er,
strolling along the footpath through the meadows in the direction of
Finchale Priory. There were no eavesdroppers; and he, with his arm
linked in hers, repeated the story of his all-conquering love.

She listened in silence, then raising her fine clear eyes to his, said,
"I know, Walter--I know that you love me. And I love you also."

"Ah," he sighed, "if you would only be frank with me, dearest--if you
would only be as frank with me as I am with you!"

Sadly she shook her head, but made no reply. He saw that a shadow had
clouded her brow, that she still clung to her strange secret; and at
length, when they retraced their steps back to the city, he reluctantly
took leave of her, and half-an-hour later was speeding south again
towards York and King's Cross.

The opening day of the partridge season proved bright and pleasant. The
men were out early; and the ladies, a gay party, including Gabrielle,
joined them at luncheon spread on a mossy bank about three miles from
the castle. Several of the male guests were particularly attentive to
the dainty, sweet-faced girl whose charming manner and fresh beauty
attracted them. But Gabrielle's heart was with Walter always. She loved
him. Yes, she told herself so a dozen times each day. And yet was not
the barrier between them insurmountable? Ah, if he only knew! If he only
knew!

The blind man was left alone nearly the whole of that day. His daughter
had wanted to remain with him, but he would not hear of it. "My dear
child," he had said, "you must go out and lunch. You really must assist
your mother in entertaining the people."

"But, dear dad, I much prefer to remain with you and help you," she
protested. "Yesterday the Professor sent you five more bronze matrices
of ecclesiastical seals. We haven't yet examined them."

"We'll do so to-night, dear," he said. "You go out to-day. I'll amuse
myself all right. Perhaps I'll go for a little walk."

Therefore the girl had, against her inclination, joined the
luncheon-party, where foremost of all to have her little attentions was
a rather foppish young stockbroker named Girdlestone, who had been up
there shooting the previous year, and had on that occasion flirted with
her furiously.

During her absence her father tried to resume his knitting--an
occupation which he had long ago been compelled to resort to in order to
employ his time; but he soon put it down with a sigh, rose, and taking
his soft brown felt-hat and stout s