as it that Mary felt a little flush of joy, as Frank spoke
in this indifferent way about Miss Oriel's health?

"I thought she was always a particular friend of yours," said she.

"What! who? Miss Oriel? So she is! I like her amazingly; so does
Beatrice." And then he walked about six steps in silence, plucking up
courage for the great attempt. He did pluck up his courage and then
rushed at once to the attack.

"Mary!" said he, and as he spoke he put his hand on the donkey's
neck, and looked tenderly into her face. He looked tenderly, and, as
Mary's ear at once told her, his voice sounded more soft than it had
ever sounded before. "Mary, do you remember the last time that we
were together?"

Mary did remember it well. It was on that occasion when he had
treacherously held her hand; on that day when, according to law, he
had become a man; when he had outraged all the propriety of the de
Courcy interest by offering his love to Mary in Augusta's hearing.
Mary did remember it well; but how was she to speak of it? "It was
your birthday, I think," said she.

"Yes, it was my birthday. I wonder whether you remember what I said
to you then?"

"I remember that you were very foolish, Mr Gresham."

"Mary, I have come to repeat my folly;--that is, if it be folly.
I told you then that I loved you, and I dare say that I did so
awkwardly, like a boy. Perhaps I may be just as awkward now; but you
ought at any rate to believe me when you find that a year has not
altered me."

Mary did not think him at all awkward, and she did believe him. But
how was she to answer him? She had not yet taught herself what answer
she ought to make if he persisted in his suit. She had hitherto been
content to run away from him; but she had done so because she would
not submit to be accused of the indelicacy of putting herself in his
way. She had rebuked him when he first spoke of his love; but she had
done so because she looked on what he said as a boy's nonsense. She
had schooled herself in obedience to the Greshamsbury doctrines. Was
there any real reason, any reason founded on truth and honesty, why
she should not be a fitting wife to Frank Gresham,--Francis Newbold
Gresham, of Greshamsbury, though he was, or was to be?

He was well born--as well born as any gentleman in England. She
was basely born--as basely born as any lady could be. Was this
sufficient bar against such a match? Mary felt in her heart that some
twelvemonth since, before she