onable doubt that he did but bear the blame
of some one else's guilt, most likely that of George Proudfoot; but
he died a year or two back without a word, and no proof has ever
been found; and alas! the week after Archie sailed, we saw his name
in the list of sufferers in a vessel that was burnt. His mother
happily had died before all this, but there were plenty to grieve
bitterly for him; and poor Jenny has been the more like one of
ourselves in consequence. He had left a note for Jenny, and she
always trusted him; and we all of us believe that he was innocent."

"I can't think how a person can go about as usual, or ever get over
such a thing as that."

"Perhaps she hasn't," said Raymond, with a little colour on his
brown cheek. "But I'm afraid I can't make those visits with you to-
day. I am wanted to see the plans for the new town-hall at
Wil'sbro'. Will you pick me up there?"

"There would be sure to be a dreadful long waiting, so I will
luncheon at Sirenwood instead; Lady Tyrrell asked me to come over
any day."

"Alone? I think you had better wait for me."

"I can take Frank."

"I should prefer a regular invitation to us both."

"She did not mean to make a formal affair."

"Forms are a protection, and I do not wish for an intimacy there,
especially on Frank's account."

"It would be an excellent match for Frank."

"Indeed, no; the estate is terribly involved, and there are three
daughters; besides which, the family would despise a younger son.
An attachment could only lead to unhappiness now, besides the
positive harm of unsettling him. His tutor tells me that as it is
he is very uneasy about his examination--his mind is evidently
preoccupied. No, no, Cecil, don't make the intercourse
unnecessarily close. The Vivians have not behaved well to my
mother, and it is not desirable to begin a renewal. But you shall
not lose your ride, Cecil; I'll ask one of the boys to go with you
to the Beeches, and perhaps I shall meet you there."

"He talks of my lonely life," said Cecil, to herself, "and yet he
wants to keep me from the only person who really understands me, all
for some rancorous old prejudice of Mrs. Poynsett's. It is very
hard. There's no one in the house to make a friend of--Rosamond, a
mere garrison belle; and Anne, bornee and half a dissenter; and as
soon as I try to make a friend, I am tyrannized over, and this Miss
Bowater thrust on me."

She was pounding these sentiments into a s