, in the exclusive
attention paid to the claims of the horses. Reaching a shrubbery which
bounded one side of the grounds next, her Ladyship became aware of a man
slowly approaching her, to all appearance absorbed in thought. The
man drew a little nearer. She lifted her glasses to her eyes and
recognized--Moody.

No embarrassment was produced on either side by this unexpected meeting.
Lady Lydiard had, not long since, sent to ask her former steward to
visit her; regretting, in her warm-hearted way, the terms on which they
had separated, and wishing to atone for the harsh language that had
escaped her at their parting interview. In the friendly talk which
followed the reconciliation, Lady Lydiard not only heard the news
of Moody's pecuniary inheritance--but, noticing the change in his
appearance for the worse, contrived to extract from him the confession
of his ill-starred passion for Isabel. To discover him now, after all
that he had acknowledged, walking about the grounds at Hardyman's farm,
took her Ladyship completely by surprise. "Good Heavens!" she exclaimed,
in her loudest tones, "what are you doing here?"

"You mentioned Mr. Hardyman's garden party, my Lady, when I had the
honor of waiting on you," Moody answered. "Thinking over it afterward,
it seemed the fittest occasion I could find for making a little wedding
present to Miss Isabel. Is there any harm in my asking Mr. Hardyman to
let me put the present on her plate, so that she may see it when she
sits down to luncheon? If your Ladyship thinks so, I will go away
directly, and send the gift by post."

Lady Lydiard looked at him attentively. "You don't despise the girl,"
she asked, "for selling herself for rank and money? I do--I can tell
you!"

Moody's worn white face flushed a little. "No, my Lady," he answered,
"I can't hear you say that! Isabel would not have engaged herself to Mr.
Hardyman unless she had been fond of him--as fond, I dare say, as I once
hoped she might be of me. It's a hard thing to confess that; but I do
confess it, in justice to her--God bless her!"

The generosity that spoke in those simple words touched the finest
sympathies in Lady Lydiard's nature. "Give me your hand," she said, with
her own generous spirit kindling in her eyes. "You have a great heart,
Moody. Isabel Miller is a fool for not marrying _you_--and one day she
will know it!"

Before a word more could pass between them, Hardyman's voice was audible
on the other side