Mr. Melbury's tone evinced a certain exultation in the very sense of

that inferiority he affected to deplore; for this advanced and refined

being, was she not his own all the time? Not so Giles; he felt

doubtful--perhaps a trifle cynical--for that strand was wound into him

with the rest. He looked at his clothes with misgiving, then with

indifference.

It was his custom during the planting season to carry a specimen

apple-tree to market with him as an advertisement of what he dealt in.

This had been tied across the gig; and as it would be left behind in

the town, it would cause no inconvenience to Miss Grace Melbury coming

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home.

He drove away, the twigs nodding with each step of the horse; and

Melbury went in-doors. Before the gig had passed out of sight, Mr.

Melbury reappeared and shouted after-"Here, Giles," he said, breathlessly following with some wraps, "it may

be very chilly to-night, and she may want something extra about her.

And, Giles," he added, when the young man, having taken the articles,

put the horse in motion once more, "tell her that I should have come

myself, but I had particular business with Mrs. Charmond's agent, which

prevented me. Don't forget."

He watched Winterborne out of sight, saying, with a jerk--a shape into

which emotion with him often resolved itself--"There, now, I hope the

two will bring it to a point and have done with it! 'Tis a pity to let

such a girl throw herself away upon him--a thousand pities!...And yet

'tis my duty for his father's sake."




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