"Well, to say the truth, Miss Griselda, I ain't partial to low places like Crown Alley, and----" "But you might talk to the man of good things--you might tell him of the love of God." Graves shrugged her shoulders. "I must tell him first of the wrath of God--poor dying creature!--if he has been mixed up with theatre folk. It's awful to think of him!" "Do go--to please _me_, dear Graves," Griselda said. With a sudden impulse, she stooped and kissed her rugged face as Graves bent down to arrange a knot of ribbon on the chintz bodice. "Oh, Graves, I am so happy! I want to make someone else happy. Don't you understand? Do go; and take what you can in your hand. Now, what do I care for scolding?" she said. "I feel as if I had wings to-day;" and in another moment Griselda had tripped downstairs, and was at the door of the sitting-room, where on a sofa reclined Lady Betty. Lady Betty was fanning herself vigorously--always a sign of a coming storm; and Sir Maxwell Danby was leaning back in an armchair, toying with his snuff-box and the trifles hanging to his watch-chain. The ruffles on his coat were of the most costly lace, and so was the edge of the long cravat, which, however, was peppered with the snuff he was continually using. There was a gleam of something very much the reverse of kindly intention in his little deep-set eyes, and cunning and malice were making curves round his thin lips, though, on Griselda's entrance, a smile, which was meant to be fascinating, parted them; and, rising in reply to her curtsey at the threshold of the door, he bowed low, advanced to her, and, offering his hand, said: "May I beg leave to hand you to a chair?" Then, as Griselda drew her hand away and turned on him a look of disgust, Lady Betty almost screamed out: "What do you mean by flouncing like that, miss? Sit down at once, and hear of the honour this gentleman proposes to do you. He offers you what you little deserve." "Nay--nay, my lady," Sir Maxwell began; "that is impossible for any man to offer. A diadem laid at this fair lady's feet would be all too little for her deserts. But may I venture to address a few words to your fair ward? and then I will take my leave, and await with anxiety a reply--say, to-morrow at this time. I would not hasten her. Madam," he began, with his hand on his heart--"madam, I pray you to listen to my poor words; and, as you listen, believe that they come from one weary of the hollow insincerities of a gay world, and longing to rest itself on something real and steadfast. I see in you the perfection of womanhood. I adore you; and Lady Betty favours my suit. I can offer you a position--a social rank--not to be lightly esteemed. Danby Hall is my ancestral home, and thither I crave leave to convey you, ere many months have passed, as its beautiful mistress, and----"