ng fellow, with black hair, she might
have thought that precaution less necessary.

"First, madam," said Oldfield, "I must beg you to accept my apologies
for not coming sooner. Press of business, etc."

"Why have you come at all? That is the question," inquired the lady,
bluntly.

"I bring the draft of a deed for your approval. Shall I read it to
you?"

"Yes; if it is not very long." He began to read it. The lady
interrupted him characteristically.

"It's a beastly rigmarole. What does it mean--in three words?"

"Sir Charles Bassett secures to Rhoda Somerset four hundred pounds a
year, while single; this is reduced to two hundred if you marry. The
deed further assigns to you, without reserve, the beneficial lease of
this house, and all the furniture and effects, plate, linen, wine,
etc."

"I see--a bribe."

"Nothing of the kind, madam. When Sir Charles instructed me to prepare
this deed he expected no opposition on your part to his marriage; but
he thought it due to him and to yourself to mark his esteem for you,
and his recollection of the pleasant hours he has spent in your
company."

Miss Somerset's eyes searched the lawyer's face. He stood the battery
unflinchingly. She altered her tone, and asked, politely and almost
respectfully, whether she might see that paper.

Mr. Oldfield gave it her. She took it, and ran her eye over it; in
doing which, she raised it so that she could think behind it
unobserved. She handed it back at last, with the remark that Sir
Charles was a gentleman and had done the right thing.

"He has; and you will do the right thing too, will you not?"

"I don't know. I am just beginning to fall in love with him myself."

"Jealousy, madam, not love," said the old lawyer. "Come, now! I see you
are a young lady of rare good sense; look the thing in the face: Sir
Charles is a landed gentleman; he must marry, and, have heirs. He is
over thirty, and his time has come. He has shown himself your friend;
why not be his? He has given you the means to marry a gentleman of
moderate income, or to marry beneath you, if you prefer it--"

"And most of us do--"

"Then why not make his path smooth? Why distress him with your tears
and remonstrances?"

He continued in this strain for some time, appealing to her good sense
and her better feelings.

When he had done she said, very quietly, "How about the ponies and my
brown mare? Are they down in the deed?"

"I think not; but if you will do yo