CHAPTER XIX.
Le bruit est pour le fat.
La plainte est pour le sot.
L'honnete homme trompe S'en va et ne dit mot.
-- M.

DELANONI "And so you cannot persuade Miss Gresley to come to us next week ?" said Lord Newhaven, strolling into the dining-room at Westhope Abbey, where Rachel and Dick were sitting at a little supper-table laid for two in front of the high altar.

The dining-room had formerly been the chapel, and the carved stone altar still remained under the east window.
Lord Newhaven drew up a chair, and Rachel felt vaguely relieved at his presence.

He had a knack of knowing when to appear and when to efface himself.
"She can't leave her book," said Rachel.
"Her first book was very clever," said Lord Newhaven, "and, what was more, it was true.

I hope for her own sake she will outgrow her love of truth, or it will make deadly enemies for her." "And good friends," said Rachel.
"Possibly," said Lord Newhaven, looking narrowly at her, and almost obliged to believe that she had spoken without self-consciousness.