the will, and that I really had no power to release them;
and I hoped that Uncle Silas also understood all this.

'And now,' said he, 'we've returned to Grange, my sister and I, and it is
nearer than Elverston, so that we are really neighbours; and Mary wants
Lady Knollys to fix a time she owes us a visit, you know--and you really
must come at the same time; it will be so very pleasant, the same party
exactly meeting in a new scene; and we have not half explored our
neighbourhood; and I've got down all those Spanish engravings I told you
of, and the Venetian missals, and all the rest. I think I remember very
accurately the things you were most interested by, and they're all there;
and really you must promise, you and Miss Millicent Ruthyn. And I forgot to
mention--you know you complained that you were ill supplied with books,
so Mary thought you would allow her to share her supply--they are the new
books, you know--and when you have read yours, you and she can exchange.'

What girl was ever quite frank about her likings? I don't think I was more
of a cheat than others; but I never could tell of myself. It is quite true
that this duplicity and reserve seldom deceives. Our hypocrisies are forced
upon some of our sex by the acuteness and vigilance of all in this field of
enquiry; but if we are sly, we are also lynx-eyed, capital detectives, most
ingenious in fitting together the bits and dovetails of a cumulative case;
and in those affairs of love and liking, have a terrible exploratory
instinct, and so, for the most part, when detected we are found out not
only to be in love, but to be rogues moreover.

Lady Mary was very kind; but had Lady Mary of her own mere motion taken all
this trouble? Was there no more energetic influence at the bottom of
that welcome chest of books, which arrived only half an hour later? The
circulating library of those days was not the epidemic and ubiquitous
influence to which it has grown; and there were many places where it could
not find you out.

Altogether that evening Bartram had acquired a peculiar beauty--a bright
and mellow glow, in which even its gate-posts and wheelbarrow were
interesting, and next day came a little cloud--Dudley appeared.

'You may be sure he wants money,' said Milly. 'He and father had words this
morning.'

He took a chair at our luncheon, found fault with everything in his own
laconic dialect, ate a good deal notwithstanding, and was sulky, and with
Milly sna