of it, or they would have gone back to the
road. "Don't speak," said the parson, as he walked on quickly with
his wife on his arm. The Marquis stood and scowled; but he had the
breeding of a gentleman, and when Mrs. Fenwick was close to him, he
raised his hat. The parson also raised his, the lady bowed, and then
they passed on without a word. "I had no excuse for doing so, or I
would certainly have told him that Sam Brattle was comfortably at
home with his father," said the parson.

"How you do like a fight, Frank!"

"If it's stand up, and all fair, I don't dislike it."

CHAPTER XX.

I HAVE A JUPITER OF MY OWN NOW.

When Mary Lowther returned home from the last walk with her cousin
that has been mentioned, she was quite determined that she would
not disturb her happiness on that night by the task of telling her
engagement to her aunt. It must, of course, be told, and that at
once; and it must be told also to Parson John; and a letter must be
written to Janet; and another, which would be very difficult in the
writing, to Mr. Gilmore; and she must be prepared to bear a certain
amount of opposition from all her friends; but for the present
moment, she would free herself from these troubles. To-morrow, after
breakfast, she would tell her aunt. To-morrow, at lunch-time, Walter
would come up to the lane as her accepted lover. And then, after
lunch, after due consultation with him and with Aunt Sarah, the
letter should be written.

She had solved, at any rate, one doubt, and had investigated one
mystery. While conscious of her own coldness towards Mr. Gilmore, she
had doubted whether she was capable of loving a man, of loving him as
Janet Fenwick loved her husband. Now she would not admit to herself
that any woman that ever lived adored a man more thoroughly than she
adored Walter Marrable. It was sweet to her to see and to remember
the motions of his body. When walking by his side she could hardly
forbear to touch him with her shoulder. When parting from him it was
a regret to her to take her hand from his. And she told herself that
all this had come to her in the course of one morning's walk, and
wondered at it,--that her heart should be a thing capable of being
given away so quickly. It had, in truth, been given away quickly
enough, though the work had not been done in that one morning's walk.
She had been truly honest, to herself and to others, when she said
that her cousin Walter was and should be a brothe