early dinner at the
vicarage. Mary had made many resolutions as to this walk. She would
talk much, so that it might not be tedious and melancholy to him; she
would praise everything, and show the interest which she took in the
house and grounds; she would ask questions, and display no hesitation
as to claiming her own future share of possession in all that
belonged to him. She went off at once as soon as she was through the
wicket gate, asking questions as to the division of the property of
the parish between the two owners, as to this field and that field,
and the little wood which they passed, till her sharp intelligence
told her that she was over-acting her part. He was no actor,
but unconsciously he perceived her effort; and he resented it,
unconsciously also, by short answers and an uninterested tone. She
was aware of it all, and felt that there had been a mistake. It
would be better for her to leave the play in his hands, and to adapt
herself to his moods.

"We had better go straight up to the house," he said, as soon as the
pathway had led them off Lord Trowbridge's land into his own domain.

"I think we had," said she.

"If we go round by the stables it will make us late for Fenwick's
dinner."

"We ought to be back by half-past two," she said. They had left the
church exactly at half-past twelve, and were therefore to be together
for two hours.

He took her over the house. The showing of a house in such
circumstances is very trying, both to the man and to the woman. He is
weighted by a mixed load of pride in his possession and of assumed
humility. She, to whom every detail of the future nest is so vitally
important, is almost bound to praise, though every encomium she
pronounces will be a difficulty in the way of those changes which
she contemplates. But on the present occasion Mary contemplated
no change. Marrying this man, as she was about to do, professedly
without loving him, she was bound to take everything else as she
found it. The dwelling rooms of the house she had known before; the
dining-room, the drawing-room, and the library. She was now taken
into his private chamber, where he sat as a magistrate, and paid his
men, and kept his guns and fishing-rods. Here she sat down for a
moment, and when he had told her this and that,--how he was always
here for so long in the morning, and how he hoped that she would come
to him sometimes when he was thus busy, he came and stood over her,
putting his hand