THE PANELLED HOUSE.

143

tion.” And he led the way through the gate into the
| pasture edged with elm-wood, and spread his spruce
| silk handkerchief to make a dry seat for Winny ;
| for Escott was a gentleman, whatever his faults.

| “TI give you my word of honour, Winny,” he
| said eagerly, “ that I am wrongfully aceused and
| could not clear myself.
it is, that they have sent me down for a year.”

“Sent you down!” said Winny with a face of
| blank horror, for to her this was equivalent to life-
long disgrace.

‘Sent me down,” said Escott. ‘ And a nice
business I shall have of it with the governor. I
don’t believe there ever existed such an unlucky
dog as I am!” +

“What do they accuse you of ?”

“Well, the Dean had a practical joke played
upon him, nothing at all amusing, but exceedingly
foolish and ill bred, and the man who did it came
and implored me to screen him; mind -Winny, this
is in the strictest secrecy, but I can trust you. It
would have made all the difference to his whole
life, for he has a straitlaced old uncle, immensely
rich, whose heir he expects to be, if he behaves
himself; and what he did he did when he was
drunk, and was awfully sorry for it when he got
sober again, as you may think. So there was
nothing else to be done. I don’t know what dif-
ference exactly it will make to me, beyond a year’s
delay in taking my degree, and a year’s jobation
from my father, and that I can stand, so long as
you know the truth, Winny.”

Winny’s face flushed with pride, and her heart

beat high. She was really and truly proud of)

Escott now for the first time; for though she had
long loved him, her love had always been mixed
with pity. She clasped her hands together, and
said, “Oh, Escott, how good of you! And you
sacrificed yourself for him ?”

“T could not well do any thing else,” said Escott. |
| hundred and never set eyes on you again: I should
never dream of liking any body else in the same |

“Winny, I am so glad that I met you, for now

that I know you will believe me I can go through

with every thing. But I could not have borne you
to think I had done it, as they say I did.”

“T am so glad too,” said Winny; “for now I
know that they ought to be proud of you, instead
of making your life a burden to you. Shall you
tell Flora?”

“No,” said Escott. “Flora can’t hold her

|
tongue; she would be for ever at me to find out

| who the man is, and do it in all sorts of roundabout

ways, which I can’t fathom, so that she would |
probably get it from me some day, when I was not

| thinking about it.”

“ You make her out a very Delilah,” said Winny,
| laughing. “But never mind, Escott. I will keep
| your secret for ever, and wild horses should not
| tear it from me.”

‘**T have no fear of the wild horses,” said Escott ;
“but can you say as much for your aunts, when
they say, ‘What a pity it is, that that good Hugh
Armyn should have such a scapegrace of a son!’”
and he put on what was meant to be an imitation

| of Aunt Immy’s manner, but failed so signally that
But the long and short of |

Winny burst out laughing, and told him not to
mimic her aunts, at least until he could do it better.

“Seriously, Escott,” said Winny, “you may
trust me. I know it will be very hard, when I

| hear you abused, but I can purse up my lips, and

say nothing. But oh; it is very horrid to think of
your being blamed for what you have not done.
Jt will be much more horrid for you than for most

| people, I believe.”

“JT sha’n’t care so long as you know all about it.
I knew you would believe me. Oh, Winny, I
wonder what I should do without you! Some-
times I try to fancy what it would be if you were
to give me up. I think I should cut my throat if
you did.”

“Escott!” said Winny with a shiver, “don’t
say such awful things, please. Of course I would
never give you up; but one never knows what
may be in the future, and there may be other
things that might come between us.”

«And you can think of the possibility quictly
like that!” said Escott, almost angrily. ‘ Well, I
suppose it would not be the same for you: you
have every thing that can be to make you happy,
and you might get on very well without me. But
if you can contemplate it so coolly—well, all I can
say is that the man in ‘Locksley Hall’ was right
when he said women were ‘as moonlight unto
sunlight, and as water unto wine !’”

“Don’t be angry with me, Escott,” pleaded poor
Winny. ‘ There’s nothing I wouldn’t do rather
than give you up, and J don’t see any reason why
it should ever come to that. I believe I should be
true to you to the end of my life, if I lived to be a

way. But I can’t help thinking all the same that
every thing is not certain in this life.”

The tears in her eyes brought compunction to
Escott. “You poor little thing, I beg your
pardon. I did not mean to fly out upon you,
Winny. But you know what I am, and this
Oxford affair has not improved my state of mind.
Must you go?” as she rose.

“Yes, I must, they will be wanting me,” she
said, smiling with dewy eyes.

“But you are not angry with me?”

“ Angry with you? Proud of you!”

«J don’t see any reason to be proud of me. I
could not help it, of course.”

“No,” said Winny, laughing, “but I am proud
that you could not help it. Perhaps you'll still

|

—————)