"You say that this St. Jerome's is on my land, Miss Blake?" "On your land, Sir Karl: but in Farmer Truefit's occupation. The consent lay with him and he gave it." "Well, I hope you will have the good sense not to go too far." Miss Blake lifted her head, and asked Hewitt for some bread. Lucy's pretty face had flushed, and she glanced timidly at her husband. Remembering past days, she had not much faith in Theresa's moderation. "When Mrs. Cleeve, knowing Lucy's inexperience and youth, suggested that I should stay here for some time after her return home, Sir Karl, if agreeable to you and to her, and I acquiesced, wishing to be useful to both of you in any way that might be, I had no conception there was not a church open for daily worship in the place. I must go to daily worship, Sir Karl. It is as essential to me as my bread and cheese." "I'm sure I can say nothing against daily worship--to those who have the time for it," rejoined Karl. "It is not _that_ I fear, Miss Blake; think how beautiful the daily service was in Winchester Cathedral!" "Oh, of course; yes," replied Miss Blake, in a slighting tone; "the cathedral service was very well as far as it went. But you need not fear, Sir Karl." "Thank you," he replied; "I am glad to hear you say so." And the subject dropped. The two ladies were alone for a few minutes after dinner in the North room. Lucy was standing at the open window. "Of course you know all about the place by this time, Theresa," she suddenly said. "There's a house over there amidst those trees: who lives in it?" "Some lady, I believe, who chooses to keep herself very retired," replied Miss Blake. "Oh, I asked Karl, but he could not tell me: he says he is nearly as much a stranger here as I am. Theresa! I do think that's a nightingale! Listen." "Yes we have nightingales here," said Miss Blake, indifferently. Lucy crossed the lawn, and paced before the clusters of trees. The bird was just beginning its sweet notes. Karl came out, drew her hand within his arm, and walked with her until Miss Blake called out that the tea was waiting. But Lucy yet was not very strong. She began to feel tired, and a sudden headache came on. When tea was over Karl said she must go to bed. "I think I will," she answered, rising. "If you will pardon my leaving you, Theresa. Good night." Karl went up with her and stayed a few minutes talking. In coming down he went straight to his smoking-room and shut the door. "Very polite, I'm sure!" thought Miss Blake, resentfully. But the next moment she heard him leave it and come towards the sitting-room. "I will wish you good night too, Miss Blake," he said, offering his hand. "Pray ring for anything you may require; you are more at home, you know, than we are," he concluded with a slight laugh. "Are you going to bed also, Sir Karl?" "I? Oh no. I am going into my smoking-room. I have a letter to write."