e. I tried to
steady my voice, and felt how I failed in the effort, as I spoke to her:

"Will you forgive me, Clara, for having deprived you of your ride
to-day? I am afraid I have but a bad excuse--"

"Then don't make it, Basil; or wait till papa can arrange it for you, in
a proper parliamentary way, when he comes back from the House of Commons
to-night. See how I have been meddling with your papers; but they were
in such confusion I was really afraid some of these leaves might have
been lost."

"Neither the leaves nor the writer deserve half the pains you have taken
with them; but I am really sorry for breaking our engagement. I met an
old college friend--there was business too, in the morning--we dined
together--he would take no denial."

"Basil, how pale you look! Are you ill?"

"No; the heat has been a little too much for me--nothing more."

"Has anything happened? I only ask, because if I can be of any use--if
you want me to stay at home--"

"Certainly not, love. I wish you all success and pleasure at the ball."

For a moment she did not speak; but fixed her clear, kind eyes on me
more gravely and anxiously than usual. Was she searching my heart, and
discovering the new love rising, an usurper already, in the place where
the love of her had reigned before?

Love! love for a shopkeeper's daughter! That thought came again, as she
looked at me! and, strangely mingled with it, a maxim I had often heard
my father repeat to Ralph--"Never forget that your station is not yours,
to do as you like with. It belongs to us, and belongs to your children.
You must keep it for them, as I have kept it for you."

"I thought," resumed Clara, in rather lower tones than before, "that I
would just look into your room before I went to the ball, and see that
everything was properly arranged for you, in case you had any idea of
writing tonight; I had just time to do this while my aunt, who is going
with me, was upstairs altering her toilette. But perhaps you don't feel
inclined to write?"

"I will try at least."

"Can I do anything more? Would you like my nosegay left in the
room?--the flowers smell so fresh! I can easily get another. Look at the
roses, my favourite white roses, that always remind me of my own garden
at the dear old Park!"

"Thank you, Clara; but I think the nosegay is fitter for your hand than
my table."

"Good night, Basil."

"Good night."

She walked to the door, then turned round, and smiled as if