fer. I got three lines from him, very dry and concise,
saying 'no' to me. Of course I trust to your discretion never to
disclose the negotiation in any way. I myself shall never speak of it;
indeed, I am very little given to doing civil things, and even less
accustomed to finding them ill-received, so that my secrecy is insured."

"He ought not to have refused," said she, thoughtfully.

"Perhaps not."

"He ought certainly to have given the matter more consideration. I wish
I could have been consulted by him. Is it too late yet?"

"I suspect it is," said he, dryly. "First of all, as I told you, I am
little in the habit of meeting a repulse; and, secondly, there is no
time to renew the negotiation. I must leave this to-day."

"To-day?"

"Within an hour," added he, looking at his watch; "I must manage to
reach Dublin in time to catch the mail-packet to-morrow morning."

"This is very sudden, this determination."

"Yes, I am called away by tidings I received awhile ago,--tidings of, to
me, the deepest importance."

"Mark will be extremely sorry," said she, in a low tone.

"Not sorrier than I am," said he, despondently.

"We all counted on your coming back with us to the Abbey; and it was
only awhile ago Bella begged that we should wait here for a day or two,
that we might return together, a family party."

"What a flattery there is in the phrase!" said he, with deep feeling.

"You don't know," continued she, "what a favorite you are with my
mother. I dare not trust myself to repeat how she speaks of you."

"Why will you multiply my regrets, Mrs. Trafford? Why will you make my
parting so very, very painful?"

"Because I prefer that you should stay; because I speak in the name of a
whole house who will be afflicted at your going."

"You have told me of all save one," said be, in a voice of deepest
feeling; "I want to learn what she thinks."

"She thinks that if Mr. Maitland's good-nature be only on a par with his
other qualities, he would sooner face the tiresomeness of a stupid house
than make the owners of it feel that they bored him."

"She does not think anything of the kind," said he, with a peculiar
smile. "She knows that there is no question of good nature or of boredom
in the matter at all; but there is something at stake far more touching
than either." He waited to see if she would speak, but as she was silent
he went on: "I will be honest, if you will not. I am not going away
of my freewill. I h