The tardy gig had overtaken me at last. I entered it, and bade theman who brought it drive to Grassdale Manor - I was too busy withmy own thoughts to care to drive it myself. I would see Mrs.Huntingdon - there could be no impropriety in that now that herhusband had been dead above a year - and by her indifference or herjoy at my unexpected arrival I could soon tell whether her heartwas truly mine. But my companion, a loquacious, forward fellow,was not disposed to leave me to the indulgence of my privatecogitations.

'There they go!' said he, as the carriages filed away before us.'There'll be brave doings on yonder to-day, as what come to-morra.- Know anything of that family, sir? or you're a stranger in theseparts?'

'I know them by report.'

'Humph! There's the best of 'em gone, anyhow. And I suppose theold missis is agoing to leave after this stir's gotten overed, andtake herself off, somewhere, to live on her bit of a jointure; andthe young 'un - at least the new 'un (she's none so very young) -is coming down to live at the Grove.'

'Is Mr. Hargrave married, then?'

'Ay, sir, a few months since. He should a been wed afore, to awidow lady, but they couldn't agree over the money: she'd a rarelong purse, and Mr. Hargrave wanted it all to hisself; but shewouldn't let it go, and so then they fell out. This one isn'tquite as rich, nor as handsome either, but she hasn't been marriedbefore. She's very plain, they say, and getting on to forty orpast, and so, you know, if she didn't jump at this hopportunity,she thought she'd never get a better. I guess she thought such ahandsome young husband was worth all 'at ever she had, and he mighttake it and welcome, but I lay she'll rue her bargain afore long.They say she begins already to see 'at he isn't not altogether thatnice, generous, perlite, delightful gentleman 'at she thought himafore marriage - he begins a being careless and masterful already.Ay, and she'll find him harder and carelesser nor she thinks on.'

'You seem to be well acquainted with him,' I observed.

'I am, sir; I've known him since he was quite a young gentleman;and a proud 'un he was, and a wilful. I was servant yonder forseveral years; but I couldn't stand their niggardly ways - she gotever longer and worse, did missis, with her nipping and screwing,and watching and grudging; so I thought I'd find another place.'

'Are we not near the house?' said I, interrupting him.

'Yes, sir; yond's the park.'

My heart sank within me to behold that stately mansion in the midstof its expansive grounds. The park as beautiful now, in its wintrygarb, as it could be in its summer glory: the majestic sweep, theundulating swell and fall, displayed to full advantage in that robeof dazzling purity, stainless and printless - save one long,winding track left by the trooping deer - the stately timber-treeswith their heavy-laden branches gleaming white against the dull,grey sky; the deep, encircling woods; the broad expanse of watersleeping in frozen quiet; and the weeping ash and willow droopingtheir snow-clad boughs above it - all presented a picture, strikingindeed, and pleasing to an unencumbered mind, but by no meansencouraging to me. There was one comfort, however, - all this wasentailed upon little Arthur, and could not under any circumstances,strictly speaking, be his mother's. But how was she situated?Overcoming with a sudden effort my repugnance to mention her nameto my garrulous companion, I asked him if he knew whether her latehusband had left a will, and how the property had been disposed of.Oh, yes, he knew all about it; and I was quickly informed that toher had been left the full control and management of the estateduring her son's minority, besides the absolute, unconditionalpossession of her own fortune (but I knew that her father had notgiven her much), and the small additional sum that had been settledupon her before marriage.

Before the close of the explanation we drew up at the park-gates.Now for the trial. If I should find her within - but alas! shemight be still at Staningley: her brother had given me nointimation to the contrary. I inquired at the porter's lodge ifMrs. Huntingdon were at home. No, she was with her aunt in -shire,but was expected to return before Christmas. She usually spentmost of her time at Staningley, only coming to Grassdaleoccasionally, when the management of affairs, or the interest ofher tenants and dependents, required her presence.

'Near what town is Staningley situated?' I asked. The requisiteinformation was soon obtained. 'Now then, my man, give me thereins, and we'll return to M-. I must have some breakfast at the"Rose and Crown," and then away to Staningley by the first coachfor -.'

At M- I had time before the coach started to replenish my forceswith a hearty breakfast, and to obtain the refreshment of my usualmorning's ablutions, and the amelioration of some slight change inmy toilet, and also to despatch a short note to my mother(excellent son that I was), to assure her that I was still inexistence, and to excuse my non-appearance at the expected time.It was a long journey to Staningley for those slow-travelling days,but I did not deny myself needful refreshment on the road, nor evena night's rest at a wayside inn, choosing rather to brook a littledelay than to present myself worn, wild, and weather-beaten beforemy mistress and her aunt, who would be astonished enough to see mewithout that. Next morning, therefore, I not only fortified myselfwith as substantial a breakfast as my excited feelings would allowme to swallow, but I bestowed a little more than usual time andcare upon my toilet; and, furnished with a change of linen from mysmall carpet-bag, well-brushed clothes, well-polished boots, andneat new gloves, I mounted 'The Lightning,' and resumed my journey.I had nearly two stages yet before me, but the coach, I wasinformed, passed through the neighbourhood of Staningley, andhaving desired to be set down as near the Hall as possible, I hadnothing to do but to sit with folded arms and speculate upon thecoming hour.

It was a clear, frosty morning. The very fact of sitting exaltedaloft, surveying the snowy landscape and sweet sunny sky, inhalingthe pure, bracing air, and crunching away over the crisp frozensnow, was exhilarating enough in itself; but add to this the ideaof to what goal I was hastening, and whom I expected to meet, andyou may have some faint conception of my frame of mind at the time- only a faint one, though: for my heart swelled with unspeakabledelight, and my spirits rose almost to madness, in spite of myprudent endeavours to bind them down to a reasonable platitude bythinking of the undeniable difference between Helen's rank andmine; of all that she had passed through since our parting; of herlong, unbroken silence; and, above all, of her cool, cautious aunt,whose counsels she would doubtless be careful not to slight again.These considerations made my heart flutter with anxiety, and mychest heave with impatience to get the crisis over; but they couldnot dim her image in my mind, or mar the vivid recollection of whathad been said and felt between us, or destroy the keen anticipationof what was to be: in fact, I could not realise their terrors now.Towards the close of the journey, however, a couple of my fellow-passengers kindly came to my assistance, and brought me low enough.

'Fine land this,' said one of them, pointing with his umbrella tothe wide fields on the right, conspicuous for their compacthedgerows, deep, well-cut ditches, and fine timber-trees, growingsometimes on the borders, sometimes in the midst of the enclosure:'very fine land, if you saw it in the summer or spring.'

'Ay,' responded the other, a gruff elderly man, with a drabgreatcoat buttoned up to the chin, and a cotton umbrella betweenhis knees. 'It's old Maxwell's, I suppose.'

'It was his, sir; but he's dead now, you're aware, and has left itall to his niece.'

'All?'

'Every rood of it, and the mansion-house and all! every hatom ofhis worldly goods, except just a trifle, by way of remembrance, tohis nephew down in -shire, and an annuity to his wife.'

'It's strange, sir!'

'It is, sir; and she wasn't his own niece neither. But he had nonear relations of his own - none but a nephew he'd quarrelled with;and he always had a partiality for this one. And then his wifeadvised him to it, they say: she'd brought most of the property,and it was her wish that this lady should have it.'

'Humph! She'll be a fine catch for somebody.'

'She will so. She's a widow, but quite young yet, and uncommonhandsome: a fortune of her own, besides, and only one child, andshe's nursing a fine estate for him in -. There'll be lots tospeak for her! 'fraid there's no chance for uz' - (facetiouslyjogging me with his elbow, as well as his companion) - 'ha, ha, ha!No offence, sir, I hope?' - (to me). 'Ahem! I should think she'llmarry none but a nobleman myself. Look ye, sir,' resumed he,turning to his other neighbour, and pointing past me with hisumbrella, 'that's the Hall: grand park, you see, and all themwoods - plenty of timber there, and lots of game. Hallo! whatnow?'

This exclamation was occasioned by the sudden stoppage of the coachat the park-gates.

'Gen'leman for Staningley Hall?' cried the coachman and I rose andthrew my carpet-bag on to the ground, preparatory to droppingmyself down after it.

'Sickly, sir?' asked my talkative neighbour, staring me in theface. I daresay it was white enough.

'No. Here, coachman!'

'Thank'ee, sir. - All right!'

The coachman pocketed his fee and drove away, leaving me, notwalking up the park, but pacing to and fro before its gates, withfolded arms, and eyes fixed upon the ground, an overwhelming forceof images, thoughts, impressions crowding on my mind, and nothingtangibly distinct but this: My love had been cherished in vain -my hope was gone for ever; I must tear myself away at once, andbanish or suppress all thoughts of her, like the remembrance of awild, mad dream. Gladly would I have lingered round the place forhours, in the hope of catching at least one distant glimpse of herbefore I went, but it must not be - I must not suffer her to seeme; for what could have brought me hither but the hope of revivingher attachment, with a view hereafter to obtain her hand? Andcould I bear that she should think me capable of such a thing? - ofpresuming upon the acquaintance - the love, if you will -accidentally contracted, or rather forced upon her against herwill, when she was an unknown fugitive, toiling for her ownsupport, apparently without fortune, family, or connections; tocome upon her now, when she was reinstated in her proper sphere,and claim a share in her prosperity, which, had it never failedher, would most certainly have kept her unknown to me for ever?And this, too, when we had parted sixteen months ago, and she hadexpressly forbidden me to hope for a re-union in this world, andnever sent me a line or a message from that day to this. No! Thevery idea was intolerable.

And even if she should have a lingering affection for me still,ought I to disturb her peace by awakening those feelings? tosubject her to the struggles of conflicting duty and inclination -to whichsoever side the latter might allure, or the formerimperatively call her - whether she should deem it her duty to riskthe slights and censures of the world, the sorrow and displeasureof those she loved, for a romantic idea of truth and constancy tome, or to sacrifice her individual wishes to the feelings of herfriends and her own sense of prudence and the fitness of things?No - and I would not! I would go at once, and she should neverknow that I had approached the place of her abode: for though Imight disclaim all idea of ever aspiring to her hand, or even ofsoliciting a place in her friendly regard, her peace should not bebroken by my presence, nor her heart afflicted by the sight of myfidelity.

'Adieu then, dear Helen, forever! Forever adieu!'

So said I - and yet I could not tear myself away. I moved a fewpaces, and then looked back, for one last view of her stately home,that I might have its outward form, at least, impressed upon mymind as indelibly as her own image, which, alas! I must not seeagain - then walked a few steps further; and then, lost inmelancholy musings, paused again and leant my back against a roughold tree that grew beside the road.