ne or said in that locality until after Lady Mason's
trial.

It may be imagined that poor Madeline was not very happy. Felix had
gone away, having made no sign, and she knew that her mother rejoiced
that he had so gone. She never accused her mother of cruelty, even
within her own heart. She seemed to realise to herself the assurance
that a marriage with the man she loved was a happiness which she had
no right to expect. She knew that her father was rich. She was aware
that in all probability her own fortune would be considerable. She
was quite sure that Felix Graham was clever and fit to make his way
through the world. And yet she did not think it hard that she should
be separated from him. She acknowledged from the very first that he
was not the sort of man whom she ought to have loved, and therefore
she was prepared to submit.

It was, no doubt, the fact that Felix Graham had never whispered
to her a word of love, and that therefore, on that ground, she had
no excuse for hope. But, had that been all, she would not have
despaired. Had that been all, she might have doubted, but her doubt
would have been strongly mingled with the sweetness of hope. He had
never whispered a syllable of love, but she had heard the tone of his
voice as she spoke a word to him at his chamber door; she had seen
his eyes as they fell on her when he was lifted into the carriage;
she had felt the tremor of his touch on that evening when she walked
up to him across the drawing-room and shook hands with him. Such a
girl as Madeline Staveley does not analyze her feelings on such a
matter, and then draw her conclusions. But a conclusion is drawn; the
mind does receive an impression; and the conclusion and impression
are as true as though they had been reached by the aid of logical
reasoning. Had the match been such as her mother would have approved,
she would have had a hope as to Felix Graham's love--strong enough
for happiness.

As it was, there was no use in hoping; and therefore she
resolved--having gone through much logical reasoning on this
head--that by her all ideas of love must be abandoned. As regarded
herself, she must be content to rest by her mother's side as a flower
ungathered. That she could marry no man without the approval of her
father and mother was a thing to her quite certain; but it was, at
any rate, as certain that she could marry no man without her own
approval. Felix Graham was beyond her reach. That verdict she herself