elp it. What the person can't help is being in when the
plunge has once been made."

"No, by George! There's no getting out of that river."

"And ladies don't take the plunge till they've had time to think what
may come after it. Perhaps you were a little too sudden with our
cousin Clara?"

"Of course I was. Of course I was a fool, and a brute too."

"I know you were not a brute, and I don't think you were a fool; but
yet you were too sudden. You see a lady cannot always make up her
mind to love a man, merely because she is asked--all in a moment. She
should have a little time to think about it before she is called upon
for an answer."

"And I didn't give her two minutes."

"You never do give two minutes to anyone;--do you, Will? But you'll
be back there at Christmas, and then she will have had time to turn
you and it over in her mind."

"And you think that I may have a chance?"

"Certainty you may have a chance."

"Although she was so sure about it?"

"She spoke of her own mind and her own heart as she knew them then.
But it depends chiefly on this, Will,--whether there is any one else.
For anything we know, she may be engaged now."

"Of course she may." Then Belton speculated on the extreme
probability of such a contingency; arguing within his own heart that
of course every unmarried man who might see Clara would want to marry
her, and that there could not but be some one whom even she would be
able to love.

When he had been home about a fortnight, there came a letter to him
from Clara, which was a great treasure to him. In truth, it simply
told him of the completion of the cattle-shed, of her father's
health, and of the milk which the little cow gave; but she signed
herself his affectionate cousin, and the letter was very gratifying
to him. There were two lines of a postscript, which could not but
flatter him:--"Papa is so anxious for Christmas, that you may be here
again;--and so, indeed, am I also." Of course it will be understood
that this was written before Clara's visit to Perivale, and before
Mrs. Winterfield's death. Indeed, much happened in Clara's history
between the writing of that letter and Will Belton's winter visit to
the Castle.

But Christmas came at last, all too slowly for Will;--and he started
on his journey. On this occasion he arranged to stay a week in
London, having a lawyer there whom he desired to see; and thinking,
perhaps, that a short time spent among the theatres might