Tom,--what's your name?--here, my man, here, throw that portmanteau on
your shoulder and come to the lodge." And so, full of health, hope,
vivacity, and spirit, John Walter Ardworth departed on his career.

Meanwhile Mainwaring slowly took his way to Sir Miles. As he approached
the gallery, he met Lucretia, who was coming from her own room. "Sir
Miles has sent for me," he said meaningly. He had time for no more, for
the valet was at the door of the gallery, waiting to usher him to his
host. "Ha! you will say not a word that can betray us; guard your looks
too!" whispered Lucretia, hurriedly; "afterwards, join me by the cedars."
She passed on towards the staircase, and glanced at the large clock that
was placed there. "Past eleven! Vernon is never up before twelve. I
must see him before my uncle sends for me, as he will send if he
suspects--" She paused, went back to her room, rang for her maid,
dressed as for walking, and said carelessly, "If Sir Miles wants me, I am
gone to the rectory, and shall probably return by the village, so that I
shall be back about one." Towards the rectory, indeed, Lucretia bent her
way; but half-way there, turned back, and passing through the plantation
at the rear of the house, awaited Mainwaring on the bench beneath the
cedars. He was not long before he joined her. His face was sad and
thoughtful; and when he seated himself by her side, it was with a
weariness of spirit that alarmed her.

"Well," said she, fearfully, and she placed her hand on his.

"Oh, Lucretia," he exclaimed, as he pressed that hand with an emotion
that came from other passions than love, "we, or rather I, have done
great wrong. I have been leading you to betray your uncle's trust, to
convert your gratitude to him into hypocrisy. I have been unworthy of
myself. I am poor, I am humbly born, but till I came here, I was rich