wn as quickly
as her feet would carry her. He had opened the front door, and was
standing outside upon the gravel, and there she joined him.

"I had no other way but this of speaking to you," he said.

"I don't dislike coming out at all," she answered. Then there was
silence for a moment or two as they walked along into the gloom of
the shrubbery. "I suppose you are going down to Norfolk soon?" she
said.

"I do not quite know. I thought of going to-morrow."

"So soon as that?"

"But I've got something that I want to settle. I think you must know
what it is." Then he paused again, almost as though he expected her
to confess that she did know. But Mary was well aware that it was not
for her to say another word till he had fully explained in most open
detail what it was that he desired to settle. "You know a good deal
of my history, Miss Newton. When I thought that things were going
well with me,--much better than I had ever allowed myself to expect
in early days, I,--I,--became acquainted with you." Again he paused,
but she had not a word to say. "I dare say you were not told, but I
wrote to your uncle then, asking him whether I might have his consent
to,--just to ask you to be my wife." Again he paused, but after that
he hurried on, speaking the words as quickly as he could throw them
forth from his mouth. "My father died, and of course that changed
everything. I told your uncle that all ground for pretension
that I might have had before was cut from under me. He knew the
circumstances of my birth,--and I supposed that you would know it
also."

Then she did speak. "Yes, I did," she said.

"Perhaps I was foolish to think that the property would make a
difference. But the truth of it is, I have not got over the feeling,
and shall never get over it. I love you with all my heart,--and
though it be for no good, I must tell you so."

"The property can make no difference," she said. "You ought to have
known that, Mr. Newton."

"Ah;--but it does. I tried to tell you the other day something of my
present home."

"Yes;--I know you did;--and I remember it all."

"There is nothing more to be said;--only to ask you to share it with
me."

She walked on with him in silence for a minute; but he said nothing
more to press his suit, and certainly it was her turn to speak now.
"I will share it with you," she said, pressing her arm upon his.

"My Mary!"

"Yes;--your Mary,--if you please." Then he took her in his arms, an