nothing was said
about them, and the letter was at last sealed up and intrusted to
his care for the post-bag. There was very little in it that could
have interested Augustus Staveley or any one else. It contained the
ordinary, but no more than the ordinary terms of affection. He told
her that he found it impracticable to move himself quite immediately.
And then as to that cause of displeasure,--that cause of supposed
displeasure as to which both Mary and Mrs. Thomas had written, he
declared that he did not believe that anything had been done that he
should not find it easy to forgive after so long an absence.

Augustus then remained there for another hour, but not a word was
said between the young men on that subject which was nearest, at the
moment, to the hearts of both of them. Each was thinking of Madeline,
but neither of them spoke as though any such subject were in their
thoughts.

"Heaven and earth!" said Augustus at last, pulling out his watch. "It
only wants three minutes to seven. I shall have a dozen messages from
the judge before I get down, to know whether he shall come and help
me change my boots. I'll see you again before I go to bed. Good-bye,
old fellow." And then Graham was again alone.

If Lady Staveley were really angry with him for loving her
daughter,--if his friend Staveley were in very truth determined
that such love must under no circumstances be sanctioned,--would
they treat him as they were treating him? Would they under such
circumstances make his prolonged stay in the house an imperative
necessity? He could not help asking himself this question, and
answering it with some gleam of hope. And then he acknowledged
to himself that it was ungenerous in him to do so. His remaining
there,--the liberty to remain there which had been conceded to
him,--had arisen solely from the belief that a removal in his present
state would be injudicious. He assured himself of this over and over
again, so that no false hope might linger in his heart. And yet hope
did linger there whether false or true. Why might he not aspire to
the hand of Madeline Staveley,--he who had been assured that he need
regard no woman as too high for his aspirations?

"Mrs. Baker," he said that evening, as that excellent woman was
taking away his tea-things, "I have not heard Miss Staveley's voice
these two days."

"Well, no; no more you have," said she. "There's two ways, you know,
Mr. Graham, of going to her part of the house.