ht in connection with
the intelligence sent him was, the excuse for meeting at the lodge being
over, where or how was he to see Lady Louisa?

VIII.

At the very time Dr. Brunton was thinking of this, the family at the
castle were sitting at breakfast, and the letter-bag came in. As the
earl was looking over the letters he said, "Here's a thick despatch for
you, Loo: open it, and tell me what it is?" She opened it.

"Well?" said her father.

"It is a likeness of the doctor," she said.

"The doctor! what doctor?"

"Oh, Dr. Brunton--he who lives in the village. He has been here several
times, you remember?"

"I remember perfectly. How is his likeness sent to you? who sends it?"

"Himself probably, but I have not read the letter yet."

"Don't read it: hand it to me," he said sternly.

The duchess and Lady Helen were listening to this dialogue, and watching
the rising wrath of their father and the cool, calm bearing of Loo.

The earl read the letter, then rose and flung it and the carte into the
fire. "The man is a vain fool," he said--"a perfect fool!"

"I don't see that, papa. I should have wished to have his likeness: I am
not sure that I did not say so to him. I sometimes meet him in the
cottages of the people about."

"Do you know the kind of insult you have brought upon yourself?"

"I have brought no insult on myself, and I know of none."

"In that letter he asked you to be his wife."

"The thing is not possible," she said, starting from her chair: "he
must be mad. _I_ his wife! Why, he'll want the moon down to put into his
gig-lanterns next."

"If it were not for the laws of the country," said the earl, his face
red with wrath--"if it were not for the laws of the country, I would
shoot that man as I would shoot a partridge."

Lady Louisa rose and left the room: her sister Mary followed her. "Loo,"
she said, "you have been doing wrong."

"Not that I know of, Mary."

"Dr. Brunton would never have written or sent his carte if he had not
been led on to do it somehow."

"He never was led on by me: he may have been by his own vanity; only I
did not think he was so stupid."

"I don't say he was wise, but I say you have been foolish: you have done
a thing you had no right to do."

"I have done nothing. Is it reasonable to blame me because a man wrote a
foolish letter? His vanity is egregious: to think I was going to forget
my rank to marry him! I always gave him credit for more brains."

"Mayb