r smiled and glanced at
me: I merely bowed, and her countenance fell. She thought it a poor
return for Walter's generous concession, and was disappointed in her
friend. Poor child, she little knows the world she lives in!

Mr. Hargrave had not an opportunity of meeting me again in private for
several weeks after this; but when he did meet me there was less of pride
and more of touching melancholy in his manner than before. Oh, how he
annoyed me! I was obliged at last almost entirely to remit my visits to
the Grove, at the expense of deeply offending Mrs. Hargrave and seriously
afflicting poor Esther, who really values my society for want of better,
and who ought not to suffer for the fault of her brother. But that
indefatigable foe was not yet vanquished: he seemed to be always on the
watch. I frequently saw him riding lingeringly past the premises,
looking searchingly round him as he went--or, if I did not, Rachel did.
That sharp-sighted woman soon guessed how matters stood between us, and
descrying the enemy's movements from her elevation at the nursery-window,
she would give me a quiet intimation if she saw me preparing for a walk
when she had reason to believe he was about, or to think it likely that
he would meet or overtake me in the way I meant to traverse. I would
then defer my ramble, or confine myself for that day to the park and
gardens, or, if the proposed excursion was a matter of importance, such
as a visit to the sick or afflicted, I would take Rachel with me, and
then I was never molested.

But one mild, sunshiny day, early in November, I had ventured forth alone
to visit the village school and a few of the poor tenants, and on my
return I was alarmed at the clatter of a horse's feet behind me,
approaching at a rapid, steady trot. There was no stile or gap at hand
by which I could escape into the fields, so I walked quietly on, saying
to myself, 'It may not be he after all; and if it is, and if he do annoy
me, it shall be for the last time, I am determined, if there be power in
words and looks against cool impudence and mawkish sentimentality so
inexhaustible as his.'

The horse soon overtook me, and was reined up close beside me. It was
Mr. Hargrave. He greeted me with a smile intended to be soft and
melancholy, but his triumphant satisfaction at having caught me at last
so shone through that it was quite a failure. After briefly answering
his salutation and inquiring after the ladies at th