nner, and was
at any rate young. There was an antiquity about every thing at Manor
Cross, which was already crushing the spirit of the young bride.

"Dear me! this is nice," said Mrs. Houghton, disregarding, apparently
altogether, the pain of her shoulder; "I declare, I shall begin to be
glad of the accident!"

"You shouldn't say that."

"Why not, if I feel it? Doesn't it seem like a thing in a story that I
should be brought to Lord George's house, and that he was my lover only
quite the other day?" The idea had never occurred to Mary, and now that
it was suggested to her, she did not like it. "I wonder when he'll come
and see me. It would not make you jealous, I hope."

"Certainly not."

"No, indeed. I think he's quite as much in love with you as ever he was
with me. And yet, he was very, very fond of me once. Isn't it odd that
men should change so?"

"I suppose you are changed, too," said Mary,--hardly knowing what to
say.

"Well,--yes,--no. I don't know that I'm changed at all. I never told
Lord George that I loved him. And what's more, I never told Mr.
Houghton so. I don't pretend to be very virtuous, and of course I
married for an income. I like him very well, and I always mean to be
good to him; that is, if he lets me have my own way. I'm not going to
be scolded, and he need not think so."

"You oughtn't to have gone on to-day, ought you?"

"Why not? If my horse hadn't gone so very quick, and Mr. Price at that
moment hadn't gone so very slow, I shouldn't have come to grief, and
nobody would have known anything about it. Wouldn't you like to ride?"

"Yes; I should like it. But are not you exerting yourself too much?"

"I should die if I were made to lie here without speaking to any one.
Just put the pillow a little under me. Now I'm all right. Who do you
think was going as well as anybody yesterday? I saw him."

"Who was it?"

"The very Reverend the Dean of Brotherton, my dear."

"No!"

"But he was. I saw him jump the brook just before I fell into it. What
will Mr. Groschut say?"

"I don't think papa cares much what Mr. Groschut says."

"And the Bishop?"

"I'm not sure that he cares very much for the Bishop either. But I am
quite sure that he would not do anything that he thought to be wrong."

"A Dean never does, I suppose."

"My papa never does."

"Nor Lord George, I dare say," said Mrs. Houghton.

"I don't say anything about Lord George. I haven't known him quite so
long."

"If yo