not dare even to ask her
to share the other. She understood it all, down to the look of
displeasure which crossed his face as he felt the possible effect of
his own speech. She understood it all, but she could not give him
much help,--as yet. There might perhaps come a moment in which she
could explain to him her own ideas about farms and estates, and the
reasons in accordance with which these might be selected and those
rejected. "Have you seen much of Ralph Newton lately?" asked the
other Ralph.

"Of your cousin?"

"Yes;--only I do not call him so. I have no right to call him my
cousin."

"No; We do not see much of him." This was said in a tone of voice
which ought to have sufficed for curing any anxiety in Ralph's bosom
respecting his rival. Had he not been sore and nervous, and, as it
must be admitted, almost stupid in the matter, he could not but have
gathered from that tone that his namesake was at least no favourite
with Miss Bonner. "He used to be a great deal at Popham Villa," said
Ralph.

"We do not see him often now. I fancy there has been some cause of
displeasure between him and my uncle. His brother has been with us
once or twice. I do like Mr. Gregory Newton."

"He is the best fellow that ever lived," exclaimed Ralph with energy.

"So much nicer than his brother," said Mary;--"though perhaps I ought
not to say so to you."

This at any rate could not but be satisfactory to him. "I like them
both," he said; "but I love Greg dearly. He and I have lived together
like brothers for years, whereas it is only quite lately that I have
known the other."

"It is only lately that I have known either;--but they seem to me
to be so different. Is not that a wonderfully beautiful picture, Mr.
Newton? Can't, you almost fancy yourself sitting down and throwing
stones into the river, or dabbling your feet in it?"

"It is very pretty," said he, not caring a penny for the picture.

"Have you any river at Beamingham?"

"There's a muddy little brook that you could almost jump over. You
wouldn't want to dabble in that."

"Has it got a name?"

"I think they call it the Wissey. It's not at all a river to be proud
of,--except in the way of eels and water-rats."

"Is there nothing to be proud of at Beamingham?"

"There's the church tower;--that's all."

"A church tower is something;--but I meant as to Beamingham Hall."

"That word Hall misleads people," said Ralph. "It's a kind of
upper-class farm-house with