Miss Somerset's eyes searched the lawyer's face. He stood the battery unflinchingly. She altered her tone, and asked, politely and almost respectfully, whether she might see that paper. Mr. Oldfield gave it her. She took it, and ran her eye over it; in doing which, she raised it so that she could think behind it unobserved. She handed it back at last, with the remark that Sir Charles was a gentleman and had done the right thing. “He has; and you will do the right thing too, will you not?” “I don't know. I am just beginning to fall in love with him myself.” “Jealousy, madam, not love,” said the old lawyer. “Come, now! I see you are a young lady of rare good sense; look the thing in the face: Sir Charles is a landed gentleman; he must marry, and, have heirs. He is over thirty, and his time has come. He has shown himself your friend; why not be his? He has given you the means to marry a gentleman of moderate income, or to marry beneath you, if you prefer it--” “And most of us do--” “Then why not make his path smooth? Why distress him with your tears and remonstrances?” He continued in this strain for some time, appealing to her good sense and her better feelings. When he had done she said, very quietly, “How about the ponies and my brown mare? Are they down in the deed?” “I think not; but if you will do your part handsomely I'll guarantee you shall have them.” “You are a good soul.” Then, after a pause, “Now just you tell me exactly what you want me to do for all this.” Oldfield was pleased with this question. He said, “I wish you to abstain from writing to Sir Charles, and him to visit you only once more before his marriage, just to shake hands and part, with mutual friendship and good wishes.” “You are right,” said she, softly; “best for us both, and only fair to the girl.” Then, with sudden and eager curiosity, “Is she very pretty?” “I don't know.” “What, hasn't he told you?” “He says she is lovely, and every way adorable; but then he is in love. The chances are she is not half so handsome as yourself.” “And yet he is in love with her?” “Over head and ears.” “I don't believe it. If he was really in love with one woman he couldn't be just to another. _I_ couldn't. He'll be coming back to me in a few months.” “God forbid!” “Thank you, old gentleman.” Mr. Oldfield began to stammer excuses. She interrupted him: “Oh, bother all that; I like you none the worse for speaking your mind.” Then, after a pause, “Now excuse me; but suppose Sir Charles should change his mind, and never sign this paper?” “I pledge my professional credit.” “That is enough, sir; I see I can trust you. Well, then, I consent to break off with Sir Charles, and only see him once more--as a friend. Poor Sir Charles! I hope he will be happy” (she squeezed out a tear for him)--“happier than I am. And when he does come he can sign the deed, you know.” Mr. Oldfield left her, and joined Sir Charles at Long's, as had been previously agreed.