le I am doing. I do not want your wine. Liberty to act in the
manner I think right, will do me far more good. But it is of no use. It
is preordained that I am to be nothing but a cumberer of the ground. I
beg your ladyship's pardon for this call."

He stood up, and then turned dizzy. My lady looked on, deeply hurt, and
not a little offended, he held out his hand to her, and I could see that
she had a little hesitation before she took it. He then saw me, I almost
think, for the first time; and put out his hand once more, drew it back,
as if undecided, put it out again, and finally took hold of mine for an
instant in his damp, listless hand, and was gone.

Lady Ludlow was dissatisfied with both him and herself, I was sure.
Indeed, I was dissatisfied with the result of the interview myself. But
my lady was not one to speak out her feelings on the subject; nor was I
one to forget myself, and begin on a topic which she did not begin. She
came to me, and was very tender with me; so tender, that that, and the
thoughts of Mr. Gray's sick, hopeless, disappointed look, nearly made me
cry.

"You are tired, little one," said my lady. "Go and lie down in my room,
and hear what Medlicott and I can decide upon in the way of strengthening
dainties for that poor young man, who is killing himself with his over-
sensitive conscientiousness."

"Oh, my lady!" said I, and then I stopped.

"Well. What?" asked she.

"If you would but let him have Farmer Hale's barn at once, it would do
him more good than all."

"Pooh, pooh, child!" though I don't think she was displeased, "he is not
fit for more work just now. I shall go and write for Dr. Trevor."

And for the next half-hour, we did nothing but arrange physical comforts
and cures for poor Mr. Gray. At the end of the time, Mrs. Medlicott
said--

"Has your ladyship heard that Harry Gregson has fallen from a tree, and
broken his thigh-bone, and is like to be a cripple for life?"

"Harry Gregson! That black-eyed lad who read my letter? It all comes
from over-education!"

CHAPTER XI.

But I don't see how my lady could think it was over-education that made
Harry Gregson break his thigh, for the manner in which he met with the
accident was this:--

Mr. Horner, who had fallen sadly out of health since his wife's death,
had attached himself greatly to Harry Gregson. Now, Mr. Horner had a
cold manner to every one, and never spoke more than was necessary, at the
b