any one try to jump
Annisforth brook below the bridge, before,--and don't want to again,"
she added, with a little shudder. "I kn