en he was first
introduced to the reader; he is now twenty-two. It may be said that
there was a great difference between his character then and now. A
year at that period will make a great difference; but the change has
been, not in his character, but in his feelings.

Frank went out from his mother and immediately ordered his black
horse to be got ready for him. He would at once go over to Boxall
Hill. He went himself to the stables to give his orders; and as he
returned to get his gloves and whip he met Beatrice in the corridor.

"Beatrice," said he, "step in here," and she followed him into his
room. "I'm not going to bear this any longer; I'm going to Boxall
Hill."

"Oh, Frank! how can you be so imprudent?"

"You, at any rate, have some decent feeling for Mary. I believe you
have some regard for her; and therefore I tell you. Will you send her
any message?"

"Oh, yes; my best, best love; that is if you will see her; but,
Frank, you are very foolish, very; and she will be infinitely
distressed."

"Do not mention this, that is, not at present; not that I mean to
make any secret of it. I shall tell my father everything. I'm off
now!" and then, paying no attention to her remonstrance, he turned
down the stairs and was soon on horseback.

He took the road to Boxall Hill, but he did not ride very fast: he
did not go jauntily as a jolly, thriving wooer; but musingly, and
often with diffidence, meditating every now and then whether it
would not be better for him to turn back: to turn back--but not from
fear of his mother; not from prudential motives; not because that
often-repeated lesson as to marrying money was beginning to take
effect; not from such causes as these; but because he doubted how he
might be received by Mary.

He did, it is true, think something about his worldly prospects. He
had talked rather grandiloquently to his mother as to his hating
money, and hating the estate. His mother's never-ceasing worldly
cares on such subjects perhaps demanded that a little grandiloquence
should be opposed to them. But Frank did not hate the estate; nor did
he at all hate the position of an English country gentleman. Miss
Dunstable's eloquence, however, rang in his ears. For Miss Dunstable
had an eloquence of her own, even in her letters. "Never let them
talk you out of your own true, honest, hearty feelings," she had
said. "Greshamsbury is a very nice place, I am sure; and I hope I
shall see it some day; but all