On the next morning Arabella went to church as did of course a great many of the party. By remaining at home she could only have excited suspicion. The church was close to the house, and the family pew consisted of a large room screened off from the rest of the church, with a fire-place of its own,—so that the labour of attending divine service was reduced to a minimum. At two o\'clock they lunched, and that amusement lasted nearly an hour. There was an afternoon service at three in attending which the Duchess was very particular. The Duke never went at that time nor was it expected that any of the gentlemen would do so; but women are supposed to require more church than men, and the Duchess rather made it a point that at any rate the young ladies staying in the house should accompany her. Over the other young ladies there her authority could only be that of influence, but such authority generally sufficed. From her niece it might be supposed that she would exact obedience, and in this instance she tried it. "We start in five minutes," she said to Arabella as that young lady was loitering at the table.

"Don\'t wait for me, aunt; I\'m not going," said Arabella boldly.

"I hope you will come to church with us," said the Duchess sternly.

"Not this afternoon."

"Why not, Arabella?"

"I never do go to church twice on Sundays. Some people do, and some people don\'t. I suppose that\'s about it."

"I think that all young women ought to go to church on Sunday afternoon unless there is something particular to prevent them." Arabella shrugged her shoulders and the Duchess stalked angrily away.

"That makes me feel so awfully wicked," said the Duchess of Omnium, who was the only other lady then left in the room. Then she got up and went out and Arabella of course followed her. Lord Rufford had heard it all but had stood at the window and said nothing. He had not been to church at all, and was quite accustomed to the idea that as a young nobleman who only lived for pleasure he was privileged to be wicked. Had the Duchess of Mayfair been blessed with a third daughter fit for marriage she would not have thought of repudiating such a suitor as Lord Rufford because he did not go to church.

When the house was cleared Arabella went upstairs and put on her hat. It was a bright beautiful winter\'s day, not painfully cold because the air was dry, but still a day that warranted furs and a muff. Having prepared herself she made her way alone to a side door which led from a branch of the hall on to the garden terrace, and up and down that she walked two or three times,—so that any of the household that saw her might perceive that she had come out simply for exercise. At the end of the third turn instead of coming back she went on quickly to the conservatory and took the path which led round to the further side. There was a small lawn here fitted for garden games, and on the other end of it an iron gate leading to a path into the woods. At the further side of the iron gate and leaning against it, stood Lord Rufford smoking a cigar. She did not pause a moment but hurried across the lawn to join him. He opened the gate and she passed through. "I\'m not going to be done by a dragon," she said as she took her place alongside of him.

"Upon my word, Miss Trefoil, I don\'t think I ever knew a human being with so much pluck as you have got."

"Girls have to have pluck if they don\'t mean to be sat upon;—a great deal more than men. The idea of telling me that I was to go to church as though I were twelve years old!"

"What would she say if she knew that you were walking here with me?"

"I don\'t care what she\'d say. I dare say she walked with somebody once;—only I should think the somebody must have found it very dull."

"Does she know that you\'re to hunt to-morrow?"

"I haven\'t told her and don\'t mean. I shall just come down in my habit and hat and say nothing about it. At what time must we start?"

"The carriages are ordered for half-past nine. But I\'m afraid you haven\'t clearly before your eyes all the difficulties which are incidental to hunting."

"What do you mean?"

"It looks as like a black frost as anything I ever saw in my life."

"But we should go?"

"The horses won\'t be there if there is a really hard frost. Nobody would stir. It will be the first question I shall ask the man when he comes to me, and if there have been seven or eight degrees of frost I shan\'t get up."

"How am I to know?"

"My man shall tell your maid. But everybody will soon know all about it. It will alter everything."

"I think I shall go mad."

"In white satin?"

"No;—in my habit and hat. It will be the hardest thing, after all! I ought to have insisted on going to Holcombe Cross on Friday. The sun is shining now. Surely it cannot freeze."

"It will be uncommonly ill-bred if it does."

But, after all, the hunting was not the main point. The hunting had been only intended as an opportunity; and if that were to be lost,—in which case Lord Rufford would no doubt at once leave Mistletoe,—there was the more need for using the present hour, the more for using even the present minute. Though she had said that the sun was shining, it was the setting sun, and in another half hour the gloom of the evening would be there. Even Lord Rufford would not consent to walk about with her in the dark. "Oh, Lord Rufford," she said, "I did so look forward to your giving me another lead." Then she put her hand upon his arm and left it there.

"It would have been nice," said he, drawing her hand a little on, and remembering as he did so his own picture of himself on the cliff with his sister holding his coat-tails.

"If you could possibly know," she said, "the condition I am in."

"What condition?"

"I know that I can trust you. I am sure that I can trust you."

"Oh dear, yes. If you mean about telling, I never tell anything."

"That\'s what I do mean. You remember that man at your place?"

"What man? Poor Caneback?"

"Oh dear no! I wish they could change places because then he could give me no more trouble."

"That\'s wishing him to be dead, whoever he is."

"Yes. Why should he persecute me? I mean that man we were staying with at Bragton."

"Mr. Morton?"

"Of course I do. Don\'t you remember your asking me about him, and my telling you that I was not engaged to him?"

"I remember that."

"Mamma and this horrid old Duchess here want me to marry him. They\'ve got an idea that he is going to be ambassador at Pekin or something very grand, and they\'re at me day and night."

"You needn\'t take him unless you like him."

"They do make me so miserable!" And then she leaned heavily upon his arm. He was a man who could not stand such pressure as this without returning it. Though he were on the precipice, and though he must go over, still he could not stand it. "You remember that night after the ball?"

"Indeed I do."

"And you too had asked me whether I cared for that horrid man."

"I didn\'t see anything horrid. You had been staying at his house and people had told me. What was I to think?"

"You ought to have known what to think. There; let me go,"—for now he had got his arm round her waist. "You don\'t care for me a bit. I know you don\'t. It would be all the same to you whom I married;—or whether I died."

"You don\'t think that, Bella?" He fancied that he had hea............