Jovial led the way to an immense barn that had been cleaned out and decorated for the occasion.  The vast room was adorned with festoons of evergreens and paper flowers.  At the upper end was hung the arms of the Brudenells.  Benches were placed along the walls for the accommodation of those who might wish to sit.  The floor was chalked for the dancers.

“Dere, young women, dere you is,” said Jovial loftily, as he introduced the sisters into this room, and retired.

There were some thirty-five or forty persons present, including men, women, and children, but no one that was known to the sisters.  They therefore took seats in a retired corner, from which they watched the company.

“How many people there are!  Where could they all have come from?” inquired Nora.

“I do not know.  From a distance, I suppose.  People will come a long way to a feast like this.  And you know that not only were the tenants and laborers invited, but they were asked to bring all their friends and relations as well!” said Hannah.

“And they seemed to have improved the opportunity,” added Nora.

“Hush, my dear; I do believe here come Mr. Brudenell and the ladies,” said Hannah.

And even as she spoke the great doors of the barn were thrown open, and the young landlord and his family entered.

First came Mr. Brudenell, a young gentleman of medium height, and elegantly rather than strongly built; his features were regular and delicate; his complexion fair and clear; his hair of a pale, soft, golden tint; and in contrast to all this, his eyes were of a deep, dark, burning brown, full of fire, passion, and fascination.  There was no doubt about it—­he was beautiful!  I know that is a strange term to apply to a man, but it is the only true and comprehensive one to characterize the personal appearance of Herman Brudenell.  He was attired in a neat black dress suit, without ornaments of any kind; without even a breastpin or a watch chain.

Upon his arm leaned his mother, a tall, fair woman with light hair, light blue eyes, high aquiline features, and a haughty air.  She wore a rich gray moire antique, and a fine lace cap.

Behind them came the two young lady sisters, so like their mother that no one could have mistaken them.  They wore white muslin dresses, sashes of blue ribbon, and wreaths of blue harebells.  They advanced with smiles intended to be gracious, but which were only condescending.

The eyes of all the people in the barn were fixed upon this party, except those of Nora Worth, which were riveted upon the young heir.

And this was destiny!

There was nothing unmaidenly in her regard.  She looked upon him as a peasant girl might look upon a passing prince—­as something grand, glorious, sunlike, and immeasurably above her sphere; but not as a human being, not as a young man precisely like other young men.

While thus, with fresh lips glowingly apart, and blushing cheeks, and eyes full of innocent admiration, she gazed upon him, he suddenly turned around, and their eyes met full.  He smiled sweetly, bowed lowly, and turned slowly away.  And she, with childlike delight, seized her sister’s arm and exclaimed: