, and sending some people for me? I
really feel hardly equal to fresh exertion just yet."

This proposal brought a flush of pleasure to Henry's cheek, and
mortified Mr. Coventry cruelly in his turn.

"What, go and leave you here? Surely you can not be serious."

"Oh, I don't wish you to leave me. Only you seemed in a hurry."

Henry was miserable again.

Coventry did not let well alone, he alluded delicately but tenderly to
what had passed between them, and said he could not bear her out of his
sight until she was safe at Raby. The words and the tone were those of a
lover, and Henry was in agony: thereupon Grace laughed it off, "Not bear
me out of your sight!" said she. "Why, you ran away from me, and tumbled
into the river. Ha! ha! ha! And" (very seriously) "we should both be in
another world but for Mr. Little."

"You are very cruel," said Mr. Coventry. "When you gave up in despair, I
ran for help. You punish me for failure; punish me savagely."

"Yes, I was ungenerous," said Grace. "Forgive me." But she said it
rather coolly, and not with a very penitent air.

She added an explanation more calculated to please Henry than him. "Your
gallantry is always graceful; and it is charming, in a drawing-room; but
in this wild place, and just after escaping the grave, let us talk like
sensible people. If you and I set out for Raby Hall alone, we shall lose
our way again, and perish, to a certainty. But I think Mr. Little must
know the way to Raby Hall."

"Oh, then," said Coventry, catching at her idea, "perhaps Mr. Little
would add to the great obligation, under which he has laid us both, by
going to Raby Hall and sending assistance hither."

"I can't do that," said Henry, roughly.

"And that is not at all what I was going to propose," said Grace,
quietly. "But perhaps you would be so good as to go with us to Raby
Hall? Then I should feel safe; and I want Mr. Raby to thank you, for I
feel how cold and unmeaning all I have said to you is; I seem to have no
words." Her voice faltered, and her sweet eyes filled.

"Miss Carden," said the young man, gravely, "I can't do that. Mr. Raby
is no friend of mine, and he is a bigoted old man, who would turn me out
of this place if he knew. Come, now, when you talk about gratitude to me
for not letting you be starved to death, you make me blush. Is there a
man in the world that wouldn't? But this I do say; it would be rather
hard if you two were to go away, and cut my throat in r