out to give. It was a subject calculated to
excite volubility, and Henry could not get in a word edgewise. But he
received some kind glances that made his heart beat.

The young lady sat there and gabbled; for she felt sure that no topic
imported by a male creature could compete in interest with "the ball."
So, at last, Henry rose in despair. But Grace, to whom her own ball had
been a bore for the last half hour, went with him to the door; and he
seized the opportunity to tell her he was a workmen no longer, but a
master, having workmen under him.

Grace saw he was jubilant, so she was glad directly, and said so.

But then she shook her pretty head, and hoped he would not have to
regret Mr. Raby's offer.

"Never," said he, firmly; "unless I lose you. Now I'm a master, instead
of a man, won't you wait two years for me?"

"No," said Grace, archly. Then, with a look that sent him to heaven,
"Not two, but TWENTY, sooner than you should be unhappy, after all you
and I--"

The sentence was never completed. She clapped one hand swiftly before
her scarlet face, and ran away to hide, and think of what she had done.
It was full five minutes before she would bring her face under the eye
of that young gossip in the drawing-room.

As for Henry, he received the blow full in his heart, and it quite
staggered him. He couldn't believe it at first; but when he realized
it, waves and waves of joy seemed to rise inside him, and he went off in
such a rapture he hardly trod the earth.

He went home, and kissed his mother, and told her, and she sympathized
with him perforce, though she was jealous at bottom, poor thing.

The next day Grace received an unexpected visitor--Jael Dence.

Grace stared at sight of her, and received her very coldly.

"Oh, miss," said Jael, "don't look so at me that love you dearly;" and
with this threw her arms round her neck, and kissed her.

Grace was moved by this; but felt uncomfortable, and even struggled
a little, but in vain. Jael was gentle, but mighty. "It's about your
letter, miss."

"Then let me go," cried Grace. "I wish I had never written it."

"Nay; don't say so. I should never have known how good you are."

"What a fool I am, you mean. How dare you read my letter? Oh! did he
show it you? That was very cruel, if he did."

"No, miss, he never showed it me; and I never read it. I call it mean
to read another body's letter. But, you know, 'tisn't every woman
thinks so: and a poor lass