olding?"
she said. "I feel as if I had wings to-day;" and in another moment
Griselda had tripped downstairs, and was at the door of the
sitting-room, where on a sofa reclined Lady Betty.

Lady Betty was fanning herself vigorously--always a sign of a coming
storm; and Sir Maxwell Danby was leaning back in an armchair, toying
with his snuff-box and the trifles hanging to his watch-chain. The
ruffles on his coat were of the most costly lace, and so was the edge of
the long cravat, which, however, was peppered with the snuff he was
continually using.

There was a gleam of something very much the reverse of kindly intention
in his little deep-set eyes, and cunning and malice were making curves
round his thin lips, though, on Griselda's entrance, a smile, which was
meant to be fascinating, parted them; and, rising in reply to her
curtsey at the threshold of the door, he bowed low, advanced to her,
and, offering his hand, said:

"May I beg leave to hand you to a chair?"

Then, as Griselda drew her hand away and turned on him a look of
disgust, Lady Betty almost screamed out:

"What do you mean by flouncing like that, miss? Sit down at once, and
hear of the honour this gentleman proposes to do you. He offers you what
you little deserve."

"Nay--nay, my lady," Sir Maxwell began; "that is impossible for any man
to offer. A diadem laid at this fair lady's feet would be all too little
for her deserts. But may I venture to address a few words to your fair
ward? and then I will take my leave, and await with anxiety a
reply--say, to-morrow at this time. I would not hasten her. Madam," he
began, with his hand on his heart--"madam, I pray you to listen to my
poor words; and, as you listen, believe that they come from one weary of
the hollow insincerities of a gay world, and longing to rest itself on
something real and steadfast. I see in you the perfection of womanhood.
I adore you; and Lady Betty favours my suit. I can offer you a
position--a social rank--not to be lightly esteemed. Danby Hall is my
ancestral home, and thither I crave leave to convey you, ere many months
have passed, as its beautiful mistress, and----"

"Sir," Griselda interrupted, as this suitor bent on one knee, with due
care not to cause a rupture between the silk stockings which met his
knee-breeches by too sudden a genuflexion--"sir, I must beg you to
desist. Surely, Aunt Betty, you have not encouraged this gentleman to
pursue a suit which is distasteful