upon their lips they entered to
breakfast.

Tuesday came, but no message from Mrs. Charmond. Nor was there any on
Wednesday. In brief, a fortnight slipped by without a sign, and it
looked suspiciously as if Mrs. Charmond were not going further in the
direction of "taking up" Grace at present.

Her father reasoned thereon. Immediately after his daughter's two
indubitable successes with Mrs. Charmond--the interview in the wood and
a visit to the House--she had attended Winterborne's party. No doubt
the out-and-out joviality of that gathering had made it a topic in the
neighborhood, and that every one present as guests had been widely
spoken of--Grace, with her exceptional qualities, above all. What,
then, so natural as that Mrs. Charmond should have heard the village
news, and become quite disappointed in her expectations of Grace at
finding she kept such company?

Full of this post hoc argument, Mr. Melbury overlooked the infinite
throng of other possible reasons and unreasons for a woman changing her
mind. For instance, while knowing that his Grace was attractive, he
quite forgot that Mrs. Charmond had also great pretensions to beauty.
In his simple estimate, an attractive woman attracted all around.

So it was settled in his mind that her sudden mingling with the
villagers at the unlucky Winterborne's was the cause of her most
grievous loss, as he deemed it, in the direction of Hintock House.

"'Tis a thousand pities!" he would repeat to himself. "I am ruining
her for conscience' sake!"

It was one morning later on, while these things were agitating his
mind, that, curiously enough, something darkened the window just as
they finished breakfast. Looking up, they saw Giles in person mounted
on horseback, and straining his neck forward, as he had been doing for
some time, to catch their attention through the window. Grace had been
the first to see him, and involuntarily exclaimed, "There he is--and a
new horse!"

On their faces as they regarded Giles were written their suspended
thoughts and compound feelings concerning him, could he have read them
through those old panes. But he saw nothing: his features just now
were, for a wonder, lit up with a red smile at some other idea. So
they rose from breakfast and went to the door, Grace with an anxious,
wistful manner, her father in a reverie, Mrs. Melbury placid and
inquiring. "We have come out to look at your horse," she said.

It could be seen that he