uire much pressing, you can readily believe
that. But duty is imperative, and go I must."

"You did not tell me you were going," says Molly, looking aggrieved.
"How long have you known it?"

"For a week. I could not bear to think about leaving, much less to
speak of it, so full of charms has Brooklyn proved itself,"--with a
smile at Mrs. Massereene,--"but it is an indisputable fact for all
that."

"Well, in spite of Lindley Murray I maintain that life is long," says
Massereene, who has been silent for the past few minutes. "And I need
hardly tell you, Luttrell, you are welcome here whenever you please to
come."

"Thank you, old boy," says Luttrell.

"Come out," whispers Molly, slipping her hand into her lover's (she
minds John and Letitia about as much as she minds the tables and
chairs); "the rain has ceased; and see what a beautiful sun. I have any
amount of things to say to you, and a whole volume of questions to ask
about my detested _grand-pere_. So freshen your wits. But first
before we go"--mischievously, and with a little nod full of reproof--"I
really think you ought to apologize to John for your scandalous
behavior of this morning."

"Molly, I predict this glorious future for you," says her brother:
"that you will be returned to me from Herst Royal in disgrace."

* * * * *

When they have reached the summer-house in the garden, whither they
have wended their way, with a view to shade (as the sun, having been
debarred from shining for so many hours, is now exerting itself to the
utmost to make up for lost time), Luttrell draws from his pocket the
identical parcel delivered to him by Sarah, and, holding it out to
Molly, says, somewhat shamefacedly:

"Here is something for you."

"For me?" coloring with surprise and pleasant expectation. She is a
being so unmistakably delighted with anything she receives, be it small
or great, that it is an absolute joy to give to her. "What is it?"

"Open it and see. I have not seen it myself yet, but I hope it will
please you."

Off comes the wrapper; a little leather case is disclosed, a mysterious
fastener undone, and there inside, in its velvet shelter, lies an
exquisite diamond ring that glistens and flashes up into her enchanted
eyes.

"Oh, Teddy! it cannot be for me," she says, with a little gasp that
speaks volumes; "it is too beautiful. Oh, how good of you to think of
it! And how did you know that if there is on