the petition; but she, mistaking him,
frankly spoke of the personal part. "He said--what I have implied.
Should I tell more plainly?"

"Oh no--don't, if it is a secret."

"Not at all. I will tell every word, straight out, Giles, if you wish.
He said I was to encourage you. There. But I cannot obey him further
to-day. Come, let us go now." She gently slid her hand from his, and
went in front of him out of the Abbey.

"I was thinking of getting some dinner," said Winterborne, changing to
the prosaic, as they walked. "And you, too, must require something.
Do let me take you to a place I know."

Grace was almost without a friend in the world outside her father's
house; her life with Fitzpiers had brought her no society; had
sometimes, indeed, brought her deeper solitude and inconsideration than
any she had ever known before. Hence it was a treat to her to find
herself again the object of thoughtful care. But she questioned if to
go publicly to dine with Giles Winterborne were not a proposal, due
rather to his unsophistication than to his discretion. She said gently
that she would much prefer his ordering her lunch at some place and
then coming to tell her it was ready, while she remained in the Abbey
porch. Giles saw her secret reasoning, thought how hopelessly blind to
propriety he was beside her, and went to do as she wished.

He was not absent more than ten minutes, and found Grace where he had
left her. "It will be quite ready by the time you get there," he said,
and told her the name of the inn at which the meal had been ordered,
which was one that she had never heard of.

"I'll find it by inquiry," said Grace, setting out.

"And shall I see you again?"

"Oh yes--come to me there. It will not be like going together. I
shall want you to find my father's man and the gig for me."

He waited on some ten minutes or a quarter of an hour, till he thought
her lunch ended, and that he might fairly take advantage of her
invitation to start her on her way home. He went straight to The Three
Tuns--a little tavern in a side street, scrupulously clean, but humble
and inexpensive. On his way he had an occasional misgiving as to
whether the place had been elegant enough for her; and as soon as he
entered it, and saw her ensconced there, he perceived that he had
blundered.

Grace was seated in the only dining-room that the simple old hostelry
could boast of, which was also a general parlor on market-days; a