that sooner or later he will
be your husband. Now we will go up to Janet, who will begin to think
herself a Penelope, if we desert her much longer."

Immediately after this Mary went up to dress for dinner. Should she
make up her mind to give way, and put on the blue ribbons which he
loved so well? She thought that she could tell him at once, if she
made up her mind in that direction. It would not, perhaps, be very
maidenly, but anything would be better than suspense,--than torment
to him. Then she took out her blue ribbons, and tried to go through
that ceremony of telling him. It was quite impossible. Were she to do
so, she would know no happiness again in this world, or probably in
the other. To do the thing, it would be necessary that she should lie
to him.

She came down in a simple white dress, without any ribbons, in
just the dress which she would have worn had Mr. Gilmore not been
coming. At dinner they were very merry. The word of command had gone
forth from Frank that Mary was to be forgiven, and Janet of course
obeyed. The usual courtesies of society demand that there shall be
civility--almost flattering civility--from host to guest, and from
guest to host; and yet how often does it occur that in the midst
of these courtesies there is something that tells of hatred, of
ridicule, or of scorn! How often does it happen that the guest knows
that he is disliked, or the host knows that he is a bore! In the last
two days Mary had felt that she was not cordially a welcome guest.
She had felt also that the reason was one against which she could not
contend. Now all that, at least, was over. Frank Fenwick's manner had
never been pleasanter to her than it was on this occasion, and Janet
followed the suit which her lord led.

They were again on the lawn between eight and nine o'clock when Harry
Gilmore came up to them. He was gracious enough in his salutation to
Mary Lowther, but no indifferent person would have thought that he
was her lover. He talked chiefly to Fenwick, and when they went in to
tea did not take a place on the sofa beside Mary. But after a while
he said something which told them all of his love.

"What do you think I've been doing to-day, Frank?"

"Getting your wheat down, I should hope."

"We begin that to-morrow. I never like to be quite the earliest at
that work, or yet the latest."

"Better be a day too early than a day too late, Harry."

"Never mind about that. I've been down with old Brat