d too probable that it should be true.
Hunting to him, in his absolute ignorance of what hunting meant,
seemed to be an occupation so full of danger that the wonder was that
the hunting world had not already been exterminated. And then there
was present to him a feeling, as there is to so many of us, that the
grand thing which Fortune seemed to offer him was too good to be
true. It could hardly be that he should live to see his daughter the
mother of a future British peer! He had tried to school himself not
to wish it, telling himself that such wishes were vain, and such
longings wicked; he had said much to himself as to the dangers of
rank and titles and wealth for those who were not born to them. He
had said something also of that family tragedy which had robbed
his own life of most of its joys, and which seemed to have laid so
heavy a burden on his girl's spirit. Going backwards and forwards
morning and evening to his work, he had endeavoured to make his
own heart acknowledge that the marriage was not desirable; but he
had failed;--and had endeavoured to reconcile the failure to his
conscience by telling himself falsely that he as a father had been
anxious only for the welfare of his child. Now he felt the blow
terribly on her account, feeling sure that his girl's heart had been
given to the young man; but he felt it also on his own. It might be,
nevertheless, that the report would prove untrue. Had the matter
been one in which he was not himself so deeply interested, he would
certainly have believed it to be untrue, he being a man by his nature
not prone to easy belief. It would, however, be wiser, he said to
himself as he left the omnibus at the "Duchess of Edinburgh," to
say nothing as yet to Marion. Then he put the paper carefully into
his breast coat pocket, and considered how he might best hide his
feelings as to the sad news. But all this was in vain. The story had
already found its way down to Paradise Row. Mrs. Demijohn was as
greedy of news as her neighbours, and would generally send round the
corner for a halfpenny evening journal. On this occasion she did so,
and within two minutes of the time in which the paper had been put
into her hands exclaimed to her niece almost with ecstasy, "Clara,
what do you think? That young lord who comes here to see Marion Fay
has gone and got himself killed out hunting."

"Lord Hampstead!" shouted Clara. "Got himself killed! Laws, aunt, I
can't believe it!" In her tone, al