The blood rushed up to his brows. "Miss Vancourt!" he stammered--"Pray--pray do not think---" But here she turned aside to receive Adderley's farewells and thanks for the charming afternoon he had spent in her company. After this, and when Julian had made his exit, accompanied by Cicely who wanted him to give her a written copy of certain verses he had composed, Maryllia again spoke: "Well, at any rate, I shall send you an invitation to one of my parties, whether you come or not, Mr. Walden;" she said, playfully-- "Otherwise, I shall feel I have not done my social duty to the minister of the parish! It will be for some evening during the next three weeks. I hope you will be able to accept it. If not---" A sudden resolve inspired John's hesitating soul. Taking the hand she offered, he raised it lightly to his lips with all the gallantry of an old-world courtier rather than a modern-time parson. "If you wish me to accept it, it shall be accepted!"--he said, and his voice shook a little--"Forgive me if in any way. I have seemed to you discourteous, Miss Vancourt!--I am so much of a solitary, that 'society' has rather an intimidating effect upon me,--but you must never"--here he looked at her full and bravely--"You must never say again or think that I do not like you! I DO like you!" Her eyes met his with pure and candid earnestness. "That is kind of you,"--she said--"And I am glad! Good-bye!" "Good-bye!" And so he left her presence. When he started to walk home across the fields, Adderley proffered his companionship, which could not in civility be refused. They left the Manor grounds together by the little wicket-gate, and took the customary short-cut to the village. The lustrous afternoon light was mellowing warmly into a deeper saffron glow,--a delicate suggestion of approaching evening was in the breath of the cooling air, and though the uprising orb of Earth had not yet darkened the first gold cloud beneath the western glory of the sun, there was a gentle murmur and movement among the trees and flowers and birds, which indicated that the time for rest and sleep was drawing nigh. The long grasses rustled mysteriously, and the smafl unseen herbs hidden under them sent up a pungently sweet odour as the two men trod them down on their leisurely way across the fields,--and it was with a certain sense of relief from mental strain that Walden lifted his hat and let the soft breeze fan his temples, which throbbed and ached very strangely as though with a weight of pent-up tears. He was very silent,--and Julian Adderley, generally accustomed to talk for two, seemed disposed to an equal taciturnity. The few hours they had spent in the society of Maryllia Vancourt and her weird protegee, Cicely Bourne, had given both men subject for various thoughts which neither of them were inclined to express to one another. Walden, in particular, was aware of a certain irritation and uneasiness of mind which troubled him greatly and he looked