ther Greg. His uncle had now been dead just six months, but he
felt as though he had been the owner of the Newton estate for years.
If Mr. Carey could only settle for him that trouble with Mr. Neefit,
how happy his life would be to him. He was very much in love with
Mary Bonner, but his trouble with Mr. Neefit was of almost more
importance to him than his love for Mary Bonner.

In the meantime the girls were living, as usual, at Popham Villa, and
Sir Thomas was living, as usual, in Southampton Buildings. He and his
colleague had been unseated, but it had already been decided by the
House of Commons that no new writ should be at once issued, and that
there should be a commission appointed to make extended inquiry at
Percycross in reference to the contemplated disfranchisement of the
borough. There could be no possible connexion between this inquiry
and the expediency of Sir Thomas living at home; but, after some
fashion, he reconciled further delay to his conscience by the fact
that the Percycross election was not even yet quite settled. No doubt
it would be necessary that he should again go to Percycross during
the sitting of the Commission.

The reader will remember the interview between Gregory Newton and
Clarissa, in which poor Clary had declared with so much emphasis her
certainty that his brother's suit to Mary must be fruitless. This she
had said, with artless energy, in no degree on her own behalf. She
was hopeless now in that direction, and had at last taught herself to
feel that the man was unworthy. The lesson had reached her, though
she herself was ignorant not only of the manner of the teaching, but
of the very fact that she had been taught. She had pleaded, more
than once, that men did such things, and were yet held in favour and
forgiven, let their iniquities have been what they might. She had
hoped to move others by the doctrine; but gradually it had ceased to
be operative, even on herself. She could not tell how it was that her
passion faded and died away. It can hardly be said that it died away;
but it became to herself grievous and a cause of soreness, instead of
a joy and a triumph. She no longer said, even to herself, that he was
to be excused. He had come there, and had made a mere plaything of
her,--wilfully. There was no earnestness in him, no manliness, and
hardly common honesty. A conviction that it was so had crept into
her poor wounded heart, in spite of those repeated assertions which
she h