your head is to be touched. I shall interfere
no more."

A thrill was at Conway's heart.
"Whatever be the motive exciting you, Dudley,
we shall say no more about the matter."

"She is not well, and must have her
way. There! Have I said or done enough?"
He then went down into his boat and was
rowed away.

But there was another surprise for Conway
during that day. As he was preparing
his " shore toilette," a little troubled about
that illness out at Panton, a letter was
brought to him, which, as he read,
literally made his ears tingle.

"We have heard of the fracas of last
night, and all the gossips are busy with the
cause. I wish to be the first to offer
congratulations to you in your new character
of champion. What you will think of me
for writing to you in this fashion, I know
not, nor, indeed, care not. A poor clergyman's
daughter, I have no right to reprove,
or admonish one who is a mere stranger,
but who has had the glorious amusement
of taking me in. I own to you you
succeeded in that. Shame on you! for I
cannot write any longer with the conventional
formalities. You may well be proud of
what you have done. You have had your
amusement, which is a most honourable
one. But I write now to tell you, without
formal quarrel, but not without indignation,
that I decline to be the favoured object of
what is sport to you, and what, you would
not care, if it prove death to me. I
mistook you, and never dreamed you would
play so double a game. I do not blame
your change of conduct or of views; but I
must tell you plainly—and my character is
disfigured by something like bluntness—
that an interval of an hour to make such a
change seemed needlessly cruel and
unfeeling. As I am speaking candidly, and
have some regard for your true interest, I
may tell you that that partiality and attention,
which you flatter yourself is owing to
your own attraction, is in a great measure
owing to me; that is, to a special dislike
and jealousy with which I have been visited
for several years now. It was enough that
you were seen to show some regard for me,
to excite what you might reasonably take
for a partiality for yourself. It is because
I have this interest in you that I would not
have you deceived—though I know to what
ungenerous motives I risk having this
interference set down. In my short life I
have never cared for appearances, as,
indeed, they will all tell you in this place.
That you may succeed, too, in the venture
you have undertaken in pursuit of the
tempting bait of fortune and estate is quite
possible. For I believe her to be capable
of indulging her humour to this extent.
However, I feel that I have done my duty
in giving this warning, and ask no thanks;
only that we may continue on the footing
of an agreeable acquaintance, without
tempting me to reveal, for your entertainment,
what you might call the sacred
metaphysics of the heart.
                                                      JESSICA.

Conway was confounded by this epistle.
He seemed, as the expression runs, struck
of a heap. Afterwards came mortification,
then something like anger. " This is free
and easy indeed, and most engaging
candour!" Then he thought how strangely
blinded she could be by this mad dislike
and jealousy. It was appalling. " But
I disdain to set her right. Not a single
word shall I speak. It is always the
way. I am to be disappointed always; and
judge people better than they are." Mr.
Conway had a favourite metaphor about
people " showing the cloven foot," applying
the phrase even to slight misapprehension,
some shape of this malformation always
presenting itself. He was deeply hurt. It
was something of a shock too, as there was
a boldness, and, it seemed to him, even a
want of delicacy, in the tone of that letter,
so startingly brusque and forward. The
Honourable Mr. Conway was not
accustomed to such plain speaking.

In this frame of mind he went ashore,
and there heard a piece of news which was
still more unfortunate in driving him from
Jessica.

CHAPTER XV. A TEMPTING OFFER.

Some people had remarked a sort of
restless excitement about the young heiress
during the course of that festive night,
notably the friendly doctor. There was a
flush in her cheeks, a restlessness in her
eyes, which caused her watchful father some
anxiety. Her health was always as sensitive
as a delicate thermometer, and everything
round her left some mark. Walking
reflectively along, and in a very curious
frame of mind, quite uncertain what his
next step should be, Conway met the local
doctor striding on, flushed with
importance, as though in the exclusive possession
of news. " Such a dreadful thing, my dear
fellow! That poor girl, who was entertaining