s in the long hall, where it was the habit of the
house to assemble before dinner, Ruth found that her attempts at
conversation were rather thrown away upon Lady Grace, with whom she had
been renewing an old acquaintance, and whose interest, for the time
being, entirely centred in the carved coats of arms and heraldic designs
with which the towering white stone chimney-piece was covered.

Lady Grace was one of those pretty, delicate creatures who remind one of
a very elaborate rose-bud. There was an appearance of ultra-refinement
about her, a look of that refinement which is in itself a weakness, a
poverty of blood, so to speak, the opposite and more pleasing but
equally unhealthy extreme of coarseness. She looked very pretty as,
having left Ruth, she stood by Charles, passing her little pink hand
over the lowest carvings, dim and worn with the heat of many generations
of fires, and listened with rapt attention to his answers to her
questions.

"And the Hall is so beautiful," she said, looking round with childlike
curiosity at the walls covered with weapons, and with a long array of
armor, and at the massive pillars of carved white stone which rose up
out of the polished floor to meet the raftered ceiling. "It is so--so
uncommon."

Whatever Charles's other failings may have been, he was an admirable
host. The weather was fine. What can be finer than September when she is
in a good-humor? The two first days of Ruth's visit were unalloyed
enjoyment. It seemed like a sudden return to the old life with Lady
Deyncourt, when the round of country visits regularly succeeded the
season in London. Of Mr. Alwynn she saw little or nothing. He was buried
in the newly discovered charters. Of Charles she saw a good deal, more
than at the time she was quite aware of, for he seemed to see a great
deal of everybody, from Lady Grace to the shy man of the party, who at
Stoke Moreton first conceived the idea that he was an acquisition to
society. But, whether Charles made the opportunities or not which came
so ready to his hand, still he found time, amid the pressure of his
shooting arrangements and his duties as host, to talk to Ruth.

One day there was cub-hunting in the gray of the early morning, to which
she and Miss Wyndham went with Charles and others of the party who could
bear to get up betimes. Losing sight of the others after a time, Ruth
and Charles rode back alone together, when the sun was high, walking
their tired horses a