Then he washed his face and hands, and made himself dry and glowing; let down his sleeves, and served them some Yorkshire pie, and bread, and salt, and stirred a little sugar into the wine, and poured it into the saucers.

“Now eat a bit, both of you, before you go.”

Mr. Coventry responded at once to the invitation.

But Grace said, timidly, “Yes, if you will eat with us.”

“No, no,” said he.  “I’ve not been perished with snow, nor rolled in a river.”

Grace hesitated still; but Coventry attacked the pie directly.  It was delicious.  “By Jove, sir,” said he, “you are the prince of blacksmiths.”

“Blacksmiths!” said Grace, coloring high.  But Little only smiled satirically.

Grace, who was really faint with hunger, now ate a little; and then the host made her sip some wine.

The food and wine did Mr. Coventry so much good, that he began to recover his superiority, and expressed his obligations to Henry in a tone which was natural, and not meant to be offensive; but yet, it was so, under all the circumstances:  there was an underlying tone of condescension, it made Grace fear he would offer Henry his purse at leaving.

Henry himself writhed under it; but said nothing.  Grace, however, saw his ire, his mortification, and his jealousy in his face, and that irritated her; but she did not choose to show either of the men how much it angered her.

She was in a most trying situation, and all the woman’s wit and tact were keenly on their guard.

What she did was this; she did not utter one word of remonstrance, but she addressed most of her remarks to Mr. Little; and, though the remarks were nothing in themselves, she contrived to throw profound respect into them.  Indeed, she went beyond respect.  She took the tone of an inferior addressing a superior.

This was nicely calculated to soothe Henry, and also to make Coventry, who was a man of tact, change his own manner.

Nor was it altogether without that effect.  But then it annoyed Coventry, and made him wish to end it.

After a while he said, “My dear Grace, it can’t be far from Raby Hall.  I think you had better let me take you home at once.”

Grace colored high, and bit her lip.

Henry was green with jealous anguish.

“Are you quite recovered yourself?” said Grace, demurely, to Mr. Coventry.

“Quite; thanks to this good fellow’s hospitality.”

“Then would you mind going to Raby, and sending some people for me?  I really feel hardly equal to fresh exertion just yet.”

This proposal brought a flush of pleasure to Henry’s cheek, and mortified Mr. Coventry cruelly in his turn.

“What, go and leave you here?  Surely you can not be serious.”

“Oh, I don’t wish you to leave me.  Only you seemed in a hurry.”

Henry was miserable again.