What were Mary’s fortunes immediately after his departure must be shortly told, and then we will again join some of our Greshamsbury friends at a period about a month before Frank’s return.

When Sir Louis saw Frank Gresham standing by Mary’s donkey, with his arms round Mary’s knees, he began to fear that there must be something in it.  He had intended that very day to throw himself at Mary’s feet, and now it appeared to his inexperienced eyes as though somebody else had been at the same work before him.  This not unnaturally made him cross; so, after having sullenly wished his visitor good-bye, he betook himself to his room, and there drank curacoa alone, instead of coming down to dinner.

This he did for two or three days, and then, taking heart of grace, he remembered that, after all, he had many advantages over young Gresham.  In the first place, he was a baronet, and could make his wife a ‘lady’.  In the next place, Frank’s father was alive and like to live, whereas his own was dead.  He possessed Boxall Hill in his own right, but his rival had neither house nor land of his own.  After all, might it not be possible for him also to put his arm round Mary’s knees;—­her knees, or her waist, or, perhaps, even her neck?  Faint heart never won fair lady.  At any rate, he would try.

And he did try.  With what result, as regards Mary, need hardly be told.  He certainly did not get nearly so far as putting his hand even upon her knee before he was made to understand that it ‘was no go’, as he graphically described it to his mother.  He tried once and again.  On the first time Mary was very civil, though very determined.  On the second, she was more determined, though less civil; and then she told him, that if he pressed her further he would drive her from her mother’s house.  There was something then about Mary’s eye, a fixed composure round her mouth, and an authority in her face, which went far to quell him; and he did not press her again.

He immediately left Boxall Hill, and, returning to London, had more violent recourse to the curacoa.  It was not long before the doctor heard of him, and was obliged to follow him, and then again occurred those frightful scenes in which the poor wretch had to expiate, either in terrible delirium or more terrible prostration of spirits, the vile sin which his father had so early taught him.

Then Mary returned to her uncle’s home.  Frank was gone, and she therefore could resume her place at Greshamsbury.  Yes, she came back to Greshamsbury; but Greshamsbury was by no means the same place that it was formerly.  Almost all intercourse was now over between the doctor and the Greshamsbury people.  He rarely ever saw the squire, and then only on business.  Not that the squire had purposely quarrelled with him; but Dr Thorne himself had chosen that it should be so, since Frank had openly proposed to his niece.  Frank was now gone, and Lady Arabella was in arms against him.  It should not be said that he kept up any intimacy for the sake of aiding the lovers in their love.  No one should rightfully accuse him of inveigling the heir to marry his niece.