,
why should not Madeline be within his reach? But then was it so? Had
he not betrothed himself to Mary Snow in the presence of the girl's
father, with every solemnity and assurance, in a manner fixed beyond
that of all other betrothals? Alas, yes; and for this reason it was
right that he should hurry away from Noningsby.

Then he thought of Mary's letter, and of Mrs. Thomas's letter. What
was it that had been done? Mary had written as though she had been
charged with some childish offence; but Mrs. Thomas talked solemnly
of acquitting her own conscience. What could have happened that had
touched Mrs. Thomas in the conscience?

But his thoughts soon ran away from the little house at Peckham,
and settled themselves again at Noningsby. Should he hear more of
Madeline's footsteps?--and if not, why should they have been banished
from the corridor? Should he hear her voice again at the door,--and
if not, why should it have been hushed? There is a silence which may
be more eloquent than the sounds which it follows. Had no one in that
house guessed the feelings in his bosom, she would have walked along
the corridor as usual, and spoken a word with her sweet voice in
answer to his word. He felt sure that this would be so no more; but
who had stopped it, and why should such sounds be no more heard?

At last he did go to sleep, not in pursuance of any plan formed for
doing so; for had he been asked he would have said that sleep was
impossible for him. But he did go to sleep, and when he awoke it was
dark. He had intended to have got up and dressed on that afternoon,
or to have gone through such ceremony of dressing as was possible for
him,--in preparation of his next day's exercise; and now he rose up
in his bed with a start, angry with himself in having allowed the
time to pass by him.

"Lord love you, Mr. Graham, why how you have slept!" said Mrs. Baker.
"If I haven't just sent your dinner down again to keep hot. Such a
beautiful pheasant, and the bread sauce'll be lumpy now, for all the
world like pap."

"Never mind the bread sauce, Mrs. Baker;--the pheasant's the thing."

"And her ladyship's been here, Mr. Graham, only she wouldn't have you
woke. She won't hear of your being moved to-morrow, nor yet won't the
judge. There was a rumpus down stairs when Mr. Augustus as much as
mentioned it. I know one who--"

"You know one who--you were saying?"

"Never mind.--It ain't one more than another, but it's all. You ain't
t