iss Newville, I have met many a fair maiden, but none so
charming as the flower which I desire to transplant from the Colonies
to old England. My best judgment has selected you from them all."

"My lord, I appreciate your kind words, and what you would give
me--your honor, respect, and love, and an exalted social position. I
have heard from your lips somewhat concerning the life you would
expect me to lead,--the society in which you would have me move. I
trust you will pardon my frankness, but it does not attract me."

"I can quite understand you, dear Miss Newville; it is natural that
you should shrink from such a change, but I am sure you would adorn
the position."

"More than what I have said, my lord, I do not think I should be happy
in such a position."

"Oh, I think you would. Certainly, it would be my desire to place
before you every advantage that could contribute to your welfare and
happiness. The nobility of the realm would follow in your train. You
would captivate them with your grace and beauty. No party, rout, or
ball would be complete without you. I am sure that her most gracious
majesty the queen would desire your presence at court to grace her
receptions."

"You flatter me, my lord, but I do not think that fine dressing, the
adornment of pearls and diamonds, promenading, dancing, card playing,
and masquerading would give me the highest happiness. I think that
life has a nobler meaning. I should despise myself if I made them the
end and aim of my existence."

Lord Upperton could not quite comprehend her. He was aware that
across the sea many a mamma was laying her plans to make her daughter
mistress of Halford, and the daughters had looked at him with
languishing eyes, but here was a girl, guileless and pure, who was
putting aside the great boon he would gladly bestow upon her. He must
set before her the greatness of the gift. He described his estate--its
parks, meadows, groves of oak, the herds of deer, flocks of pheasants;
the rooms of the castle, the baronial hall, with antlers nailed upon
the beams and rafters, banners that had been carried by ancestors at
Crecy and Agincourt. He pictured life in London, scenes in Parliament,
the queen's drawing-rooms, the pageantry and etiquette at St. James's.
Miss Newville heard him in silence.

"Whatever there is to be had, whatever will contribute to your
happiness, I shall lay at your feet, dear Miss Newville."

What should she say to him? How inform h