can repress the dismal thoughts and apprehensions that come crowding
in--but it is folly to give way to such weakness, I know. If Rachel is
satisfied with such a life, why should not I?--Indeed, I cannot be too
thankful for such an asylum, while it is left me.'

The closing sentence was uttered in an under-tone, as if spoken rather to
herself than to me. She then bid me good-evening and withdrew.

I had not proceeded many steps on my way homewards when I perceived Mr.
Lawrence, on his pretty grey pony, coming up the rugged lane that crossed
over the hill-top. I went a little out of my way to speak to him; for we
had not met for some time.

'Was that Mrs. Graham you were speaking to just now?' said he, after the
first few words of greeting had passed between us.

'Yes.'

'Humph! I thought so.' He looked contemplatively at his horse's mane,
as if he had some serious cause of dissatisfaction with it, or something
else.

'Well! what then?'

'Oh, nothing!' replied he. 'Only I thought you disliked her,' he quietly
added, curling his classic lip with a slightly sarcastic smile.

'Suppose I did; mayn't a man change his mind on further acquaintance?'

'Yes, of course,' returned he, nicely reducing an entanglement in the
pony's redundant hoary mane. Then suddenly turning to me, and fixing his
shy, hazel eyes upon me with a steady penetrating gaze, he added, 'Then
you have changed your mind?'

'I can't say that I have exactly. No; I think I hold the same opinion
respecting her as before--but slightly ameliorated.'

'Oh!' He looked round for something else to talk about; and glancing up
at the moon, made some remark upon the beauty of the evening, which I did
not answer, as being irrelevant to the subject.

'Lawrence,' said I, calmly looking him in the face, 'are you in love with
Mrs. Graham?'

Instead of his being deeply offended at this, as I more than half
expected he would, the first start of surprise, at the audacious
question, was followed by a tittering laugh, as if he was highly amused
at the idea.

'I in love with her!' repeated he. 'What makes you dream of such a
thing?'

'From the interest you take in the progress of my acquaintance with the
lady, and the changes of my opinion concerning her, I thought you might
be jealous.'

He laughed again. 'Jealous! no. But I thought you were going to marry
Eliza Millward.'

'You thought wrong, then; I am not going to marry either one or the
other-