he room, nothing was then said about it. But after dinner the
subject was discussed.

"I wish I knew how to stop the fellow's mouth," said the elder
brother.

"I think I should get Carey to see him," suggested Gregory. "He would
understand a lawyer when he was told that nothing could come of it
but trouble to himself and his daughter."

"She has no hand in it, you know."

"But it must injure her."

"One would think so. But she is a girl whom nothing can injure. You
can't imagine how good and how great she is;--great in her way, that
is. She is as steady as a rock; and nobody who knows her will ever
imagine her to be a party to her father's folly. She may pick and
choose a husband any day she pleases. And the men about her won't
mind this kind of thing as we should. No doubt all their friends joke
him about it, but no one will think of blaming Polly."

"It can't do her any good," said Gregory.

"It cannot do her any harm. She has a strength of her own that even
her father can't lessen."

"All the same, I wish there were an end of it."

"So do I, for my own sake," said Ralph. As he spoke he filled his
glass, and passed the bottle, and then was silent for a few moments.
"Neefit did help me," he continued, "and I don't want to speak
against him; but he is the most pig-headed old fool that ever
existed. Nothing will stop him but Polly's marriage, or mine."

"I suppose you will marry soon now. You ought to be married," said
Gregory, in a melancholy tone, in which was told something of the
disappointment of his own passion.

"Well;--yes. I believe I might as well tell you a little secret,
Greg."

"I suppose I can guess it," said Gregory, with still a deeper sound
of woe.

"I don't think you can. It is quite possible you may, however. You
know Mary Bonner;--don't you?"

The cloud upon the parson's brow was at once lightened. "No," said
he. "I have heard of her, of course."

"You have never seen Mary Bonner?"

"I have not been up in town since she came. What should take me up?
And if I were there, I doubt whether I should go out to Fulham. What
is the use of going?" But still, though he spoke thus, there was
something less of melancholy in his voice than when he had first
spoken. Ralph did not immediately go on with his story, and his
brother now asked a question. "But what of Mary Bonner? Is she to be
the future mistress of the Priory?"

"God only knows."

"But you mean to ask her?"

"I have asked he