nd Lopez was proved. He could take no pride in his rejected
love. He would rid himself of it at a moment's notice if he knew the
way. He would throw himself at the feet of some second-rate, tawdry,
well-born, well-known beauty of the day,--only that there was not now
left to him strength to pretend the feeling that would be necessary.
Then he heard steps, and jumping up from his seat, stood just in the
way of Emily Wharton and her cousin Mary. "Ain't you going to dress
for dinner, young man?" said the latter.

"I shall have time if you have, any way," said Arthur, endeavouring
to pluck up his spirits.

"That's nice of him;--isn't it?" said Mary. "Why, we are dressed.
What more do you want? We came out to look for you, though we didn't
mean to come as far as this. It's past seven now, and we are supposed
to dine at a quarter past."

"Five minutes will do for me."

"But you've got to get to the house. You needn't be in a tremendous
hurry, because papa has only just come in from haymaking. They've got
up the last load, and there has been the usual ceremony. Emily and I
have been looking at them."

"I wish I'd been here all the time," said Emily. "I do so hate London
in July."

"So do I," said Arthur,--"in July and all other times."

"You hate London!" said Mary.

"Yes,--and Herefordshire,--and other places generally. If I've got to
dress I'd better get across the park as quick as I can go," and so
he left them. Mary turned round and looked at her cousin, but at the
moment said nothing. Arthur's passion was well known to Mary Wharton,
but Mary had as yet heard nothing of Ferdinand Lopez.

CHAPTER XVI

Never Run Away!

During the whole of that evening there was a forced attempt on the
part of all the party at Wharton Hall to be merry,--which, however,
as is the case whenever such attempts are forced, was a failure.
There had been a hay-making harvest-home which was supposed to give
the special occasion for mirth, as Sir Alured farmed the land around
the park himself, and was great in hay. "I don't think it pays very
well," he said with a gentle smile, "but I like to employ some of the
people myself. I think the old people find it easier with me than
with the tenants."

"I shouldn't wonder," said his cousin;--"but that's charity; not
employment."

"No, no," exclaimed the baronet. "They work for their wages and do
their best. Powell sees to that." Powell was the bailiff, who knew
the length of his ma