rhouse! What a pleasant sound it has! But oh, not a word at
home! I dare not tell them aught till Culverhouse be by my side. I
misdoubt me that I did right to let him persuade me thus; and yet I
could not say him nay, and I longed to hear the words spoken that
should bind us to each other. But I dare not tell my father! I trow
both he and my mother would chide full sternly. In truth, I fear me
it were scarce a maidenly act. But, O Cuthbert, love is so
strong--so hard a task master. Where he drives, it seems that one
needs must go;" and she looked up at him with such arch appeal that
he felt those glances would go far to soften the sternest parental
heart.

"In truth, I believe thee, fair coz, and I will keep thy secret
faithfully. It is safe with me; and I trust that all will end
happily when the lost treasure shall return to the house of
Trevlyn."

And talking eagerly upon this theme, which was also to be kept
secret from all the world besides, the cousins walked towards the
house. Cuthbert received a warm and hearty greeting from all his
kinsfolks there, who were pleased that he should have kept his
promise and have come to see them with the long days of early
summer.

Sir Richard and his wife were both pleased with the fashion in
which the youth had developed; his intelligence and information
were now plainly apparent, and had taken a fresh impetus from the
new surroundings in which he had found himself. He could talk with
discrimination and insight on all the leading topics of the day,
had plainly lost much of his old rusticity of thought and speech,
and had become an interesting and self-possessed youth.

But his errand was really to Philip, and to him he spoke in private
of his sister's story, and how she had promised to obey her father
and to see him no more. Cuthbert could assure the disappointed
lover that this was no indication of coldness on Petronella's part,
but that it was done from a sense of filial duty, combined with a
fear of some violence on her father's part towards her lover should
he be provoked too far. Cuthbert was as certain as Philip could
wish that Petronella's heart was entirely his. He had read the
girl's secret in the tones of her voice and in the shy glances of
her soft eyes. He told Philip, too, of the gold that was awaiting
the girl in her uncle's keeping, and added that he was certain sure
that Martin Holt would be glad enough to give it over to his niece
if she had a sturdy husb