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302 come over at last to pay my respects to you. You must have thought me very uncourteous not to do so before.'

This she denied. 'She had not,' she said, 'thought him at all uncivil. She had come to Boxall Hill to be out of the way; and, of course, had not expected any such formalities.' As she uttered this she almost blushed at the abrupt truth of what she was saying. But she was taken so much unawares that she did not know how to make the truth other than abrupt.

'To be out of the way!' said Frank. 'And why should you want to be out of the way?'

'Oh! there were reasons,' said she, laughing. 'Perhaps I have quarrelled dreadfully with my uncle.'

Frank at the present moment had not about him a scrap of badinage. He had not a single easy word at his command. He could not answer her with anything in guise of a joke; so he walked on, not answering at all.

'I hope all my friends at Greshamsbury are well,' said Mary. 'Is Beatrice quite well?'

'Quite well,' said he.

'And Patience?'

'What, Miss Oriel; yes, I believe so. I haven't seen her this day or two.' How was it that Mary felt a little flush of joy, as Frank spoke in this indifferent way about Miss Oriel's health?

'I thought she was always a particular friend of yours,' said she.

'What! who? Miss Oriel? So she is! I like her amazingly; so does Beatrice.' And then he walked about six steps in silence, plucking up courage for the great attempt. He did pluck up his courage and then rushed at once to the attack.

'Mary!' said he, and as he spoke he put his hand on the donkey's neck and looked tenderly into her face. He looked tenderly, and, as Mary's ear at once told her, his voice sounded more soft than it had ever sounded before. 'Mary, do you remember the last time that we were together?'

Mary did remember it well. It was on that occasion when he had treacherously held her hand; on that day when, according to law, he had become a man; when he had outraged all the propriety of the De Courcy interest by offering his love to Mary in Augusta's hearing. Mary did remember it well; but how was she to speak of it? 'It was your birthday, I think,' said she.

'Yes. It was my birthday. I wonder whether you remember what I said to you then?'

'I remember that you were very foolish, Mr. Gresham.'

'Mary, I have come to repeat my folly;—that is, if it be folly. I told you then that I loved you, and I dare say that I did so