y appreciated by Tom, though he still shook
his head ruefully, as he recollected what a lout he had been at his
last meeting with Charlotte, and how little he could compare with such
a fine gentleman as had been described, 'And she always had a taste for
gentility.'

'Well, Tom, I would not wish to see a better gentleman any day, than
you have stuff enough in you to make; and, if Charlotte be a girl worth
having, she'll value that more than French polish. You're getting
polished, too, Tom, and will more as you get better and sounder, and
that polish will be true and not French.'

Meantime Charlotte had been in twenty states of mind. Had Tom striven
at once to return to the former terms, the Lady of Eschalott might have
treated it as mere natural homage, compared him with Delaford's
delicate flatteries, and disclaimed him. She had been chilling and shy
at the first meeting, expecting him to presume on his promotion, but
when he was gone, came no more, except for necessary interviews with
Miss Ponsonby, and then merely spoke civilly, and went away directly,
her heart began to fail her. Neglect mortified her; she was first
affronted, sure she did not care, and resolved to show that she did
not; but then the vexation became stronger, she wondered if he had
heard of Delaford, was angry at her intercourse with the butler being
deemed an offence, and finally arrived at a hearty longing for a return
to old times. Vanity or affection, one or the other, demanded Tom's
allegiance.

And Tom came at last. He did not come by moonlight--he did not come at
all romantically; but as she was washing vegetables, he stood by the
scullery door, and made no elegant circumlocutions. Would she be his
wife, some time or other? and he would try to be worthy of her.

Fitzjocelyn had judged her rightly! Sound true love had force enough
to dispel every illusion of sentimental flattery. Charlotte burst into
a flood of tears, and, sobbing behind her apron, confessed that she
never liked nobody like Tom, but she was afraid he would think she had
been false to him, for she did like Mr. Delaford's talk, all about
poetry and serenades; but she never would heed him no more, not if he
went down on his knees to her.

Tom was a great deal more likely to perform that feat.

He stood his ground when Mrs. Beckett came in, and told her all about
it, and the good old soul mingled her tears with Charlotte's, wished
them joy, and finished washing the g