"There's no accounting for tastes." His gravity made her feel equally grave, and she showed it by again requesting him to drop the subject for the present.

"I'll speak to you myself--very soon.

Perhaps I shall write to you." "At your convenience, yes," he replied.

"Whatever time you take, it must seem to me long, and I suppose I must make the best of that." "I shall not keep you in suspense; I only want to collect my mind a little." He gave a melancholy sigh and stood looking at her a moment, with his hands behind him, giving short nervous shakes to his hunting-crop.

"Do you know I'm very much afraid of it--of that remarkable mind of yours ?" Our heroine's biographer can scarcely tell why, but the question made her start and brought a conscious blush to her cheek.