cruel.'

'I am very cruel to keep you here so long--and I, too, am forgetting the
vicar, who will be here immediately, and I must meet him in a costume
less like the Woman of Endor.'

Lord Chelford, leaning on the little wicket, put his arm over, and she
gave him her hand again.

'Good-bye,' said Rachel.

'Well, I suppose I, too, must say good-bye; and I'll say a great deal
more,' said he, in a peculiar, odd tone, that was very firm, and yet
indescribably tender. And he held her slender hand, from which she had
drawn the gauntlet, in his. 'Yes, Rachel, I will--I'll say everything. We
are old friends now--you'll forgive me calling you Rachel--it may be
perhaps the last time.'

Rachel was standing there with such a beautiful blush, and downcast eyes,
and her hand in his.

'I liked you always, Rachel, from the first moment I saw you--I liked you
better and better--indescribably--indeed, I do; and I've grown to like
you so, that if I lose you, I think I shall never be the same again.'

There was a very little pause, the blush was deeper, her eyes lower
still.

'I admire you, Rachel--I like your character--I have grown to love you
with all my heart and mind--quite desperately, I think. I know there are