She gave a sigh of relief, looking at his cold, sad face, as if she wished to read that which was written beneath a mask of stone. "Aunt thinks it would be for the best," she said, speaking slowly, and with a firmness she did not possess. "And it is to be soon." He bowed his head, in token of assent. "I have a favour to ask of you--Mr Selwood," said Eve, holding out her trembling hand once more, but he did not take it. "Yes?" he said, in a low constrained way. "I want you to forgive Richard, and be friends." "Yes, yes; of course," he said hastily. "And you will marry us, Mr Selwood," continued Eve. "I? I?" he exclaimed, with a look of horror upon his face. "Oh, no, no: I could not." Eve looked at him in a strangely startled way, and for the moment her calmness seemed to have left her, when Mrs Glaire interposed. "For both our sakes; pray do not say that," she cried; and a curious look passed over the vicar's face. "Do you wish it, Miss Pelly?" he said softly. "Yes; indeed, yes," exclaimed Eve, gazing in his eyes; and then there was silence for a few moments, when, making a mighty effort over himself, the vicar took a step forward, bent down, and kissed her forehead, and said-- "God bless you! May you be very happy." "And you will?" exclaimed Mrs Glaire. "Yes," he said, after a moment's pause, and with his eyes half closed. "I will perform the ceremony." "Thank you--thank you," exclaimed Mrs Glaire, as she caught his hand. "Richard, here is Mr Selwood." Volume 3, Chapter VI. JOHN MAINE'S CONFESSION. "How do?" said Richard, entering from the garden; and he held out his hand sulkily, which the vicar took, and held for a moment. He was about to speak, to say some words of congratulation--words that he had won a great prize, and that his duty to her was to make amends for the past--but the words would not come, and, bowing, he left the room, and walked hastily from the house, watched by Richard Glaire's malicious eyes. For it was sweet revenge to him to know that the hopes he was sure the vicar felt had been blasted, and that he alone would possess Eve Pelly's love. "He thought to best me," muttered Richard; and he smiled to himself, the feeling of mastering the man he looked upon as his enemy adding piquancy to a marriage that had seemed to him before both troublesome and tame. Meanwhile the vicar went slowly down the street, with a strange, dazed look; and more than one observer whispered to his neighbour--"Say, lad; parson hasn't been takking his drop, sewerly." "Nay, nay; I'd sooner believe he was ill. It can't be that," was the reply.