ould not have seemed so unpardonable. But that is as it
may be. After what you said there is only one course left for a
man who has any pride--and that is to withdraw. So let the past be
dead between us. I shall never allude to it again. Wishing you
happiness in the path of life which you have chosen,

"I remain,
"Your affectionate cousin,
"George Caresfoot."

It would have been difficult for any one to have received a more
perfectly satisfactory letter than this was to Angela.

"Pigott," she called out, feeling the absolute necessity of a
confidant in her joy, and forgetting that that worthy soul had nothing
but the most general knowledge of George's advances, "he has given me
up; just think, he is going to let me alone. I declare that I feel
quite fond of him."

"And who might you be talking of, miss?"

"Why, my cousin George, of course; he is going to let me alone, I tell
you."

"Which, seeing how as he isn't fit to touch you with a pair of tongs,
is about the least as he can do, miss, and, as for letting you alone,
I didn't know as he ever proposed doing anything else. But that
reminds me, miss, though I am sure I don't know why it should, how as
Mrs. Hawkins, as was put in to look after the vicarage while the
Reverend Fraser was away, told me last night how as she had got a
telegraft the sight of which, she said, knocked her all faint like,
till she turned just as yellow as the cover, to say nothing of four-
and-six porterage, the which, however, she intends to recover from the
Reverend--Lord, where was I?"

"I am sure I don't know, Pigott, but I suppose you were going to tell
me what was in the telegram."

"Yes, miss, that's right; but my head does seem to wool up somehow so
at times that I fare to lose my way."

"Well, Pigott, what was in the telegram?"

"Lord, miss, how you do hurry one, begging your pardon; only that the
Reverend Fraser--not but what Mrs. Hawkins do say that it can't be
true, because the words warn't in his writing nor nothing like, as she
has good reason to know, seeing that----"

"Yes, but what about Mr. Fraser, Pigott? Isn't he well?"

"The telegraft didn't say, as I remembers, miss; bless me, I forget if
it was to-day or to-morrow."

"Oh, Pigott," groaned Angela, "do tell me what was in the telegram."

"Why, miss, surely I told you that the thing said, though I fan