ngwood for instance, and all the family at the Rectory.
He bent over her, and said something in a very low voice--something
that brought vivid blushes to her face; and a few minutes afterwards
they went to the door to look at the weather, and stood there
talking till I have heard the last of Mrs. Thatcher's woes, and was
free to join them. I had never seen Milly look so lovely as she did
just then, with her downcast eyes, and a little tremulous smile upon
her perfect mouth.

Mr. Egerton walked all the way home with us. The storm was quite
over, the sun shining, and the air full of that cool freshness which
comes after rain. We talked of all kinds of things. Mr. Egerton had
almost made up his mind to spend the autumn at Cumber, he told us;
and he would go to the Pensildon fete, and take Milly's side in the
croquet-match. He seemed in almost boyish spirits during that
homeward walk.

When we went up-stairs to our rooms that night, Milly followed me
into mine. There was nothing new in this; we often wasted half an
hour in happy idle talk before going to bed; but I was sure from my
darling's manner she had something to tell me. She went over to an
open window, and stood there with her face turned away from me,
looking out across the distant moonlit sea.

'Mary,' she said, after a very long pause, 'do you think people are
intended to be quite happy in this world?'

'My dear love, how can I answer such a question as that? I think
that many people have their lives in their own hands, and that it
rests with themselves to find happiness. And there are many natures
that are elevated and purified by sorrow. I cannot tell what is best
for us, dear. I cannot pretend to guess what this life was meant to
be.'

'There is something in perfect happiness that frightens one, Mary.
It seems as if it could not last. If it could, if I dared believe in
it, I should think that my life was going to be quite happy.'

'Why should it be otherwise, my dear Milly? I don't think you have
ever known much sorrow.'

'Not since my mother died--and I was only a child then--but that old
pain has never quite gone out of my heart; and papa's marriage has
been a greater grief to me than you would believe, Mary. This house
has never seemed to be really my home since then. No, dear, it is a
new life that is dawning for me--and O, such a bright one!'

She put her arms round my neck, and hid her face upon my shoulder.

'Can you guess what Angus Egerton