ourt--a little. You must remember that my father is a parishioner
of Mr. Swancourt's.'

'I thought you might possibly not have lived at home since they have
been here.'

'I have never lived at home, certainly, since that time.'

'I have seen Mr. Smith,' faltered Elfride.

'Well, there is no excuse for me. As strangers to each other I ought,
I suppose, to have introduced you: as acquaintances, I should not have
stood so persistently between you. But the fact is, Smith, you seem a
boy to me, even now.'

Stephen appeared to have a more than previous consciousness of the
intense cruelty of his fate at the present moment. He could not repress
the words, uttered with a dim bitterness:

'You should have said that I seemed still the rural mechanic's son I am,
and hence an unfit subject for the ceremony of introductions.'

'Oh, no, no! I won't have that.' Knight endeavoured to give his reply
a laughing tone in Elfride's ears, and an earnestness in Stephen's:
in both which efforts he signally failed, and produced a forced speech
pleasant to neither. 'Well, let us go into the open air again; Miss
Swancourt, you are particularly silent. You mustn't mind Smith. I have
known him for years, as I have told you.'

'Yes, you have,' she said.

'To think she has never mentioned her knowledge of me!' Smith murmured,
and thought with some remorse how much her conduct resembled his own on
his first arrival at her house as a stranger to the place.

They ascended to the daylight, Knight taking no further notice of
Elfride's manner, which, as usual, he attributed to the natural shyness
of a young woman at being discovered walking with him on terms which
left not much doubt of their meaning. Elfride stepped a little in
advance, and passed through the churchyard.

'You are changed very considerably, Smith,' said Knight, 'and I suppose
it is no more than was to be expected. However, don't imagine that I
shall feel any the less interest in you and your fortunes whenever you
care to confide them to me. I have not forgotten the attachment you
spoke of as your reason for going away to India. A London young lady,
was it not? I hope all is prosperous?'

'No: the match is broken off.'

It being always difficult to know whether to express sorrow or gladness
under such circumstances--all depending upon the character of the
match--Knight took shelter in the safe words: 'I trust it was for the
best.'

'I hope it was. But I beg that you will