where to turn for the cash. In his
bluffest and heartiest way Blake refused to hear of such a thing.

"No, no, my Lord, let it stand. Your son will repay me one day, and if
he doesn't, what will a trifle like that matter?"

"He certainly shall repay you. But all the same, Mr. Blake, you have
behaved very well and I thank you much," replied his Lordship
courteously.

Thus did John Blake become an intimate of that aristocratic family.

Now Lord Lynfield, who was a widower, had one unmarried daughter. She
was an odd and timid little person, with strong religious views, who
adored secretly a high-church curate in London. This, indeed, was the
reason why she had been brought to Essex when her infatuation was
discovered by one of her married sisters, who, like the rest of the
family, was extremely "low." Lady Jane was small in body and shrinking
and delicate in character, somewhat mouselike indeed. Even her eyes
were large and timid as are those of a mouse. In her John Blake
perceived the exact _parti_ whom he desired for a wife.

It is not necessary to follow the pitiful story to its inevitable end,
one, happily, more common at that time than it is to-day. Mr. Blake
played the earnest, ardent lover, and on all occasions proclaimed his
own unworthiness at the top of his loud voice. Also he hinted at large
settlements to the married sisters, who put the matter before Jane very
plainly indeed. In the end, after a few words with her father, who
pointed out that the provision which could be made for her was but
small, and that he would die more happily if he knew her to be
comfortably settled in life with a really trustworthy and generous man
such as Mr. Blake had proved himself to be, she gave way, and in due
course they were married.

In fact, the tragedy was complete, since Jane loathed her husband,
whose real nature she had read from the beginning, as much as she
adored the high-church curate from whom in some terrible hour she
parted with broken words. Even when he died a few years later, she
continued to adore him, so much that her one hope was that she might
meet him again in the land where there is no marrying or giving in
marriage. But all of this she kept locked in her poor little heart, and
meanwhile did her duty by her husband with an untroubled brow, though
those mouse-like eyes of hers grew ever more piteous.

He, for his part, did not do his duty by her. Of one side of his
conduct she was careless, being t