again before the parish, which would thus know that she had miscalculated her powers. Roger Pearson knew it already, and triumphed. And then Aunt Patience--but that was the most dreadful of all. Even old Hewitt himself, the landlord of the Seven Thorns, was a little disappointed, if truth were told. He had liked to say to the fathers of the village, “I can’t get that young Piercey out o’ my house. Morning, noon, and night that young fellow is about. And I can’t kick him out, ye see, old Sir Giles bein’ the Lord o’ the Manor.” “I’d kick him out fast enough,” the blacksmith had replied, who never had any chance that way, “if he come sneakin’ after my gell.” “Oh, as for that, my Patty is one that can take care of herself,” it had been Mr. Hewitt’s boast to say. And when he was congratulated ironically by the party in the parlour with a “Hallo, Hewitt! you’ve been and got shut of your Softy,” the landlord did not like it. Softy as Gervase was, to have got him thus fast in the web, old Sir Giles’ only son, was a kind of triumph to the house. In the afternoon, however, Patty resolved to take a walk. It was an indulgence which she permitted to herself periodically--that her best things and her hat with the roses, her light gloves and her parasol might not spoil for want of use. She put on all this finery, however, with a sinking at her heart. The last time she had worn them she had been all in a thrill with excitement, bent upon the boldest step she had ever taken in her life. And the high tension of her nerves and passion of her mind had been increased by the unexpected colloquy with Lady Piercey at the carriage-door. But that was a day of triumph all along the line. She had baffled the old lady, and she had roused her own aunt to a fierce enthusiasm of interest, which had reacted upon herself and increased her determination, and the fervour of her own. When she had walked back that evening with the fifty pounds, she had felt herself already my lady, uplifted to a pinnacle of grandeur from which no fathers or mothers could bring her down. But now! Gervase himself had not seemed a very important part of that triumph a little while ago. He had been a chattel of hers, a piece of property as much her own as her parasol. And if he had emancipated himself, if he had escaped out of her net, if his mother had obtained the mastery of him, or sent him away, Patty felt as if she must die of rage and humiliation. To take back that fifty pounds to Aunt Patience and allow that the use she had got it for was no longer possible; to submit to be asked on all sides, by Roger in triumph, by everybody else in scorn, what had become of him? was more than she could bear. She would rather run away and go to service in London. She would rather---- there was nothing in the world that Patty did not feel herself capable of doing rather than bear the brunt of this disappointment and shame.