the sin of his passion, and of what her
sin would be if she were to permit it, he sat by her weeping like an
infant, tears which were certainly tears of innocence. She had been
very angry with him; but I think she loved him better when her sermon
was finished, than she had ever loved him before.

There was no further question as to her going to Aylmer Castle, nor
was any mention made of Mrs. Askerton's invitation to the cottage.
The letter for Lady Aylmer was sent, and it was agreed between them
that Will should remain at Redicote till the answer from Yorkshire
should come, and should then convey Clara as far as London on her
journey. And when he took leave of her that afternoon, she was able
to give him her hand in her old hearty, loving way, and to call him
Will with the old hearty, loving tone. And he,--he was able to accept
these tokens of her graciousness, as though they were signs of a
pardon which she had been good to give, but which he certainly had
not deserved.

As he went back to Redicote, he swore to himself that he would never
love any woman but her,--even though she must be the wife of Captain
Aylmer.

CHAPTER XXIII.

THE LAST DAY AT BELTON.

In course of post there came an answer from Lady Aylmer, naming a
day for Clara's journey to Yorkshire, and also a letter from Captain
Aylmer, in which he stated that he would meet her in London and
convey her down to Aylmer Park. "The House is sitting," he said, "and
therefore I shall be a little troubled about my time; but I cannot
allow that your first meeting with my mother should take place in
my absence." This was all very well, but at the end of the letter
there was a word of caution that was not so well. "I am sure, my dear
Clara, that you will remember how much is due to my mother's age,
and character, and position. Nothing will be wanted to the happiness
of our marriage, if you can succeed in gaining her affection, and
therefore I make it my first request to you that you should endeavour
to win her good opinion." There was nothing perhaps really amiss,
certainly nothing unreasonable, in such words from a future husband
to his future wife; but Clara, as she read them, shook her head and
pressed her foot against the ground in anger. It would not do. Sorrow
would come, and trouble and disappointment. She did not say so, even
to herself, in words; but the words, though not spoken, were audible
enough to herself. She could not, would not, bend to L