"Indeed! and yet it is generally considered such a dull place."

"It has not been so to me. It will always be a shining spot in my memory,
different and distinct from all other places."

She looked up at him, wondering a little at his earnest tone, and their
eyes met--his full of tenderness, hers only shy and surprised. It was not
then that the words he had to speak could be spoken, and he let the
conversation drift into a general discussion of the merits of town or
country life. But he was determined that the words should be spoken very
soon.

He went to the cottage next day, between three and four upon a drowsy
summer afternoon, and was so fortunate as to find Marian sitting under
one of the walnut-trees at the end of the garden reading a novel, with
her faithful Skye terrier in attendance. He seated himself on a low
garden-chair by her side, and took the book gently from her hand.

"I have come to spoil your afternoon's amusement," he said. "I have not
many days more to spend in Lidford, you know, and I want to make the most
of a short time."

"The book is not particularly interesting," Miss Nowell answered,
laughing. "I'll go and tell my uncle you are here. He is taking an
afternoon nap; but I know he'll be pleased to see you."

"Don't tell him just yet," said Mr. Fenton, detaining her. "I have
something to say to you this afternoon,--something that it is wiser to
say at once, perhaps, though I have been willing enough to put off the