“Mean beast!” apostrophising himself; “when you know that the girl could not help herself, and would have given everything she possessed to get out of such a dilemma!” What would Leila say? Should he tell her? No; she would only laugh (he could hear her laugh) and ask, “What are you going to marry on, even if Uncle Dick lets you off?” He had two pounds two shillings a week, and if he made love to her niece, Miss Parrett would naturally and properly send him about his business. Oh, it was all an infernal muddle--there was no way out of it--nothing to do but hide his feelings and bide his time; the wild, haunting refrain of an old negro camp hymn came into his head, “And hold the Lion down! and hold the Lion down!” Well, he was holding the lion down, and a thundering hard job he found it! He had no reason to suspect that Aurea ever thought of him--why should she? She was always polite, gracious--no more. His only little scrap of comfort lay in the fact that he believed Miss Susan liked him--liked him really, in a nice, sentimental, proper, old-maid fashion! She was romantic, so said her niece, who bantered her on her passion for promoting love-affairs and love-matches--he had heard her taunt her playfully with the fact. Undoubtedly Miss Susan was his good friend, and that was the sole morsel of comfort he could offer himself! Presently Wynyard reached a sleepy little village, unearthed a carrier’s cart, horse, and man, and returned to the place where the two ladies were awaiting him with the liveliest impatience. That evening, at nine o’clock, Miss Susan, who had deposited her niece at the Rectory, arrived at home in a carrier’s cart--the sole available mode of conveyance. Her sister, who had been roaming about the hall and passages, accompanied by Mrs. Ramsay, wringing her hands and whimpering that “Susan had been killed,” was considerably relieved. But, as soon as her fears were subdued, she became frightfully excited respecting the fate of her beautiful motor, which, by all accounts, had been left standing in the middle of a river--five miles from home. “Oh, I assure you it will be all right, Bella; please don’t worry yourself. Owen will manage.” “Owen, indeed!” she echoed angrily; “it’s my opinion that he manages _you_--you think a great deal too much of that young man; there’s something at the back of him--it would never surprise me if some day he went off with that motor, and we never saw him again.” “My dear sister! You know you are overwrought, or you would never talk such rubbish.” “If the motor was stuck in the middle of a river, I should like to know how you and Aurea got out of it without being half-drowned?” she demanded judicially. “Oh, we got out of it very simply, and it was as easy as kiss my hand,” rejoined Miss Susan, with a gay laugh. “The only person that got wet was Owen; he carried us.” “_What!_” cried Mrs. Ramsay, with dancing eyes; “carried you and Aurea--how?”