on her part? It was impossible to think so, and yet what was it? She did not herself understand, and who else could do so? But nobody else had been aware of this change in the standard by which Fairfax was judged, and everybody had treated him easily, carelessly, as before. Only when he appeared to-day the family generally were conscious of a difference. He was more serious, even anxious; he had not an ear for every piece of nonsense as before, but was grave and pre-occupied, not hearing what was said to him. Mrs. Lenny thought she knew exactly what was the matter. He attracted her special sympathies. “Poor young fellow,” she said, “he’s come courting, and he might just as well court the fairies at the bottom of the sea. My Lady Markham’s not the woman I take her for if she’ll ever give her pretty daughter to the likes of him.” “He wants to marry Alice, do you think?” said Gus. “I wonder if _she’ll_ have nothing to say to him either?” He was thinking of Dolly, but Mrs. Lenny understood that it was of Lady Markham’s opposition he thought. “I would not answer for the girl herself,” Mrs. Lenny said; “but Gus, my dear, you have done harm enough in this house; here’s a case in which you might be of use. You have neither chick nor child. Why shouldn’t you settle something on your pretty young sister, and let her marry the man she likes?” “No, I have neither chick nor child,” Gus said. It was not a speech that pleased him, and yet it was very true. He pondered this question with a continually increasing depression in his mind all day. He could not get what he wanted himself, but he might help Fairfax to get it, and make up to him for the imperfections of fortune. Perhaps he might even be asked, for anything he could tell, to serve Paul in the same way. This made the little baronet sad, and even a little irritated. Was this all he had been made a great man for, an English landed proprietor, in order that he should use his money to get happiness for other people, none for himself? In the meantime Fairfax had followed Alice to the west room, her mother’s favourite place, but Lady Markham was not there. “I will tell mamma. I am sure she will be glad to see you,” Alice said. “Just one moment--only wait one moment,” Fairfax said, detaining her with his hand raised in appeal. But when she stopped at his entreaty he did not say anything. What answer could she make him? She was standing waiting with a little wonder and much embarrassment. And he said nothing; at last-- “Paul is very well,” he said. “I am very glad. We heard from him yesterday.” Then there was another pause. “Miss Markham,” said Fairfax, “I told your mother myself of _that_, you know, and a great deal more. She was not so--angry as I feared.” “Angry!” Alice laughed a little, but very nervously. “How could she be angry? It was not anything that could----” What had she been going to say? Something cruel, something that she did not mean.