the dining-room. A screen cut off the
door, and as he was coming round it, followed by his nephew, Bertha's
clear voice was heard saying, 'Yes, he is inoffensive, but he is a stick.
There's no denying it, Mr. Hailes, he is a dreadful stick.'

Frank was too far advanced to retire, before the meaning dawned on him,
partly through a little explosion of Herbert behind him, and partly from
the guilty consternation and colour with which the other two turned round
from the erection of plants among which they were standing.

Yet it was the shy man who spoke first in the predicament, like a timid
creature driven to bay.

'Yes, Miss Morton, I know it is too true; no one is more sensible of it
than myself. I can only hope to do my best, such as it is.'

'Oh, Northmoor, it was very horrid and unguarded in me, and I can only be
sorry and beg your pardon,' and while she laughed and held out her hand,
there was a dew in her eyes.

'Truths do not need pardon,' he said, as he gave a cousinly grasp, 'and I
think you will try kindly to excuse my deficiencies and disadvantages.'

There was a certain dignity in his tone, and Bertha said heartily--

'Thank you. It is all right in essentials, and chatter is of very little
consequence. Now come and have some breakfast.'

They got on together far better after that, and began to feel like
relations, before Herbert was sent off with Mr. Prowse to Colbeam.
Indeed, throughout the transactions that followed, Bertha showed herself
far less devoted to her own interests than to what might be called the
honour of the family. Her father's will had been made in haste, after
the death of his little grandson, and was as concise as possible, her
influence having told upon it. Knowing that the new heir would have
nothing to begin with, and aware that if he inherited merely the title,
house, and land, he would be in great straits, the old Lord had
bequeathed to him nearly what would have been left to the grandson, a
fair proportion of the money in the funds and bank, and all the furniture
and appurtenances of Northmoor House, excepting such articles as Bertha
and Lady Adela might select, each up to a certain value.

Lady Adela's had been few, and already chosen, and Bertha's were
manifestly only matters of personal belonging, and not up altogether to
the amount named; so as to avoid stripping the place, which, at the best,
was only splendid in utterly unaccustomed eyes. Horses and carriages had