Cousin Henry

uire's

reford,-troubled because she saw nothing bu

ay," he said. And yet it was not long si

stay?" as

to go to your father. I suppose th

ncle I

nephew must be the master of Llanfeare was so bitter to him that he could hardly endure it; and then, added to this, was the vexation of the nephew's presence. That three weeks should be passed alone with the man,

er now that her position was so different. She had not accused him in her own heart of having come to her because of her supposed wealth. Thinking well of him in other matters, she thought well of him also in that. But still there was the fact that she had refused him when supposed to be an heiress; and not even to secure her happiness would she allow him to think that she accepted him because of her altered circumstances. And yet she was in love with him, and had now acknowledged to herself that it was s

r everything on his account. His vacillation had been unfortunate for her, but in everything he had done the best according to his lights. Perhaps there was present to her mind something of the pride of a martyr. Perhaps

ed her a few questions as to her uncle's

she said. "I think it has b

said her father angrily. "He d

eare now, and Henr

more unjust than to make a promise i

im, Uncle Indefer has been all love to me. I would not allow a thought of mine to be polluted by ingratitude towards him. Whatever he has done, he has done because h

k tea. This communication was made to her by her stepmother, in that serious tone which is always intended to convey a matter of impo

Isabel, suppressing with her usual for

ear. I am sure he is v

rsation as though there were nothing peculiar in the meeting. She spoke of Llanfeare, of her uncle's failing health, and of her cousin's visit, taking care to indicate by some apparently chance word, that Henry was received there as the heir. She played

his hand at parting. There was no pressure of the han

e morning? Then she felt, as she sat alone in her room, that she had done him a foul injustice in that spur of the moment. It must be that she had done him an injustice, or he would not have

such intention existed, the interview must of course take place, and as well now as later. There was no confidence on the matter between herself and her stepmother,-no special confidence between e

t letter which you wrote to me. Will you take

e back my own letter?"

I trust-but I hope that I m

pe so?" she asked,

y. If it be a long story, forgive me because of its importance

ways liked you.

ot interrupt me. When they told me that you were to be y

y n

ld not be so. I knew that

e thoug

er as conveying his decision. I had not intende

ot? Wh

are to by my wife," he said, repeating the words

is not t

fe of William Owen, if she likes him,-if only

yet there was her settled purpose still strong in her mind. Having refused him when she believed herself to

ke me well eno

st not

t? Why m

nnot b

u must say that y

him. "It is enough for me to say that it cannot be so. If I ask

aid, as he left her; "but I will

er promised inheritance. He had come then simply because he loved her, and for that reason, and for that reason only, he had now come again. And yet-and yet, there was her resolution! And there was the ground on which she had founded it! Though he might not remember it now, would he not remember hereafter that she had refused him when she was rich a

f-sisters, though they loved her, held her in awe. There was so little that was weak about her, so little that was self-indulgent, so little that was like the other girls around them! It was known t

r. As the idea that he was so fell upon her, she became aware that she loved him better than ever. She began to know that with such a look as he now wore h

the hand, "Isabel, I have come ag

ustomed manner. As he looked down upon her, she felt that she had already yielde

"here is a telegram for you

ram was as follows:-"Your uncle is very ill, very ill indeed, and wishes you to come ba

paper was handed to her lover to read, and then she rushed out of the

nsolation. When was the next train? When should she reach Carmarthen? When would she once more be at the old man's bedside? In the course of the afternoon she did leave Hereford, and at about ten o'clock that night she

y the manner of the old servants as she entered the house, from the woeful face of the butler, and from the presence of the cook, who had lived in the f

you are to be told that he will b

at her uncle was expected to live that

sp of her hand; there was a gleam of loving brightness left in his eye; but he could not then speak a word. When, after an hour, she left his room for a few minutes to get rid of her travelling clothes,

Isabel, thought so

anished the woman, so that to her might belong the luxury of doing anything, if aught could be done. That her cousin should be there was

ou must indeed

so at last, with some pers

f impatience. For hours he lay in that way, till the early dawn of the summer morning broke into the room through the chink of the shutters. Then there came from him

right. It

o more. When the doctor arrived at seven, having ridden out from Carmarthen, there was nothing for him further to do bu