not come there to speak of him.

"Lady Staveley's house has been turned up side down since this
affair, and it is time now that some part of the trouble should
cease."

"Oh! mamma does not mind it at all."

"I know how good she is; but nevertheless, Miss Staveley, I must go
to-morrow." And then he paused a moment before he spoke again. "It
will depend entirely upon you," he said, "whether I may have the
happiness of returning soon to Noningsby."

"On me, Mr. Orme!"

"Yes, on you. I do not know how to speak properly that which I have
to say; but I believe I may as well say it out at once. I have come
here now to tell you that I love you and to ask you to be my wife."
And then he stopped as though there were nothing more for him to say
upon the matter.

It would be hardly extravagant to declare that Madeline's breath was
taken away by the very sudden manner in which young Orme had made his
proposition. It had never entered her head that she had an admirer in
him. Previously to Graham's accident she had thought nothing about
him. Since that event she had thought about him a good deal; but
altogether as of a friend of Graham's. He had been good and kind to
Graham, and therefore she had liked him and had talked to him. He
had never said a word to her that had taught her to regard him as
a possible lover; and now that he was an actual lover, a declared
lover standing before her, waiting for an answer, she was so
astonished that she did not know how to speak. All her ideas too,
as to love,--such ideas as she had ever formed, were confounded by
his abruptness. She would have thought, had she brought herself
absolutely to think upon it, that all speech of love should be very
delicate; that love should grow slowly, and then be whispered softly,
doubtingly, and with infinite care. Even had she loved him, or had
she been in the way towards loving him, such violence as this would
have frightened her and scared her love away. Poor Peregrine! His
intentions had been so good and honest! He was so true and hearty,
and free from all conceit in the matter! It was a pity that he should
have marred his cause by such ill judgment.

But there he stood waiting an answer,--and expecting it to be as
open, definite, and plain as though he had asked her to take a walk
with him. "Madeline," he said, stretching out his hand when he
perceived that she did not speak to him at once. "There is my hand.
If it be possible give me yours."

"Oh