rchance?" he said.

Dorothy flushed up hotly at the taunt. Manners saw it, and would have
done much to have recalled his hasty words, but they were gone.

"Master Manners!" Doll exclaimed, turning quickly round upon him; "I
have spurned him; I have told him what I think. Once and for ever have
I refused him, and he knows I shall not change."

"Fair Dorothy, sweet Dorothy," Manners penitently exclaimed, dropping
hurriedly upon his knees; "you shall be my queen. Forgive me--or
condemn. I sue you for your pardon, nor will I rise until I have
gained it."

"I will visit you to-morrow, then," she said, turning to go.
"Farewell."

Her voice was sweet again, and her brow was once more clear.

"You have forgiven me?" he cried, rising up and following her.

"What, sir knight?" she exclaimed, in feigned surprise, "risen, eh?
Upon my word, you are a fickle cavalier. Well, I suppose I must extend
my clemency to you. At what price will you be willing to purchase my
forgiveness?"

Manners was just going to tell her he would give himself and all he
had to her if she would take it, but a sudden bend in the path brought
them face to face with Margaret and Crowleigh, and the words were left
unspoken.

It needed no question to inform Sir Everard that his friend's mission
was not accomplished yet. He looked to see the sparkling eyes and
a countenance beaming with delight, but was met by a face the very
picture of disappointment; and shrewdly seeing that their company
would be in no wise acceptable at such a juncture, he adroitly led
Margaret on, still an interested listener to his wonderful tales, and
intimating that they were returning to Haddon, they passed the lovers
by.

For a time Dorothy and Manners walked on in perfect silence, the one
preparing to pour out the story of his love, and the other waiting and
expecting the declaration.

"We had better retrace our steps now," exclaimed Dorothy at length.

They turned round and began to wend their way again towards the Hall,
in a silence that was positively painful to both.

"You are dreaming, Master Manners," she exclaimed, as they neared the
narrow bridge which spans the Wye just outside the gates of Haddon.

"Come, sir, declare your thoughts; let me be your confessor, for
I will shrive thee right easily, and the penance shall be pleasant
enough, I assure thee. Now confess!"

"I was thinking of--of love," he stammered out.

"Love! then I forgive thee," she exclaimed