And at breakfast also she sat close to her, far away from the baronet, and almost hidden by the urn from his grandson. Sitting there, she said nothing; neither, in truth, did she eat any thing. It was a time of great suffering to her, for she knew that her coming could not be welcomed by the young heir. "It must not be," she said to herself over and over again. "Though he turn me out of the house, I must tell him that it can not be so." After breakfast Peregrine had ridden over to Orley Farm, and there held his consultation with the other heir. On his returning to The Cleeve he did not go into the house, but having given up his horse to a groom wandered away among the woods. Lucius Mason had suggested that he, Peregrine Orme, should himself speak to Lady Mason on this matter. He felt that his grandfather would be very angry should he do so. But he did not regard that much. He had filled himself full with the theory of his duties, and he would act up to it. He would see her, without telling any one what was his purpose, and put it to her whether she would bring down this destruction on so noble a gentleman. Having thus resolved, he returned to the house, when it was already dark, and making his way into the drawing-room, sat himself down before the fire, still thinking of his plan. The room was dark, as such rooms are dark for the last hour or two before dinner in January, and he sat himself in an arm-chair before the fire, intending to sit there till it would be necessary that he should go to dress. It was an unaccustomed thing with him so to place himself at such a time, or to remain in the drawing-room at all till he came down for a few minutes before dinner; but he did so now, having been thrown out of his usual habits by the cares upon his ind. He had been so seated about a quarter of an hour, and was already nearly asleep, when he heard the rustle of a woman's garment, and looking round, with such light as the fire gave him, perceived that Lady Mason was in the room. She had entered very quietly, and was aking her way in the dark to a chair which she frequently occupied, between the fire and one of the windows, and in doing so she passed so near Peregrine as to touch him with her dress. "Lady Mason," he said, speaking, in the first place, in order that she might know that she was not alone, "it is almost dark; shall I ring for candles for you?” She started at hearing his voice, begged his pardon for disturbing him, declined his offer of light, and declared that she was going up again to her own room immediately. But it occurred to him that if it would be well that he should speak to her, it would be well that he should do so at once; and what opportunity could be more fitting than the present? "If you are not in a hurry about any thing," he said, "would you mind staying here for a few minutes?" **Oh no, certainly not." But he could perceive that her voice trembled in uttering these few words. "I think I'd better light a candle," he said; and then he did light one of those which stood on the corner of the mantle-piece-a solitary candle, which only seemed to make the gloom of the large room visible. She, however, was standing close to it, and would have much preferred that the room should have been left to its darkness. "Won't you sit down for a few minutes?" and then she sat down. "I'll just shut the door, if you don't mind. And then, having done so, he returned to his own chair and again faced the fire. He saw that she was pale and nervous, and he did not like to look at her as he spoke. He began to reflect also that they might probably be interrupted by his mother, and he wished that they could adjourn to some other room. That, however, seemed to be impossible; so he summoned up all his courage, and began his task. "I hope you won't think me uncivil, Lady Mason, for speaking to you about this affair." "Oh no, Mr. Orme; I am sure that you will not be uncivil to me." "Of course I can not help feeling a great concern in it, for it'sery nearly the same, you know, as if he were my father. Indeed, if you come to that, it's almost worse; and I can assure you it is nothing about money that I mind. Many fellows in my place would be afraid about that, but I don't care two-pence what he does in that respect. He is so honest and so noblehearted that I am sure he won't do me a wrong." "I hope not, Mr. Orme; and certainly not in respect to me." "I only mention it for fear you should misunderstand me. But there are other reasons, Lady Mason, why this marriage will make me make me very unhappy." "Are there? I shall be so unhappy if I make others unhappy.” "You will, then-I can assure you of that. It is not only me, but your own son. I was up with him to-day, and he thinks of it the same as I do." "What did he say, Mr. Orme?" "What did he say? Well, I don't exactly remember his words; but he made me understand that your marriage with Sir Peregrine would make him very unhappy. He did indeed. Why do you not see him yourself, and talk to him?" "I thought it best to write to him in the first place." "Well, now you have written; and don't you think it would be well that you should go up and see him? You will find that he is quite as strong against it as I am-quite." Peregrine, had he known it, was using the arguments which were of all the least likely to induce Lady Mason to pay a visit to Orley Farm. She dreaded the idea of a quarrel with her son, and would have made almost any sacrifice to prevent such a misfortune; but at the present moment she feared the anger of his words almost more than the anger implied by his ab sence. If this trial could be got over, she would return to him and almost throw herself at his feet; but till that time might it not be well that they should be apart? At any rate these tidings of his discontent could not be efficacious in inducing her to seek him. "Dear Lucius!" she said, not addressing herself to her companion but speaking her thoughts. "I would not willingly give him cause to be dis-, contented with me." “He is, then, very discontented. I can assure you of that." the fire, turned his back to it, and then sat down again. "It is such a deuce of a thing. Lady Mason," he said, "that you must not be angry with me for speaking out." "Oh, Mr. Orme, I am not angry, and I do not know what to say to you." Why don't you speak to Lucius?" "What could he say more than you have said? Dear Mr. Orme, I would not injure him -your grandfather, I mean-for all that the world holds.” "You will injure him-in the eyes of all his "Yes; he and I think differently about all friends." this." "Ah, but don't you think you had better speak to him before you quite make up your mind? He is your son, you know; and an uncommon clever fellow too. He'll know how to say all this much better than I do." "Say what, Mr. Orme?" "Why, of course you can't expect that any body will like such a marriage as this; that is,¦ any body except you and Sir Peregrine." "Then I will not do it. I will go to him and beg him that it may not be so. I will tell him that I can not. Any thing will be better than bringing him to sorrow or disgrace.” "By Jove! but will you really?" Peregrine was startled and almost frightened at the effect of his own eloquence. What would the baronet say when he learned that he had been talked out of his wife by his grandson? "Mr. Orme," continued Lady Mason, "I am sure you do not understand how this matter has been brought about. If you did, however much it might grieve you, you would not blame me. even in your thoughts. From the first to the last my only desire has been to obey your grandfather in every thing.” "Your mother does not object to it." "My mother! But you don't know my mother yet. She would not object to have her head cut off if any body wanted it that she cared about. I do not know how it has all been managed, but I suppose Sir Peregrine ask- | ed her. Then of course she would not object. But look at the common sense of it, Lady Ma-dience?" son. What does the world always say when an old man like my grandfather marries a young woman?" "But I am not—” So far she got, and then she stopped herself. "But you would not marry him out of obe "I would, and did so intend. I would, certainly, if in doing so I did him no injury. You say that your mother would give her life for him. So would I; that or any thing else that I could give, without hurting him or others. It was not I that sought for this marriage; nor did I think of it. If you were in my place, Mr. Orme, you would know how difficult it is to refuse." Peregrine again got up, and, standing with his back to the fire, thought over it all again. His soft heart almost relented toward the woman who had borne his rough words with so much patient kindness. Had Sir Peregrine been there then, and could he have condescended so far, he might have won his grandson's "We have all liked you very much. I'm sure I have for one; and I'll go in for you, heart and soul, in this shameful law business. When Lucius asked me, I didn't think any thing of going to that scoundrel in Hamworth; and all along I've been delighted that Sir Peregrine took it up. By Heavens! I'd be glad to go down to Yorkshire myself, and walk into that fellow that wants to do you this injury. I would indeed; and I'll stand by you as strong as any body. But, Lady Mason, when it comes to one's grand-consent without much trouble. Peregrine, like father marrying, it-it-it- Think what people in the county will say of him. If it was your father, and if he had been at the top of the tree all his life, how would you like to see him get a fall, and be laughed at as though he were in the mud just when he was too old ever to get up again?" I am not sure whether Lucius Mason, with all his cleverness, could have put the matter much better, or have used a style of oratory more efficacious to the end in view. Peregrine had drawn his picture with a coarse pencil, but he had drawn it strongly, and with graphic effect. And then he paused, not with self-confidence, or as giving his companion time to see how great had been his art, but in want of words, and somewhat confused by the strength of his own thoughts. So he got up and poked some other generals, had expended his energy in gaining his victory, and was more ready now to come to easy terms than he would have been had he suffered in the combat. "Well," he said, after a while, "I'm sure I'm very much obliged to you for the manner in which you have taken what I said to you. Nobody knows about it yet, I suppose; and perhaps, if you will talk to the governor-" "I will talk to him, Mr. Orme." "Thank you; and then perhaps all things may turn out right. I'll go and dress now." And so saying he took his departure, leaving her to consider how best she might act at this crisis of her life, so that things might go right. if such were possible. The more she thought of it, the less possible it seemed that her affairs should be made to go right. "Oh yes; of course a fellow should marry well. I don't think much of marrying for money." it." "Nor do I, Peregrine; I think very little of "Nor about being of very high birth.” "Well; it would make me unhappy-very unhappy, if you were to marry below your own rank." themselves to say a few words in a more cheery | Harriet Tristram. "The first tidings we heard were that he was dead," said Sir Peregrine, filling his glass. "No, he wasn't dead. But of course you know that now. He broke an arm and two ribs, and got rather a bad squeeze. He was just behind me, you know, and I had to wait for him. I lost the run, and had to see Harriet Tristram go away with the best lead any one has had to a fast thing this year. That's an uncommon nasty place at the back of Monkton Grange.' "I hope, Peregrine, you don't think too much about Harriet Tristram." "Think of her! who? I? Think of her in what sort of a way? I think she goes uncommonly well to hounds." "That may be, but I should not wish to see you pin your happiness on any lady that was celebrated chiefly for going well to hounds." "Do you mean marry her?" and Peregrine immediately made a strong comparison in his mind between Miss Tristram and Madeline Staveley. "Yes; that's what I did mean." "I wouldn't have her if she owned every foxcover in the county. No, by Jove! I know a trick worth two of that. It's jolly enough to see them going, but as to being in love with themin that sort of way-" "You are quite right, my boy; quite right. It is not that that a man wants in a wife." "No," said Peregrine, with a melancholy cadence in his voice, thinking of what it was that he did want. And so they sat sipping their wine. The turn which the conversation had taken had for the moment nearly put Lady Mason out of the young man's head. "You would be very young to marry yet," said the baronet. 66 'Yes, I should be young; but I don't know that there is any harm in that." "Quite the contrary, if a young man feels himself to be sufficiently settled. Your mother, I know, would be very glad that you should marry early; and so should I, if you married well." What on earth could all this mean? It could not be that his grandfather knew that he was in love with Miss Staveley; and had this been known, his grandfather would not have talked of "What do you call my own rank?" "I mean any girl whose father is not a gentleman, and whose mother is not a lady; and of whose education among ladies you could not feel certain." "I could be quite certain about her," said Peregrine, very innocently. "Her! what her ?" "Oh, I forgot that we were talking about nobody." "You don't mean Harriet Tristram ?" "Of whom were you thinking, Peregrine? May I ask-if it be not too close a secret?” And then again there was a pause, during which Peregrine emptied his glass and filled it again. He had no objection to talk to his grandfather about Miss Staveley, but he felt ashamed of having allowed the matter to escape him in this sort of way. "I will tell you why I ask, my boy," continued the baronet. "I am going to do that which many people will call a very foolish thing." "You mean about Lady Mason." "Yes; I mean my own marriage with Lady Mason. We will not talk about that just at present, and I only mention it to explain that before I do so I shall settle the property permanently. If you were married I should at once divide it with you. I should like to keep the old house myself, till I die-” "Oh, Sir!" "But sooner than give you cause of offense I would give that up." "I would not consent to live in it unless I did so as your guest." "Until your marriage I think of settling on you a thousand a year; but it would add to my happiness if I thought it likely that you would marry soon. Now may I ask of whom were you thinking?" Peregrine paused for a second or two before he made any reply, and then he brought it out boldly. "I was thinking of Madeline Staveley." "Then, my boy, you were thinking of the prettiest girl and the best-bred lady in the county. Here's her health;" and he filled for himself a bumper of claret. "You couldn't have named a woman whom I should be more proud to see you bring home. And your mother's opinion of her is the same as mine. I happen to know that ;" and with a look of triumph he drank his glass of wine, as though much that was very joyful to him had been already settled. "Yes," said Peregrine, mournfully, "she is a very nice girl; at least I think so." "The man who can win her, Peregrine, may consider himself to be a lucky fellow. You were quite right in what you were saying about money. No man feels more sure of that than I do. But if I am not mistaken Miss Staveley will have something of her own. I rather think that Arbuthnot got ten thousand pounds." "I'm sure I don't know, Sir," said Peregrine; and his voice was by no means as much elated as that of his grandfather. "I think he did; or if he didn't get it all, the remainder is settled on him. And the judge is not a man to behave better to one child than to another." "I suppose not." And then the conversation flagged a little, for the enthusiasm was all one side. It was moreover on that side which naturally would have been the least enthusiastic. Poor Peregrine had only told half his secret as yet, and that not the most important half. To Sir Peregrine the tidings, as far as he had heard them, were very pleasant. He did not say to himself that he would purchase his grandson's assent to his own marriage by giving his consent to his grandson's marriage. But it did seem to him that the two affairs, acting upon each other, might both be made to run smooth. His heir could have made no better choice in selecting the lady of his love. Sir Peregrine had feared much that some Miss Tristram or the like might have been tendered to him as the future Lady Orme, and he was agreeably surprised to find that a new mistress for The Cleeve had been so well chosen. He would be all kindness to his grandson, and win from him, if it might be possible, reciprocal courtesy and complaisance. "Your mother will be very pleased when she hears this," he said. "I meant to tell my mother," said Peregrine, still very dolefully, "but I do not know that there is any thing in it to please her. I only said that I-I admired Miss Staveley." "My dear boy, if you'll take my advice you'll propose to her at once. You have been staying in the same house with her, and-" "But I have." "Have what?" "I have proposed to her." "Well ?" "And she has refused me. You know all about it now, and there's no such great cause for joy." "Oh, a fellow that's there. The man who broke his arm. I don't say she does, you know, and of course you won't mention it." Sir Peregrine gave the necessary promises, and then endeavored to give encouragement to the lover. He would himself see the judge, if it were thought expedient, and explain what liberal settlement would be made on the lady in the event of her altering her mind. "Young ladies, you know, are very prone to alter their minds on such matters," said the old man. In answer to which Peregrine declared his conviction that Madeline Staveley would not alter her mind. But then do not all despondent lovers hold that opinion of their own mistresses? Sir Peregrine had been a great gainer by what had occurred, and so he felt it. At any rate all the novelty of the question of his own marriage was over, as between him and Peregrine; and then he had acquired a means of being gracious, which must almost disarm his grandson of all power of criticism. When he, an old man, was ready to do so much to forward the views of a young man, could it be possible that the young man should oppose his wishes? And Peregrine was aware that his power of opposition was thus lessened. In the evening nothing remarkable occurred between them. Each had his or her own plans; but these plans could not be furthered by any thing to be said in a general assembly. Lady Mason had already told to Mrs. Orme all that had passed in the drawing-room before dinner, and Sir Peregrine had determined that he would consult Mrs. Orme as to that matter regarding Miss Staveley. He did not think much of her refusal. Young ladies always do refuse -at first. On the day but one following this there came another visit from Mr. Furnival, and he was for a long time closeted with Sir Peregrine. Matthew Round had, he said, been with him, and had felt himself obliged in the performance of his duty to submit a case to counsel on behalf of his client Joseph Mason. He had not as yet received the written opinion of Sir Rich "Oh, you have proposed to her. Have you ard Leatheram, to whom he had applied; but spoken to her father or mother?" nevertheless, as he wished to give every possible "What was the use when she told me plainly notice, he had called to say that his firm were that she did not care for me? Of course I of opinion that an action must be brought either should have asked her father. As to Lady for forgery or for perjury. Staveley, she and I got on uncommonly well. I'm almost inclined to think that she would not have objected." "It would be a very nice match for them, and I dare say she would not have objected." And then for some ten minutes they sat looking at the fire. Peregrine had nothing more to say about it, and the baronet was thinking how best he might encourage his grandson. "For perjury!" Mr. Furnival had said. "Well; yes. We would wish to be as little harsh as possible. But if we convict her of having sworn falsely when she gave evidence as to having copied the codicil herself, and having seen it witnessed by the pretended witnesses-why in that case of course the property would go back." "I can't give any opinion as to what might |