tes and admires; and so one forgets the
distance between its grandeur and one's own littleness."

The allusion was palpable: but did he intend it? Surely not, after what
he had just said. And yet there was a sadness in the tone which made
Valencia fancy that some feeling for her might still linger: but he
evidently had been speaking to himself, forgetful, for the moment, of
her presence; for he turned to her with a start and a blush--"But now--I
have been troubling you too long with this stupid _tete-a-tete_
sentimentality of mine. I will make my bow, and find the Major. I am
afraid, if it be possible for him to forget any one, he has forgotten me
in some new moss or other."

He went out, and to Valencia's chagrin she saw him no more that day. He
spent the forenoon in the garden, and the afternoon in lying down, and
at night complained of fatigue, and stayed in his own room the whole
evening, while Campbell read him to sleep. Next morning, however, he
made his appearance at breakfast, well and cheerful.

"I must play at sick man no more, or I shall rob you, I see, of Major
Campbell's company; and I owe you all for too much already."

"Unless you are better than you were last night, you must play at sick
man," said the Major. "I cannot conceive what exhausted you so; unless
you ladies are better nurses, I must let no one come near him but
myself. If you had been scolding him the whole morning, instead of
praising him as he deserves, he could not have been more tired last
night."

"Pray do not!" cried Frank, evidently much pained; "I had such a
delightful morning, and every one is so kind--you only make me wretched,
when I feel all the trouble I am giving."

"My dear fellow," said Scoutbush _en grand serieux_, "after all that you
have done for our people at Aberalva, I should be very much shocked if
any of my family thought any service shown to you a trouble."

"Pray do not speak so," said Frank, "I am fallen among angels, when I
least expected."

"Scoutbush as an angel!" shrieked Lucia, clapping her hands. "Elsley,
don't you see the wings sprouting already, under his shooting jacket?"

"They are my braces, I suppose, of course," said Scoutbush, who never
understood a joke about himself, though he liked one about other people;
while Elsley, who hated all jokes, made no answer--at least none worth
recording. In fact, as the reader may have discovered, Elsley, save
_tete-a-tete_ with some one who took his fancy, w