"Allow me to welcome you to Church Leet, Mr. Grame. My father chances to
be absent to-day; he is gone to Evesham."

"So the clerk told me, or I should have called this morning to pay my
respects to him, and to thank him for his generous and most unexpected
patronage of me. I got here last night," concluded Mr. Grame, standing
uncovered as when he had saluted Lucy. Eliza Monk liked his pleasant
voice, his taking manners: her fancy went out to him there and then.

"But though papa is absent, you will walk up with me now to the Hall to
make acquaintance with my aunt, Mrs. Carradyne," said Eliza, in those
tones that, gracious though they were, sounded in the light of a
command--just as poor Katherine's had always sounded. And Mr. Grame went
with her.

But now--handsome though she was, gracious though she meant to be--there
was something about Eliza Monk that seemed to repulse Robert Grame,
rather than attract him. Lucy had fascinated him; she repelled. Other
people had experienced the same kind of repulsion, but knew not where it
lay.

Hubert, the heir, about twenty-five now, came forward to greet the
stranger as they entered the Hall. No repulsion about _him_. Robert
Grame's hand met his with a warm clasp. A young man of gentle manners
and a face of rare beauty--but oh, so suspiciously delicate! Perhaps it
was the extreme slenderness of the frame, the wan look in the refined
features and their bright hectic that drew forth the clergyman's
sympathy. An impression came over him that this young man was not long
for earth.