ne word conveyed every vision of earthly beauty which
mortal could desire to behold--as, indeed, it does. And again she
added, "But I don't know what my sisters-in-law would say. It would be
against all the traditions."

"Surely Lady Belstone, at least, must be less absurdly narrow-minded,"
said John, almost impatiently.

"Shall I tell you the history of her marriage?" said Lady Mary.

Her pretty laugh rang out softly in the darkness, and thrilled
John's heart, and shocked yet further the old ladies who sat within,
straining their ears for the sound of returning footsteps.

"It took place about forty years ago or less. A cousin of her
mother's, Sir William Belstone, came to spend a few days here. I
believe the poor man invited himself, because he happened to be
staying in the neighbourhood. He was a gallant old sailor, and very
polite to both his cousins; and one day Isabella interpreted his
compliments into a proposal of marriage. Georgina has given me to
understand that no one was ever more astounded and terrified than the
admiral when he found himself engaged to Isabella. But apparently he
was a chivalrous old gentleman, and would not disappoint her. It is
really rather a sad little story, because he died of heart disease
very soon after the marriage. Old Mrs. Ash, the housekeeper, always
declares her mistress came home even more old-maidish in her ways than
she went away, and that she quarrelled with the poor admiral from
morning till night. Perhaps that is why she has never lightened her
garb of woe. And she makes my life a burden to me because I won't wear
a cap. Ah! how heartless it all sounds, and yet how ridiculous! Dear
Cousin John, haven't I bored you? Let us go in."

With characteristic energy John Crewys set in hand the repairs which
he had declared to be so necessary.

The late squire had apparently been as well aware of the neglected
state of his ancestral halls as of his tangled and overgrown woods;
but he had also, it seemed, been unable to make up his mind to take
any steps towards amending the condition of either--or to part with
his ever-increasing balance at his bankers'.

Sir Timothy had carried both his obstinacy and his dullness into his
business affairs.

The family solicitor, Mr. Crawley, backed up the new administrator
with all his might.

"Over sixty thousand pounds uninvested, and lying idle at the bank,"
he said, lifting his hands and eyes, "and one long, miserable
grumbling ove