lity, and public spirit which Mr. Langley had always borne.
"As if I had any right to feel proud of him!" she thought, and then glanced at Cilla, the real object of her pride; and a delightful vision began to float before her, dispersed in a moment as she remembered how papa would despise such castle building. Mrs. Lester did not forget her young charges: she had promised her brother to be kind to them, and she thoroughly fulfilled her promise. She had little difficulty in finding partners for two such attractive girls; and indeed when Cilla had once been noticed, her chaperone had numerous applications for an introduction. Mary's bright eyes danced with pleasure as she watched her sister, and Mrs. Lester looked at her often and with much interest.
"She is the nicest girl I ever saw in my life," Mrs. Lester thought: "and if it is to be, I won't forbid the banns. Still it would be a pity." And she glanced at her brother who was dancing with a very handsome girl, daughter to one of the county magnates.
It was not until late in the evening that Mr. Langley came up to Mary again.
Cilla, who had just been dancing, was resting on a seat, looking flushed and weary, but full of enjoyment. Mary had had her share of dancing too; Harry alone had found the evening rather slow.
"Won't you come and have something to eat? The hall is open now."
Mary and Mr. Langley passed into the conservatory, which opened also into the hall, now converted into a supper-room.
"What a crowd of people!" he said, pausing. "Don't you think it would be better to stay here among the orange-trees than to plunge into that hungry multitude? Shall I get you something? An ice?"
"If you please," said Mary, and they were soon comfortably established on two low green seats in the conservatory. The coloured lamps twinkled among the dark foliage, bright figures passed and repassed, a soft continuous ripple of voice and laughter mingled with the music from the ballroom.
"I have been trying to get near you all this evening, but I have been obliged to attend to so many people. I hope my sister has taken care of you."
"She has been so very kind, and my sister and I have enjoyed ourselves extremely."
"I suppose it is her first ball—and yours too. Is it?"
Mary laughed:
"Our first, and probably our last. You do not know what a treat you have given us: it was so very kind of you and Mrs. Lester to think of asking us."
"Kind?" he repeated, smiling; "it was very kind of you to come, I think."
"By-the-by," asked Mary, suddenly, "what did you mean by asking me if we had heard something?"
"You have not heard it, evidently," said Mr. Langley, hesitating. "I am sorry I said anything about it. Is there no second post at Farley?"
"Not unless we send to Brigham."
"That accounts for it; they wrote to tell me as soon as it happened. Poor old Dr. Lowther died yesterday morning."
Mary felt shocked.
"I had no idea he was really ill," she said in an awe-struck voice.
"It is the old story of boy and wolf," said Mr. Langley. "Poor old fellow! I really fancy he might have lived to ninety if he could have thought less about his health; but a man can't go on taking physic all his life without taking too much of it at last."
"Poor Dr. Lowther! I hardly knew him, but he used to be kind to us when we were little. Once he gave me a prayer-book. I wonder," Mary added, after a pause, "who our new rector will be!"
Mr. Langley hesitated. Mary looked up, and saw something in his face which made her fancy that her remark had been somehow mal-apropos.
"I beg your pardon," she said, instinctively.
"For what?" he asked, amused by her perplexity; "I only thought that perhaps you knew the Farley living to be in my gift. I bought it with the Nettlehurst estate. I hoped—I do hope—" Mr. Langley hesitated. "Do you think that Mr. Mackworth would kindly undertake the responsibility? He has long done all the work, I know."
Mary's breath was absolutely taken away by surprise and emotion. She looked up with a wondering, incredulous gaze: then tried to speak; then stopped, and nearly broke down altogether. Mr. Langley brought her a glass of water.
"I am ashamed of myself," she said, as soon as she could; then his looks of warm interest encouraging her to speak frankly, she went on. "But you don't know the relief! You don't know what life has been all these years for papa and mamma, Cilla and Harry. They will thank you better than
