“Surely you’ve formed this resolution somewhat abruptly,” observed Miss Peyton. “It was only yesterday you agreed to escort your cousin Annie and myself to ride over and sketch the ruins of Monkton Priory. I was thinking this morning, as soon as I saw the sunshine, what a charming canter we should have.” “I should be more sorry, Miss Peyton, to be forced to break so agreeable an engagement, did I not feel certain _you_ will have no difficulty in supplying my place on the occasion,” returned Leicester, laying a marked emphasis on the pronoun. “I must now wish you good morning,” he continued; then bowing coldly, he took up his hat and turned to leave the room. Miss Peyton allowed him to reach the door ere she could make up her mind what course to pursue; then colouring brightly, she exclaimed, “Stay one moment, Mr. Leicester.” As he paused, and closing the door, which he had partially opened, turned towards her, she continued, “I will not affect to misunderstand your allusion, and although the subject is one on which I should not willingly have entered, I consider it due to myself not to suffer you to depart under a mistake, into which I should have thought you knew me too well to have fallen.” “Mistake!” repeated Leicester eagerly. “Is it possible that I can be mistaken? Are you not then engaged to Mr. De Grandeville?” “Most assuredly am I not,” returned Miss Peyton, “nor, unless I very greatly alter my opinion of that gentleman, shall I ever be so. I did think Mr. Leicester would have given me credit for better taste than to have supposed such a thing possible, but I see I was mistaken; and now,” she added, “having found the book I came to seek, I must wish you good morning, and--a pleasant journey to Constantinople.” “Stay, Miss Peyton,” exclaimed Leicester, for once really excited; “you have said too much or too little. Pardon me,” he continued, “I will not detain you five minutes, but speak I must.” Taking her hand, he led her to a seat, and resumed--