ntempt for men who love them with such blind unreasonable
idolatry."

"I do not know how that may be; but I know that I have always respected
and esteemed you," she answered in her gentle pleading way.

"I am grateful to you even for so much as that. And now I suppose I must
say good-bye--rather a hard word to say under the circumstances. Heaven
knows when you and I may meet again."

"Won't you stop and take some luncheon? I dine early when my husband is
away; it saves trouble to the people of the house. The bailiff's daughter
always dines with me when I am alone; but I don't suppose you will mind
sitting down with her. She is a good girl, and very fond of me."

"I would sit down to dinner with a chimney-sweep, if he were a favourite
of yours, Marian--or Mrs. Holbrook; I suppose I must call you that now."

After this they talked of Captain Sedgewick for a little, and the tears
came to Marian's eyes as she spoke of that generous and faithful
protector. While they were talking thus, the door was opened, and a
bright-faced countrified-looking girl appeared carrying a tray. She was
dressed in a simple pretty fashion, a little above her station as a
bailiff's daughter, and had altogether rather a superior look, in spite
of her rusticity, Gilbert thought.

She was quite at her ease in his presence, laying the cloth briskly and
cleverly, and chattering all the time.

"I am sure I'm very glad any visitor should come to see Mrs. Holbrook,"
she said; "for she has had a sad lonely time of it ever since she has
been here, poor dear. There are not many young married women would put up
with such a life."

"Nelly," Marian exclaimed reproachfully, "you know that I have had
nothing to put up with--that I have been quite happy here."

"Ah, it's all very well to say that, Mrs. Holbrook; but I know better. I
know how many lonely days you've spent, so downhearted that you could
scarcely speak or look up from your book, and that only an excuse for
fretting.--If you're a friend of Mr. Holbrook's, you might tell him as
much, sir; that he's killing his pretty young wife by inches, by leaving
her so often alone in this dreary place. Goodness knows, it isn't that I
want to get rid of her. I like her so much that I sha'n't know what to do
with myself when she's gone. But I love her too well not to speak the
truth when I see a chance of its getting to the right ears."

"I am no friend of Mr. Holbrook's," Gilbert answered; "but I think you