“My dear,” she whispered to her daughter at the termination of the service, “I really wish that when he comes to church Mr. Milward could be persuaded not to disturb other people by his movements, and generally to adopt a less patronising attitude towards the Almighty,” a sarcasm that in after days Ellen was careful to repeat to him. At the doorway they met, and Ellen greeted him with affected surprise: “I thought that you had given up the idea of coming, Mr. Milward.” “Oh no; I was a little late, that was all. Did you not hear me come in?” “No,” said Ellen sweetly. “If Ellen did not hear you I am sure that everybody else did, Mr. Milward,” remarked Lady Graves with some severity, and then with a sigh she glided away to visit her son’s grave. By this time they were at the church gate, and Ellen turned up the path that ran across the park to the Hall. “How about our walk?” said Milward. “Our walk? Oh! I had forgotten. Do you wish to walk?” “Yes; that is what I came for.” “Indeed! I thought you had come to church. Well, my brother and Miss Levinger have gone to the Cliff, and if you like we can meet them—that is, unless you think that it is going to rain.” “Oh no, it won’t rain,” he answered. In a few minutes they had left the park and were following the same road that Henry and Emma had taken. But Ellen did not talk of the allegorical mystery of the spring, nor did Edward Milward set out his views as to the necessity of religion. On the contrary, he was so silent that Ellen began to be afraid they would meet the others before he found the courage to do that which, from the nervousness of his manner, she was now assured he meant to do. At length it came, and with a rush. “Ellen,” said Edward in a husky voice. “I beg your pardon,” replied that young lady with dignity. “Miss Graves, I mean. I wish to speak to you.” “Yes, Mr. Milward.” “I want—to ask—you to marry me.” Ellen heard the fateful words, and a glow of satisfaction warmed her breast. She had won the game, and even then she found time to reflect with complacency upon the insight into character which had taught her from the beginning to treat her admirer with affected coldness and assumed superiority. “This is very sudden and unexpected,” she said, gazing over his head with her steady blue eyes. Her tone frightened Edward, and he stammered,—