other full of all sorts of old-fashioned flowers, stocks, sweet-williams, primroses, pansies, mingled with southernwood, sweet-briar, and various fragrant herbs. They were fresh now as a succession of April showers and gleams, followed by a lovely spring morning, could make them. The sun was just entering the dappled east, and his light illumined the wreathed and dewy orchard trees and shone down the quiet walks under them.
"Jane, will you have a flower?"
He gathered a half-blown rose, the first on the bush, and offered it to me.
"Thank you, sir."
"Do you like this sunrise, Jane? That sky with its high and light clouds which are sure to melt away as the day waxes warm—this placid and balmy atmosphere?"
"I do, very much."
"You have passed a strange night, Jane."
"Yes, sir."
"And it has made you look pale—were you afraid when I left you alone with Mason?"
"I was afraid of someone coming out of the inner room."
"But I had fastened the door—I had the key in my pocket. I should have been a careless shepherd if I had left a lamb— my pet lamb—so near a wolf's den, unguarded; you were safe."
"Will Grace Poole live here still, sir?"
"Oh yes! don't trouble your head about her—put the thing out of your thoughts."
"Yet it seems to me your life is hardly secure while she stays."
"Never fear—I will take care of myself."
"Is the danger you apprehended last night gone by now, sir?"
"I cannot vouch for that till Mason is out of England; nor even then. To live, for me, Jane, is to stand on a crater-crust which may crack and spew fire any day."
"But Mr. Mason seems a man easily led. Your influence, sir, is evidently potent with him: he will never set you at defiance or wilfully injure you."
"Oh, no! Mason will not defy me; nor, knowing it, will he hurt me—but, unintentionally, he might in a moment, by one careless word, deprive me, if not of life, yet forever of happiness."
"Tell him to be cautious, sir; let him know what you fear, and show him how to avert the danger."
He laughed sardonically, hastily took my hand, and as hastily threw it from him.
"If I could do that, simpleton, where would the danger be? Annihilated in a moment. Ever since I have known Mason, I have only had to say to him 'Do that,' and the thing has been done. But I cannot give him orders in this case; I cannot say 'Beware of harming me, Richard;' for it is imperative that I should keep him ignorant that harm to me is possible. Now you
