lly,

"HENRY LITTLE."

Raby read this, and turned white with rage.

He locked the letter up along with poor Mrs. Little's letters, and
merely said, "I have only one request to make. Never mention the name of
Little to me again."

Dr. Amboyne went home very thoughtful.

That same day Mr. Carden wrote from London to his daughter informing her
he should be at Hillsborough next day to dinner. She got the letter
next morning, and showed it to Mr. Raby. He ordered his carriage after
breakfast for Hillsborough.

This was a blow to Grace. She had been hoping all this time a fair
opportunity might occur for saying something to young Little.

She longed to write to him, and set his heart and her own at rest. But
a great shyness and timidity paralyzed her, and she gave up the idea
of writing, and had hitherto been hoping they might meet, and she might
reinstate herself by some one cunning word. And now the end of it all
was, that she was driven away from Raby Hall without doing any thing but
wish, and sigh, and resolve, and give up her resolutions with a blush.

The carriage passed the farm on its way to Hillsborough. This was
Grace's last chance.

Little was standing at the porch.

A thrill of delight traversed Grace's bosom.

It was followed, however, by a keen pang. Jael Dence sat beside him,
sewing; and Grace saw, in a moment, she was sewing complacently. It
was more than Grace could bear. She pulled the check-string, and the
carriage stopped.

CHAPTER XXI.

Henry Little, at this moment, was in very low spirits. His forge was in
the yard, and a faithful body-guard at his service; but his right arm
was in a sling, and so he was brought to a stand-still; and Coventry was
with Grace at the house; and he, like her, was tortured with jealousies;
and neither knew what the other suffered.

But everything vanished in a flood of joy when the carriage stopped and
that enchanting face looked out at him, covered with blushes, that told
him he could not be indifferent to her.

"Oh, Mr. Little, are you better?"

"I'm all right. But, you see, I can't work."

"Ah, poor arm. But why should you work? Why not accept Mr. Raby's offer?
How proud you are!"

"Should you have thought any better of me if I had?"

"No. I don't want you altered. It would spoil you. You will come and
see us at Woodbine Villa! Only think how many things we have to talk of
now."

"May I?"

"Why, of course."

"And will you wait two y