other. But she'll give up
her school, and that's a nuisance.'

'There are others as good.'

'But not here. Another removal, I suppose.--When is it to be?'

'Not till the Easter holidays.'

They were in the library. Harvey began to fill his pipe, and nothing
more was said until he had drawn a few meditative puffs.

'Another removal,' then escaped him, with half a groan.

'Why should you care?' asked Alma thoughtfully. 'You don't like this
place.'

'As well as any other. It's convenient for town.'

'Do you really think of going on in that business, which you detest?'

'It has brought in a little money, and may--ought to--bring more. But
if Morphew goes down----'

Alma glanced at him, and said timidly----

'You are going to Greystone at Easter.'

'We shall all go. What of that?'

'Haven't you'--she spoke with an effort--'sometimes thought you would
like to live there?'

'Great heavens--Alma!'

He stared at her in humorous astonishment, then slowly shook his head.
How could _she_ live in such a place as Greystone? And what on earth
did she mean by disturbing him with such a suggestion? But Alma,
gravely and repeatedly, assured him that she could live there very
well; that in all likelihood she would be much more contented there
than here.

'I should bring out my violin again, and the Greystone people would
admire me. There's a confession--to prove that I am in earnest. I can't
conquer the world; I don't wish it; that's all over. But I should find
it pleasant to have a reputation in Greystone--I should indeed.'

Harvey sighed, and could not look at her.

'And Hughie,' she continued, 'would go to the Grammar-School. You know
how you would like that. And living there is cheap; we might keep our
horse again.--Don't say anything now, but think about it.'

He raised his eyes, and fixed them upon her with a look of infinite
tenderness and gratitude. It was Alma now who sighed, but not audibly.

Before Thistlewood went north again, Harvey enjoyed long talks with
him. Mary Abbott he saw only in the presence of other people. But on an
evening in February, when Alma was at the Langlands' and he had
promised to call for her at ten o'clock, he left home an hour earlier
and walked past Mrs. Abbott's house. A light in the window of her
sitting-room showed that Mary was at home. After a turn or two
backwards and forwards, he went up to the door and knocked. A very
young servant took his name to her mistress, and t