d me, the elderly lady bent forward from her horse and
said to her daughter, loud enough for me to hear. "Ella, who is that
handsome young man?--he looks a gentleman."

"Far from that, Mamma," returned the young lady saucily. "It is my
uncle's gamekeeper, Noah Cotton. The lad I once told you about. He is
grown very handsome. But what a name, Noah," and she laughed--such a
merry mocking laugh. "It is enough to drown any pretensions to good
looks."

"How came you to know the man, Ella?" said her brother gravely.

"Oh, George, you know Uncle is not over particular. An aristocrat with
regard to his game, and any infringement on his rights on that score,
but a perfect democrat in his familiarity with his domestics and
tenants. He used to send for this Noah to play with us during the
holidays. He was a beautiful, curly-headed lad; and we treated him with
too much condescension, but it was Uncle's fault;--he should have known
that the boy was no companion for young people in our rank. This saucy,
spoilt boy, had not only the impudence to fall in love with me, but to
tell me so to my face."

"The scoundrel!" muttered the young man.

"Of course I never spoke to him again. I complained to Uncle, and he
only treated it as a joke. It is a pity," she added, in a less boastful
and haughty tone, "that he is not a gentleman: he is a handsome,
noble-looking peasant."

They rode out of hearing, leaving me rooted to the spot. The sudden turn
in the path had hidden me from their observation, and brought them and
the theme of their conversation too terribly near.

Miss Ella's description of me cut into my heart, and stung me like an
adder. I pressed my hand upon my burning brain,--upon my aching heart, I
tried to tear her image from both. Vain effort! Passion had done its
work effectually. The limning of years could not be effaced by the
desecrating power of mortified vanity.

I saw her many times during that visit to the Hall; but, beyond raising
my cap respectfully when she passed me, no word of recognition ever
escaped from my lips. Once or twice I thought, from her manner, and the
earnest way in which she regarded me, that she almost wished me to speak
to her.

Her horse ran away with her one morning in the park, and she lost her
seat, but received no serious injury. I caught the animal, and helped
her to remount. Our eyes met, and she blushed very deeply, and her hand
trembled as it lay for a moment in mine. Trifling as thes