o
simple ways of living, calm religion, true friendships. Every good old
sentiment will be gauged by money, will finally vanish before money, and
what the busy world calls 'improvements.' It makes him fretful, jealous,
and unhappy."

"That is just the trouble, Charlotte. When a man has not the spirit of
his age, he has all its unhappiness. But my greatest fear is, that you
will grow weary of waiting for _our hour_."

"I have told you that I shall not. There is an old proverb which says,
'Trust not the man who promises with an oath.' Is not my simple word,
then, the best and the surest hope?"

Then she nestled close to his side, and began to talk of his plans and
his journey, and to anticipate the time when he would break ground upon
Silver Beck, and build the many-windowed factory that had been his dream
ever since he had began to plan his own career. The wind rose, the rain
fell in a down-pour before they reached the park-gates; but there was a
certain joy in facing the wet breeze, and although they did not loiter,
yet neither did they hurry. In both their hearts there was a little fear
of the squire, but neither spoke of it. Charlotte would not suppose or
suggest any necessity for avoiding him, and Steve was equally sensitive
on the subject.

When they arrived at Seat-Sandal the main entrance was closed, and
Stephen stood with her on the threshold until a man-servant opened
slowly its ponderous panels. There was a bright fire burning in the
hall, and lights were in the sconces on the walls. Charlotte asked Steve
to come in and rest a while. She tried to avoid showing either fear or
hurry, and Steve was conscious of the same effort on his own part; but
yet he knew that they both thought it well none of the family were aware
of her return, or of his presence. She watched him descend the dripping
steps into the darkness, and then went towards the fire. An unusual
silence was in the house. She stood upon the hearthstone while the
servant rebolted the door, and then asked,--

"Is dinner served, Noel?"

"It be over, Miss Charlotte."

So she went to her own room. It was chilly and dreary. The fire had been
allowed to die down, and had only just been replenished. It was smoking
also, and the candles on her toilet-table burned dimly in the damp
atmosphere. She hurriedly changed her gown, and was going down-stairs,
when a movement in Sophia's room arrested her attention. It was very
unusual for Sophia to be up-stairs a