t see Miss Le Smyrger, but on the following
morning, knowing that Captain Broughton had gone off,--having heard the
wheels of the carriage as they passed by the parsonage gate on his way
to the station,--she walked up to the Colne.

'He has told you, I suppose?' said she.

'Yes,' said Miss Le Smyrger. 'And I will never see him again unless he
asks your pardon on his knees. I have told him so. I would not even give
him my hand as he went.'

'But why so, thou kindest one? The fault was mine more than his.'

'I understand. I have eyes in my head,' said the old maid. 'I have
watched him for the last four or five days. If you could have kept the
truth to yourself and bade him keep off from you, he would have been at
your feet now, licking the dust from your shoes.'

'But, dear friend, I do not want a man to lick dust from my shoes.'

'Ah, you are a fool. You do not know the value of your own wealth.'

'True; I have been a fool. I was a fool to think that one coming from
such a life as he has led could be happy with such as I am. I know the
truth now. I have bought the lesson dearly--but perhaps not too dearly,
seeing that it will never be forgotten.'

There was but little more said about the matter between our three
friends at Oxney Colne. What, indeed, could be said? Miss Le Smyrger for
a year or two still expected that her nephew would return and claim his
bride; but he has never done so, nor has there been any correspondence
between them. Patience Woolsworthy had learned her lesson dearly. She
had given her whole heart to the man; and, though she so bore herself
that no one was aware of the violence of the struggle, nevertheless the
struggle within her bosom was very violent. She never told herself that
she had done wrong; she never regretted her loss; but yet--yet!--the
loss was very hard to bear. He also had loved her, but he was not
capable of a love which could much injure his daily peace. Her daily
peace was gone for many a day to come.

Her father is still living; but there is a curate now in the parish. In
conjunction with him and with Miss Le Smyrger she spends her time in the
concerns of the parish. In her own eyes she is a confirmed old maid; and
such is my opinion also. The romance of her life was played out in that
summer. She never sits now lonely on the hillside thinking how much she
might do for one whom she really loved. But with a large heart she loves
many, and, with no romance, she works hard t