or came and went.

"You seemed surprised; and so am I. It must have been written two days
ago."

"Yes."

"Why, what on earth could he have to say to you?"

"I suppose it is the reply to mine," stammered Grace.

Mr. Raby looked amazement, and something more.

Grace faltered out an explanation. "When he had saved my life, I was so
grateful I wanted to make him a return. I believed Jael Dence and he--I
have so high an opinion of her--I ventured to give him a hint that he
might find happiness there."

Raby bit his lip. "A most singular interference on the part of a young
lady," said he, stiffly. "You are right, doctor; this age resembles
no other. I suppose you meant it kindly; but I am very sorry you felt
called upon, at your age, to put any such idea into the young man's
head."

"So am I," said poor Grace. "Oh, pray forgive me. I am so unhappy." And
she hid her face in her hands.

"Of course I forgive you," said Raby. "But, unfortunately, I knew
nothing of all this, and went and put him under her charge; and here he
has found a precedent for marrying a Dence--found it on this confounded
brass! Well, no matter. Life is one long disappointment. What does he
say? Where is the letter gone to? It has vanished."

"I have got it safe," said Grace, deprecatingly.

"Then please let me know what he says."

"What, read his letter to you?"

"Why not, pray? I'm his uncle. He is my heir-at-law. I agree with
Amboyne, he has some fine qualities. It is foolish of me, no doubt,
but I am very anxious to know what he says about marrying my tenant's
daughter." Then, with amazing dignity, "Can I be mistaken in thinking
I have a right to know who my nephew intends to marry?" And he began to
get very red.

Grace hung her head, and, trembling a little, drew the letter very
slowly out of her bosom.

It just flashed through her mind how cruel it was to make her read out
the death-warrant of her heart before two men; but she summoned all a
woman's fortitude and self-defense, prepared to hide her anguish under a
marble demeanor, and quietly opened the letter.

CHAPTER XX.

"You advise me to marry one, when I love another; and this, you think,
is the way to be happy. It has seldom proved so, and I should despise
happiness if I could only get it in that way.

"Yours, sadly but devotedly,

"H. LITTLE.

"Will you wait two years?"

Grace, being on her defense, read this letter very slowly, and as if
she had to decip