ccompanied him to the hall, helped him to put on his overcoat, and
let him out of the house herself.

'Good-night,' said Barnet, on the doorstep, as the lamp shone in his
face. 'You are not offended with me?'

'Certainly not. Nor you with me?'

'I'll consider whether I am or not,' he pleasantly replied. 'Good-night.'

She watched him safely through the gate; and when his footsteps had died
away upon the road, closed the door softly and returned to the room. Here
the modest widow long pondered his speeches, with eyes dropped to an
unusually low level. Barnet's urbanity under the blow of her refusal
greatly impressed her. After having his long period of probation
rendered useless by her decision, he had shown no anger, and had
philosophically taken her words as if he deserved no better ones. It was
very gentlemanly of him, certainly; it was more than gentlemanly; it was
heroic and grand. The more she meditated, the more she questioned the
virtue of her conduct in checking him so peremptorily; and went to her
bedroom in a mood of dissatisfaction. On looking in the glass she was
reminded that there was not so much remaining of her former beauty as to
make his frank declaration an impulsive natural homage to her cheeks and
eyes; it must undoubtedly have arisen from an old staunch feeling of his,
deserving tenderest consideration. She recalled to her mind with much
pleasure that he had told her he was staying at the Black-Bull Hotel; so
that if, after waiting a day or two, he should not, in his modesty, call
again, she might then send him a nice little note. To alter her views
for the present was far from her intention; but she would allow herself
to be induced to reconsider the case, as any generous woman ought to do.

The morrow came and passed, and Mr. Barnet did not drop in. At every
knock, light youthful hues flew across her cheek; and she was abstracted
in the presence of her other visitors. In the evening she walked about
the house, not knowing what to do with herself; the conditions of
existence seemed totally different from those which ruled only four-and-
twenty short hours ago. What had been at first a tantalizing elusive
sentiment was getting acclimatized within her as a definite hope, and her
person was so informed by that emotion that she might almost have stood
as its emblematical representative by the time the clock struck ten. In
short, an interest in Barnet precisely resembling that of her