have not troubled myself to hunt him up at his chambers."

"Gone back already!" Mrs. Branston exclaimed, with a disappointed
petulant look that was half-childish, half-womanly. "I cannot imagine
what charm he finds in a dull village on the banks of the river. He has
confessed that the place is the dreariest and most obscure in the world,
and that he has neither shooting nor any other kind of amusement. There
must be some mysterious attraction, Mr. Fenton. I think your friend is a
good deal changed of late. Haven't you found him so?"

"No, Mrs. Branston, I cannot say that I have discovered any marked
alteration in him since my return from Australia. John Saltram was always
wayward and fitful. He may have been a little more so lately, perhaps,
but that is all."

"You have a very high opinion of him, I suppose?"

"He is very dear to me. We were something more than friends in the
ordinary acceptation of the word. Do you remember the story of those two
noble young Venetians who inscribed upon their shield _Fraires, non
amici?_ Saltram and I have been brothers rather than friends."

"And you think him a good man?" Adela asked anxiously.

"Most decidedly; I have reason to think so. I believe him to be a
noble-hearted and honourable man; a little neglectful or disdainful of
conventionalities, wearing his faith in God and his more sacred feelings
anywhere than upon his sleeve; but a man who cannot fail to come right in
the long-run."

"I am so glad to hear you say that. I have known Mr. Saltram some time,
as you may have heard and like him very much. But my cousin Mrs.
Pallinson has quite an aversion to him, and speaks against him with such
a positive air at times, that I have been almost inclined to think she
must be right. I am very inexperienced in the ways of the world, and am
naturally disposed to lean a little upon the opinions of others."

"But don't you think there may be a reason for Mrs. Pallinson's dislike
of my friend?"

Adela Branston blushed at this question, and then laughed a little.

"I think I know what you mean," she said. "Yes, it is just possible that
Mrs. Pallinson may be jealously disposed towards any acquaintance of
mine, on account of that paragon of perfection, her son Theobald. I have
not been so blind as not to see her views in that quarter. But be
assured, Mr. Fenton, that whatever may happen to me, I shall never become
Mrs. Theobald Pallinson."

"I hope not. I am quite ready to acknowled