impersonation of rank and breeding--of wealth
and prosperity. What a contrast, in a woman's eyes, to the shy, pale,
melancholy man, in the ill-fitting black clothes, with the wandering,
uneasy glances, who stood beneath him, and felt, and showed that he
felt, his inferior position keenly! In spite of herself, the treacherous
blush flew over Isabel's face, in Moody's presence, and with Moody's
eyes distrustfully watching her.

"This is a piece of good fortune that I hardly hoped for," said
Hardyman, his cool, quiet, dreary way of speaking quickened as usual,
in Isabel's presence. "I only got back from France this morning, and
I called on Lady Lydiard in the hope of seeing you. She was not at
home--and you were in the country--and the servants didn't know the
address. I could get nothing out of them, except that you were on a
visit to a relation." He looked at Moody while he was speaking. "Haven't
I seen you before?" he said, carelessly. "Yes; at Lady Lydiard's. You're
her steward, are you not? How d'ye do?" Moody, with h is eyes on the
ground, answered silently by a bow. Hardyman, perfectly indifferent
whether Lady Lydiard's steward spoke or not, turned on his saddle and
looked admiringly at Isabel. "I begin to think I am a lucky man at
last," he went on with a smile. "I was jogging along to my farm, and
despairing of ever seeing Miss Isabel again--and Miss Isabel herself
meets me at the roadside! I wonder whether you are as glad to see me as
I am to see you? You won't tell me--eh? May I ask you something else?
Are you staying in our neighborhood?"

There was no alternative before Isabel but to answer this last question.
Hardyman had met her out walking, and had no doubt drawn the inevitable
inference--although he was too polite to say so in plain words.

"Yes, sir," she answered, shyly, "I am staying in this neighborhood."

"And who is your relation?" Hardyman proceeded, in his easy,
matter-of-course way. "Lady Lydiard told me, when I had the pleasure of
meeting you at her house, that you had an aunt living in the country.
I have a good memory, Miss Isabel, for anything that I hear about You!
It's your aunt, isn't it? Yes? I know everybody about hew. What is your
aunt's name?"

Isabel, still resting her hand on Robert's arm, felt it tremble a little
as Hardyman made this last inquiry. If she had been speaking to one of
her equals she would have known how to dispose of the question without
directly answering it. Bu