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"The blame of the miserable business isn't yours. Sometimes I wonder if it's anybody's; if the newspaper game isn't just too strong for us who try to play it. As for The Searchlight, I've since got another hold on Bussey which will keep him from making any trouble. That's what I wanted to tell you." "Oh, what does it matter! What does it matter!" she moaned.

Mary and John found it difficult to surmount their embarrassment at the contretemps which had attended the introduction, or their perplexity over the cause of it. Laing was on thorns lest his distributions of parts and stations in life should be disclosed. The only bright feature was the congenial feeling which appeared at once to unite Miss Bussey and Sir Roger Deane.

John came to the rescue. With an awkward laugh he said: "Oh, you you attribute too much happiness to me. This is Miss Travers. I I Her aunt, Miss Bussey, and she have kindly allowed me to join their travelling party. Miss Bussey is at that table," and he pointed to "the old 'un."

In 1839 the agitation continued as vigorously as ever, and when it began to relax somewhat at the end of the year, Bussey, Taylor, and Frost hastened to call forth uprisings simultaneously in the North of England, in Yorkshire, and Wales. Frost's plan being betrayed, he was obliged to open hostilities prematurely. Those in the North heard of the failure of his attempt in time to withdraw.

Miss Bussey had always or at least for a great many years back maintained the general proposition that young people do not know their own minds. This morning's news confirmed her opinion. "Why the other day you both agreed that the middle of June would do perfectly. Now you want it all done in a scramble." The pair stood before her, looking very guilty.

Now Arthur Laing in his hasty survey of the party had arrived at a not unnatural but wholly erroneous conclusion. He took John and Mary for a newly married couple, and Miss Bussey for an old family servant detailed to look after her young mistress's entry into independent housekeeping. "More infernal honeymooners," he said to himself, as he washed his hands. "The place is always full of 'em.

She often wandered through the lovely walks in Bussey Woods, soft with fallen needles from pine and hemlock, and bright with abundant wild flowers, and drew glowing pictures from nature's wealth, which her pen has preserved for us. It was while living here she inaugurated the literary conversations, which produced such a marked effect upon the young and old of the women of the time.

Lastly, they were plighted lovers, and John was staying with Miss Bussey for the express purpose of delighting and being delighted by his fiancée, Mary Travers. For these and all their mercies certainly they should have been truly thankful. However the heart of man is wicked.

And the two fell to thinking just what was remarked a few lines back, namely, that the human heart is very wicked; they were shocked at themselves; the young often are. Miss Bussey awoke, sat up, evicted the cat, and found her spectacles. "Where are those children?" said she. "Billing and cooing somewhere, I suppose. Bless me, why don't they get tired of it?"

John and Mary had scoffed at the idea of a few weeks' absence having any effect on their feelings except, if indeed it were possible, that of intensifying them. "I really think I ought to go and find them," said Miss Bussey. "Come, Paul!" She took a parasol, for the April sun was bright, and went into the garden. "When she came to the drawing-room window John was away at the end of the walk.