daring to lift his
eyes to Graeme Elliott. She would not look at him."

"Mr Green is a great man in his own circle, I can assure you," said Mr
Ruthven. "Miss Elliott will be thought fortunate by people generally."

"Do you think so? You know very little about her, if you think that,"
said Lilias, impatiently.

"I know Mr Green better than most people do, and I respect him--and he
is very rich--"

"Oh! don't talk folly," cried Lilias. "I have no patience with people
who think, because a man is rich--. But you don't know Graeme, cousin
Allan--I thought--"

They were very near Graeme by this time. She turned at the moment, and
greeted them frankly enough, as far as any one could see. She noticed
the cloud on Lilias' face, and asked her if she was quite well; she
expressed pleasure at the return of Mr Ruthven too, but she did not
meet his eye, though he told her he had seen her brother Norman at a
station by the way, and detained her to give her a message that he had
sent. He had schooled himself well, if he was really as unmoved by the
words of Mrs Roxbury and Lilias, as to his cousin he appeared to be.
But he was not a man who let his thoughts write themselves on his face,
and she might easily be deceived. It was not a pleasant moment, it was
a very bitter moment indeed, to him, when with a smile to them, Graeme
placed her hand on the willing arm of Mr Green, and walked away "like a
queen," he said to himself, but to his cousin he said--

"My friend will be a very happy man, and _your_ friend may be happy too,
let us hope."

But Lilias never answered a word. She followed them, with her eyes,
till they disappeared through the door that led to the room beyond; and
then she said only,--

"I have made a great mistake."

Had she made a mistake or had he? A mistake never to be undone, never
outlived--a mistake for Graeme, for himself, perhaps for Lilias too. It
was not a thought to be borne, and he put it from him sternly, saying it
could not have been otherwise--nothing could be changed now; and he was
very gentle and tender with his little cousin that night and afterwards,
saying to himself that she, at least, should have no cause to grieve in
the future, if his loving care for her could avail.

About this time Will was threatened with a serious illness. It did not
prove so serious as they at first feared, but it was long and tedious,
and gave his eldest sister an excuse for denying herself to many w