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church. "I have yet to understand that Mr. Prosper is owner of the
church, and the path there from the rectory is, at any rate, open to the
public;" for at Buston the church stands on one corner of the park.

This went on for two or three days, during which nothing farther was
said by the family as to Harry's woes. A letter was sent off to Mrs.
Brown, telling her that the lodgings would not be required any longer,
and anxious ideas began to crowd themselves on Harry's mind as to his
future residence. He thought that he must go back to Cambridge and take
his rooms at St. John's and look for college work. Two fatal years,
years of idleness and gayety, had been passed, but still he thought that
it might be possible. What else was there open for him? And then, as he
roamed about the fields, his mind naturally ran away to the girl he
loved. How would he dare again to look Florence in the face? It was not
only the two hundred and fifty pounds per annum that was gone: that
would have been a small income on which to marry. And he had never taken
the girl's own money into account. He had rather chosen to look forward
to the position as squire of Buston, and to take it for granted that it
would not be very long before he was called upon to fill the position.
He had said not a word to Florence about money, but it was thus that he
had regarded the matter. Now the existing squire was going to marry, and
the matter could not so be regarded any longer. He saw half a dozen
little Prospers occupying half a dozen little cradles, and a whole suite
of nurseries established at the Hall. The name of Prosper would be fixed
at Buston, putting it altogether beyond his reach.

In such circumstances would it not be reasonable that Florence should
expect him to authorize her to break their engagement? What was he now
but the penniless son of a poor clergyman, with nothing on which to
depend but a miserable stipend, which must cease were he to marry? He
knew that he ought to give her back her troth; and yet, as he thought of
doing so, he was indignant with her. Was love to come to this? Was her
regard for him to be counted as nothing? What right had he to expect
that she should be different from any other girl?

Then he was more miserable than ever, as he told himself that such would
undoubtedly be her conduct. As he walked across the fields, heavy with
the mud of a wet October day, there came down a storm of rain which wet
him through. Who doe