ee it, for it showed that
John Short had more heart than she had imagined.

"I can fancy that," she said, warmly. "I envy you that moment."

Presently the squire came over to where they were sitting and joined
them; and then Mrs. Ambrose spoke to John, and Nellie came and asked him
questions. Strange to say John felt none of that annoyance which he
formerly felt when his conversations with Mrs. Goddard were interrupted,
and he talked with Nellie and Mrs. Ambrose quite as readily as with her.
He felt very calm and happy that night, as though he had done with the
hard labour of life. In half an hour he had realised that he was no more
in love with Mrs. Goddard than he was with Mrs. Ambrose, and he was
trying to explain to himself how it was that he had ever believed in such
a palpable absurdity. Love was doubtless blind, he thought, but he was
surely not so blind as to overlook the evidences of Mrs. Goddard's age.
All the dreams of that morning faded away before the sight of her face,
and so deep is the turpitude of the best of human hearts that John was
almost ashamed of having once thought he loved her. That was probably the
best possible proof that his love had been but a boyish fancy.

What the little party at the vicarage would have been like, if John's
presence had not animated it, would be hard to say. The squire and Mr.
Ambrose treated Mrs. Goddard with the sort of paternal but solemn care
which is usually bestowed either upon great invalids or upon persons
bereaved of some very dear relation. The two elder men occasionally
looked at her and exchanged glances when they were not observed by Mrs.
Ambrose, wondering perhaps what would next befall the unfortunate lady
and whether she could bear much more of the excitement and anxiety to
which she had of late been subjected. On the whole the conversation was
far from being lively, and Mrs. Goddard herself felt that it was a relief
when the hour came for going home.

The vicar had ordered his dog-cart for her and Nellie, but as the night
had turned out better than had been expected Mr. Juxon's groom had not
come down from the Hall. Both he and John would be glad of the walk; it
had not rained for two days and the roads were dry.

"Look here," said the squire, as they rose to take their leave, "Mr.
Short had better go as far as the cottage in the dog-cart, to see Mrs.
Goddard home. I will go ahead on foot--I shall probably be there as soon
as you. There is not room f