had said many ill-natured things of our young 'squire's
wife, whom he married at Naples, from the house of the well-known Lady
Hamilton.

"She was, you are aware, Lady Caroline Ravenel, the Earl of Luxmore's
daughter."

"Yes, yes; but that does not signify. I know nothing of Lord
Luxmore--I want to know what she is herself."

John hesitated, then answered, as he could with truth, "She is said to
be very charitable to the poor, pleasant and kind-hearted. But, if I
may venture to hint as much, not exactly the friend whom I think Miss
March would choose, or to whom she would like to be indebted for
anything but courtesy."

"That was not my meaning. I need not be indebted to any one. Only, if
she were a good woman, Lady Caroline would have been a great comfort
and a useful adviser to one who is scarcely eighteen, and, I believe,
an heiress."

"An heiress!" The colour flashed in a torrent over John's whole face,
then left him pale. "I--pardon me--I thought it was otherwise. Allow
me to--to express my pleasure--"

"It does not add to mine," said she, half-sighing. "Jane Cardigan
always told me riches brought many cares. Poor Jane! I wish I could go
back to her--but that is impossible!"

A silence here intervened, which it was necessary some one should break.

"So much good can be done with a large fortune," I said.

"Yes. I know not if mine is very large; indeed, I never understood
money matters, but have merely believed what--what I was told. However,
be my fortune much or little, I will try to use it well."

"I am sure you will."

John said nothing; but his eyes, sad indeed, yet lit with a proud
tenderness, rested upon her as she spoke. Soon after, he rose up to
take leave.

"Do not go yet; I want to ask about Norton Bury. I had no idea you
lived there. And Mr. Fletcher too?"

I replied in the affirmative.

"In what part of the town?"

"On the Coltham Road, near the Abbey."

"Ah, those Abbey chimes!--how I used to listen to them, night after
night, when the pain kept me awake!"

"What pain?" asked John, suddenly, alive to any suffering of hers.

Miss March smiled almost like her old smile. "Oh! I had nearly
forgotten it, though it was very bad at the time; only that I cut my
wrist rather dangerously with a bread knife, in a struggle with my
nurse."

"When was that?" eagerly inquired John.

For me, I said nothing. Already I guessed all. Alas! the tide of fate
was running strong agai