ave done it."

"I suppose we must submit to it," said Aunt Sarah, after a pause.
This certainly was not the most exhilarating view which might have
been taken of the matter as far as Mary was concerned; but as it did
not suggest any open opposition to her scheme, and as there was no
refusal to see Walter when he should again appear at Uphill as her
lover, she made no complaint. Miss Marrable went on to inquire how
Sir Gregory would like these plans, which were so diametrically
opposed to his own. As to that, Mary could say nothing. No doubt
Walter would make a clean breast of it to Sir Gregory before he left
Dunripple, and would be able to tell them what had passed when he
came to Loring. Mary, however, did not forget to argue that the
ground on which Walter Marrable stood was his own ground. After the
death of two men, the youngest of whom was over seventy, the property
would be his property, and could not be taken from him. If Sir
Gregory chose to quarrel with him,--as to the probability of which,
Mary and her aunt professed very different opinions,--they must wait.
Waiting now would be very different from what it had been when their
prospects in life had not seemed to depend in any degree upon the
succession to the family property. "And I know myself better now
than I did then," said Mary. "Though it were to be for all my life,
I would wait."

On the Monday she got a letter from her cousin. It was very short,
and there was not a word in it about Sir Gregory or Edith Brownlow.
It only said that he was the happiest man in the world, and that he
would be at Loring on the following Saturday. He must return at once
to Birmingham, but would certainly be at Loring on Saturday. He had
written to his uncle to ask for hospitality. He did not suppose that
Parson John would refuse; but should this be the case, he would put
up at The Dragon. Mary might be quite sure that she would see him on
Saturday.

And on the Saturday he came. The parson had consented to receive him;
but, not thinking highly of the wisdom of the proposed visit, had
worded his letter rather coldly. But of that Walter in his present
circumstances thought but little. He was hardly within the house
before he had told his story. "You haven't heard, I suppose," he
said, "that Mary and I have made it up?"

"How made it up?"

"Well,--I mean that you shall make us man and wife some day."

"But I thought you were to marry Edith Brownlow."

"Who told you that,