nds known. They are
historic, Mary.'

'Why, they must be worth a fortune.'

'They are valued at something over seventy thousand pounds.'

'But why don't you sell them?' exclaimed Mary, opening her eyes wide
with surprise, 'they would give you a handsome income.'

'They are not mine to sell, Molly. Did not I tell you that they are
heirlooms? They are the family jewels of the Countesses of Hartfield.'

'Then what are you?'

'Ronald Hollister, Earl of Hartfield, and your adoring lover!'

Mary gave a cry of surprise, a cry of distress even.

'Oh, that is too dreadful!' she exclaimed; 'grandmother will be so
unhappy. She had set her heart upon Lesbia marrying Lord Hartfield, the
son of the man _she_ loved.'

'I got wind of her wish more than a year ago,' said Hartfield, 'from
your brother; and he and I hatched a little plot between us. He told me
Lesbia was not worthy of his friend's devotion--told me that she was
vain and ambitious--that she had been educated to be so. I determined to
come and try my fate. I would try to win her as plain John Hammond. If
she was a true woman, I told myself, vanity and ambition would be blown
to the four winds, provided I could win her love. I came, I saw her; and
to see was to love her. God knows I tried honestly to win her; but I
had sworn to myself that I would woo her as John Hammond, and I did not
waver in my resolution--no, not when a word would have turned the scale.
She liked me, I think, a little; but she did not like the notion of an
obscure life as the wife of a hardworking professional man. The pomps
and vanities of this world had it against love or liking, and she gave
me up. I thank God that the pomps and vanities prevailed; for this happy
chance gave me Mary, my sweet Wordsworthian damsel, found, like the
violet or the celandine, by the wayside, in Wordsworth's own country.'

'And you are Lord Hartfield!' exclaimed Mary, still lost in wonder, and
with no elation at this change in the aspect of her life. 'I always knew
you were a great man. But poor grandmother! It will be a dreadful
disappointment to her.'

'I think not. I think she has learned my Molly's value; rather late, as
I learned it; and I believe she will be glad that one of her
granddaughters should marry the son of her first lover. Let us go to
her, love, and see if she is reconciled to the idea, and whether the
settlement is ready for execution. Dorncliffe and his clerk were working
at it half through