hat I couldn't stop you sooner; but pray do not speak of
it again."

"It is a little sudden, but what is a man to do? If you will only
think of it--"

"I can't think of it at all. There is no need for thinking. Really,
Mr. Spooner, I can't go on with you. If you wouldn't mind turning
back I'll walk into the village by myself." Mr. Spooner, however, did
not seem inclined to obey this injunction, and stood his ground, and,
when she moved on, walked on beside her. "I must insist on being left
alone," she said.

"I haven't done anything out of the way," said the lover.

"I think it's very much out of the way. I have hardly ever spoken to
you before. If you will only leave me now there shall not be a word
more said about it."

But Mr. Spooner was a man of spirit. "I'm not in the least ashamed of
what I've done," he said.

"But you might as well go away, when it can't be of any use."

"I don't know why it shouldn't be of use. Miss Palliser, I'm a man of
good property. My great-great-grandfather lived at Spoon Hall, and
we've been there ever since. My mother was one of the Platters of
Platter House. I don't see that I've done anything out of the way. As
for shilly-shallying, and hanging about, I never knew any good come
from it. Don't let us quarrel, Miss Palliser. Say that you'll take a
week to think of it."

"But I won't think of it at all; and I won't go on walking with you.
If you'll go one way, Mr. Spooner, I'll go the other."

Then Mr. Spooner waxed angry. "Why am I to be treated with disdain?"
he said.

"I don't want to treat you with disdain. I only want you to go away."

"You seem to think that I'm something,--something altogether beneath
you."

And so in truth she did. Miss Palliser had never analysed her own
feelings and emotions about the Spooners whom she met in society; but
she probably conceived that there were people in the world who, from
certain accidents, were accustomed to sit at dinner with her, but
who were no more fitted for her intimacy than were the servants who
waited upon her. Such people were to her little more than the tables
and chairs with which she was brought in contact. They were persons
with whom it seemed to her to be impossible that she should have
anything in common,--who were her inferiors, as completely as were
the menials around her. Why she should thus despise Mr. Spooner,
while in her heart of hearts she loved Gerard Maule, it would be
difficult to explain. It was not