surrounding gentry and nobility of Derbyshire, Nottingham, and Stafford.
She had met but few even of them, and their lives had been spent chiefly
in drinking, hunting, and gambling--accomplishments that do not fine down
the texture of a man's nature or fit him for a lady's bower. Sir John
Manners was a revelation to Dorothy; and she, poor girl, was bewildered
and bewitched by him.

When John had mounted and was moving away, he looked up to the window
where Dorothy stood, and a light came to her eyes and a smile to her face
which no man who knows the sum of two and two can ever mistake if he but
once sees it.

When I saw the light in Dorothy's eyes, I knew that all the hatred that
was ever born from all the feuds that had ever lived since the quarrelling
race of man began its feuds in Eden could not make Dorothy Vernon hate the
son of her father's enemy.

"I was--was--watching him draw smoke through the--the little stick which
he holds in his mouth, and--and blow it out again," said Dorothy, in
explanation of her attitude. She blushed painfully and continued, "I hope
you do not think--"

"I do not think," I answered. "I would not think of thinking."

"Of course not," she responded, with a forced smile, as she watched Sir
John pass out of sight under the arch of the innyard gate. I did not
think. I knew. And the sequel, so full of trouble, soon proved that I was
right. After John had passed through the gate, Dorothy was willing to go
home; and when Will Dawson brought the great coach to the inn door, I
mounted my horse and rode beside the ladies to Haddon Hall, two miles