with him. Holding
her hand, he led her across the room. His head was erect, his eyes
shining--his whole aspect that of a man who declares before all the
world, "This is MY OWN."

"Eh?" said my father, gazing at them from over his spectacles.

John spoke brokenly, "We have no parents, neither she nor I. Bless
her--for she has promised to be my wife."

And the old man blessed her with tears.

CHAPTER XIX

"I hardly like taking thee out this wet day, Phineas--but it is a
comfort to have thee."

Perhaps it was, for John was bent on a trying errand. He was going to
communicate to Mr. Brithwood of the Mythe, Ursula's legal guardian and
trustee, the fact that she had promised him her hand--him, John
Halifax, the tanner. He did it--nay, insisted upon doing it--the day
after he came of age, and just one week after they had been
betrothed--this nineteenth of June, one thousand eight hundred and one.

We reached the iron gate of the Mythe House;--John hesitated a minute,
and then pulled the bell with a resolute hand.

"Do you remember the last time we stood here, John? I do, well!"

But soon the happy smile faded from his lips, and left them pressed
together in a firm, almost painful gravity. He was not only a lover
but a man. And no man could go to meet what he knew he must meet in
this house, and on this errand, altogether unmoved. One might foresee
a good deal--even in the knowing side-glance of the servant, whom he
startled with his name, "Mr. Halifax."

"Mr. Brithwood's busy, sir--better come to-morrow," suggested the
man--evidently knowing enough upon his master's affairs.

"I am sorry to trouble him--but I must see Mr. Brithwood to-day."

And John determinedly followed the man into the grand empty
dining-room, where, on crimson velvet chairs, we sat and contemplated
the great stag's head with its branching horns, the silver flagons and
tankards, and the throstles hopping outside across the rainy lawn: at
our full leisure, too, for the space of fifteen minutes.

"This will not do," said John--quietly enough, though this time it was
with a less steady hand that he pulled the bell.

"Did you tell your master I was here?"

"Yes, sir." And the grin with which the footman came in somehow slid
away from his mouth's corners.

"How soon may I have the honour of seeing him?"

"He says, sir, you must send up your business by me."

John paused, evidently subduing something within him--something
unw