unobserved at the door of a small hostelrie, now coolly approached and
dragged off the bone of contention. "But what sayst thou now? See! see!
the patient mongrel carries off the bone from the gentleman-hounds. Is
that the way of the world?"

"Pardie! it is a naught world, if so, and much changed from the time of
our fathers, the Normans. But these Saxons are getting uppermost again,
and the yard measure, I fear me, is more potent in these holiday times
than the mace or the battle-axe." The Nevile paused, sighed, and changed
the subject: "This house of thine must have been a stately pile in its
day. I see but one side of the quadrangle is left, though it be easy to
trace where the other three have stood."

"And you may see their stones and their fittings in the butcher's and
baker's stalls over the way," replied Sibyll.

"Ay!" said the Nevile, "the parings of the gentry begin to be the wealth
of the varlets."

"Little ought we to pine at that," returned Sibyll, "if the varlets were
but gentle with our poverty; but they loathe the humbled fortunes on
which they rise, and while slaves to the rich, are tyrants to the poor."

This was said so sadly, that the Nevile felt his eyes overflow; and the
humble dress of the girl, the melancholy ridges which evinced the site
of a noble house, now shrunk into a dismal ruin, the remembrance of the
pastime-ground, the insults of the crowd, and the broken gittern, all
conspired to move his compassion, and to give force to yet more tender
emotions.

"Ah," he said suddenly, and with a quick faint blush over his handsome
and manly countenance,--"ah, fair maid--fair Sibyll--God grant that I
may win something of gold and fortune amidst yonder towers, on which the
sun shines so cheerly. God grant it, not for my sake,--not for mine; but
that I may have something besides a true heart and a stainless name to
lay at thy feet. Oh, Sibyll! By this hand, by my father's soul, I love
thee, Sibyll! Have I not said it before? Well, hear me now,--I love
thee!"

As he spoke, he clasped her hand in his own, and she suffered it for one
instant to rest in his. Then withdrawing it, and meeting his enamoured
eyes with a strange sadness in her own darker, deeper, and more
intelligent orbs, she said,--

"I thank thee,--thank thee for the honour of such kind thoughts; and
frankly I answer, as thou hast frankly spoken. It was sweet to me, who
have known little in life not hard and bitter,--sweet to wish