The squire stopped and covered his face with his hands, while tears gathered in his eyes and rolled down his withered cheeks, as the memory of his blighted hopes rushed over him. It was some minutes before he could proceed, and there was utter silence in the room. Finally he raised his head; a stern, hard look had taken the place of the softened expression, and he continued: “We were standing before a window that looked out on the western sky; the sun was just setting, and its yellow rays streamed in a golden glory all around my love, making her look like some bright-robed divinity. When I had finished telling her my hopes and plans, her lips moved as if she was about to speak, and I bent my ear to catch the blessed words. She raised her eyes, and I could have sworn that the love-light was in their bright depths; but—the sound of a horse’s footsteps outside drew them from me to rest on the handsome face and figure of Robert Ellerton as he rode by on horseback. “He saw us, bowed gracefully, and waved one daintily gloved hand to her. “The look of love fled from my darling’s eyes, as his form passed from sight, and with an absent-minded air she said she was afraid she did not love me well enough to be my wife—that she could not give me as much in return as I could wish. “I protested that if she would only be mine, I would never complain of a lack of affection. She replied that she would think of my offer for a day or two before she gave me her answer. I gazed at her for a moment in astonishment—I was so sure she loved me! I could hardly believe it was the same Jessie whom I had always worshiped—her manner was so changed. “Half-mad with jealousy, and the fear that I might lose her after all, I seized her in my arms and kissed her passionately. She gently released herself, and I went away—and—I never spoke to her again! “A few days after, she sent me a note, telling me she could not be my wife—that she did not love me well enough, and she would not wrong me by giving me her hand without her heart. “Oh! I saw it all! I saw it all! Another had usurped my place! Ralph, listen to me!” The agitated old man leaped forward, while he whispered, hoarsely: “In three months from that time she married that villain, Robert Ellerton—that city dandy. Yes, she chose a shallow love, of three or four months’ growth, to a devotion of years—but he was rich, and I was poor. But I swear he stole her from me—he stole her from me—the thief that he is!” The bitter remembrance was too much for the squire, and he sank back nearly fainting in his chair. Ralph sprang up, poured out a glass of wine, and held it up to his lips. He swallowed it eagerly, and it revived him. He was about to proceed, when his nephew interrupted him: “Uncle, do not finish your story to-night. Some other time will do as well; though, for the life of me, I can’t see yet what I have to do with it.”