puffing away towards the village, and I, like a faithful warden, from my
post at the castle, all looking out for the truant."

"But who wants me, cousin?" said Lucretia, with the full blaze of her
rare and captivating smile.

"The knight of Laughton confessedly wants thee, O damsel! The knight of
the Bleeding Heart may want thee more,--dare he own it?"

And with a hand that trembled a little, not with love, at least, it
trembled always a little before the Madeira at luncheon,--he lifted hers
to his lips.

"Compliments again,--words, idle words!" said Lucretia, looking down
bashfully.

"How can I convince thee of my sincerity, unless thou takest my life as
its pledge, maid of Laughton?"

And very much tired of standing, Charley Vernon drew her gently to the
bench and seated himself by her side. Lucretia's eyes were still
downcast, and she remained silent; Vernon, suppressing a yawn, felt that
he was bound to continue. There was nothing very formidable in
Lucretia's manner.

"'Fore Gad!" thought he, "I suppose I must take the heiress after all;
the sooner 't is over, the sooner I can get back to Brook Street."

"It is premature, my fair cousin," said he, aloud,--"premature, after
less than a week's visit, and only some fourteen or fifteen hours'