, Ruth, though I have not mentioned it so far, that
you are engaged to marry me?"

"I do. I will make a note of it if you wish."

"It is unnecessary. I shall be happy, when I am at leisure to remind you
myself. Indeed, I may say I shall make a point of doing so. There does
not happen to be any one else whom you feel it would be your duty to
marry?"

"I can't think of any one at the moment. Charles, you never _could_ have
believed I would marry _him_, after all?"

"Indeed, I did believe it. Don't I know the stubbornness of your heart?
You see, you are but young, and I make excuses for you; but, after you
have been the object of my special and judicious training for a few
years, I quite hope your judgment may improve considerably."

"I trust it will, as I see from your remarks--it will certainly be all
we shall have to guide us both."

* * * * *

POSTSCRIPT.--Lady Mary would not allow even Providence any of the credit
of Charles's engagement; she claimed the whole herself. She called
Evelyn to witness that from the first it had been her work entirely. She
only allowed Charles himself a very secondary part in the great event,
to which she was apt to point in later years as the crowning work of a
life devoted--under Church direction--to the temporal and spiritual
welfare of her fellow-creatures; and Charles avers that a mention of it
in the long list of her virtues will some day adorn the tombstone which
she has long since ordered to be in readiness.

Molly was disconsolate for many days, but work, that panacea of grief,
came to the rescue, and it was not long before she was secretly and
busily engaged on a large kettle-holder, with kettle and motto entwined,
for Charles's exclusive use, without which she had been led to
understand his establishment would be incomplete. When this work of art
was finished her feelings had become so far modified towards Ruth that
she consented to begin another very small and inferior one--merely a
kettle on a red ground--for that interloper, but whether it was ever
presented is not on record.

* * * * *

Vandon is to let. The grass has grown up again through the niches of the
stone steps. The place looks wild and deserted. Mr. Alwynn comes
sometimes, and looks up at its shuttered windows and trailing, neglected
ivy, but not often, for it gives him a strange pang at the heart. And as
he goes home the people come out of t