your mind at rest."

"Well," said Ethel, quickly, "if you _must_ know--it was only a bit of
gossip--servants gossip. I know all that can be said respecting the
foolishness of listening to gossip from such a source--but I can't help
it. One of the maids at Mr. Brooke's----"

"Sarah?" asked Oliver, with interest. "Sarah never liked me."

"Who, it was not Sarah.--it was that maid of Lesley's--Kingston her name
is, I believe--who said to one of our servants one day that you went
there a great deal oftener than she would like, if she were in my place.
There! I have made a full confession. It was a petty spiteful bit of
gossip, of course, and I ought not to have listened to it--but then it
seemed so natural--and I thought it might be true!"

"What seemed natural?" said Oliver, who, against his will, was looking
very black.

"Why, that you should like Lesley; she is the sweetest girl I ever came
across."

In his heart Oliver echoed that opinion, but he felt morally bound to
deny it.

"You say so only because you have never seen yourself! My darling, how
could you accuse me merely on servants' evidence!"

"Is there _no_ truth in it, Oliver?"

"None in the least."

"But you do go there very often!"

Then Oliver achieved a masterpiece of diplomacy. "My dear Ethel," he
said, "I will go there no more until you go with me. I will not set foot
in the house again."

He knew very well that Mr. Brooke would not admit him. It was clever to
make a virtue of necessity.

"No, no, please don't do that! Go as often as you please."

"It was simply out of kindness to a lonely girl. I played her
accompaniments for her sometimes, and listened to her singing. But as
you dislike it, Ethel, I promise you that I will go there no more."

"Oh, Oliver, forgive me! I don't doubt you a bit. Do go to see Lesley as
often as you can. I should _like_ you to do it. Go for my sake."

But Oliver was quite obdurate. No, he would not go to the Brookes'
again, since Ethel had once objected to his going. And on this pinnacle
of austere virtue he remained, thereby reducing Ethel to a state of
self-abasement, which spoke well for his chances of mastery in the
married life which loomed before him.

CHAPTER XXII.

LADY ALICE'S PHILANTHROPY.

Meanwhile, Lady Alice Brooke, in pursuit of her new fancy for
philanthropy and the sick poor, had wandered somewhat aimlessly into
other wards beside those set apart for women and children--at first