Of course it was very artful and very wrong, but it is an acknowledged fact that there is a certain magnetism in love; and, to go back to the simile before used, when the loadstone came what could the industrious little needle do?

The next morning, after breakfast, Mrs Lloyd called Polly to her.

"Found out at last," thought poor Polly.

She went shivering up to her very stern-countenanced aunt, with the recollection of twenty sweet but stolen meetings on her conscience.

"Go and put on your white muslin dress and blue ribbons, Polly," said her aunt.

"Are we going out, aunt?" faltered the girl.

"You are, my dear," said Mrs Lloyd; "so put on your hat--the new one, mind."

"Please, aunt, I'd rather not go," faltered the girl.

"Go and dress yourself this minute," exclaimed the housekeeper, firmly: "and look here, if you dare to cry, and make those eyes red, I'll punish you."

Polly shivered, went to her room, and came back, looking as pretty a little rustic rosebud as could be seen for miles around.

"Ah," said Mrs Lloyd, hanging about her with a grim smile on her face, to give a pull at a plait here, a brush at a fold there, and ending by smoothing the girl's soft hair--"if he can resist that, he's no man."

"Please, aunt, what do you mean?" pleaded the girl. "Don't send me out again."

"There are no captains about now, goose, are there?" said the housekeeper, angrily.

"No, aunt, dear," faltered the girl; "but don't send me out. What do you mean?"

"What do I mean?" exclaimed Mrs Lloyd; "as if you didn't know what I mean. To raise the house of Lloyd, child--to make you mistress of Penreife--"

"Oh, aunt!"

"Instead of letting you throw yourself away upon a common servant."

"Aunt--aunt, dear!" cried the girl, piteously.

But the woman stopped her.

"Not another word. Now, look here--do I speak plain?"

"Yes, aunt."

"Hush!--no crying. You are to be Mrs Richard Trevor, with a handsome husband, and plenty of money. If you don't know what's good for you, I do. Now go out for a walk; and when he meets you, if you don't smile on him, and lead him on, I'll--I'll--There, I believe I shall poison you!"

The girl turned, shivering, from the fierce-looking face, as if believing the threat, and hurried out of the house.

"If Humphrey don't take me away I shall go and drown myself," she cried, with a sob. "Oh, it's dreadful! He will hate me for this, and if Mr Richard sees me, what will he think!"

Poor Polly's life had been a very hard one. So accustomed was she to blindly obey, that it never occurred to her that she might take any other route than the one so often indicated by her aunt; and she went as usual--ready to cry, but not daring, and thinking bitterly of her position.

"If I had only been a man," she thought, "I'd run away to sea, and--here he is."

"Ah, little maiden," exclaimed Trevor--for Mrs Lloyd had timed the matter well--"why, how bright and pretty you look!"

"Please, sir, I'm very sorry," faltered the girl.

"Sorry! Why? Have you come out here," he continued, suspiciously, "to meet Humphrey?"

"Please, sir--no, sir," said the girl, looking appealingly in his frank face.

"Having a walk then, eh?"

"Please, sir, aunt sent me," said the girl.

"Polly, my little maid, I believe you are a good girl," said Trevor, his face growing dark--"there, don't cry, I'm not angry with you. Speak out, and trust me. You are not afraid of me?"

"Oh no, sir. Humphrey says you're so good and kind," said the girl.

"Thanks to Humphrey for his good opinion," said Trevor. "But, now, tell me plainly, what does all this mean?"

"Please, sir, I dursen't," sobbed the girl.

"Nonsense, child! Tell me directly."

"Aunt would kill me," sobbed Polly.

"Stuff, child! Now, be a good, sensible little girl, and fancy I'm Humphrey."

"Oh, sir--please, sir, I couldn't do that."

"Come, come, speak out. Now, do you come of your own accord for these walks?"

"No, sir. I--I--Aunt makes me."

"I thought so--I supposed so," said Trevor. "And why do you come?"

"Oh, sir, don't ask me, please--don't ask me," sobbed Polly, now crying out-right.

"Now, look here, my little girl; if you'll speak plainly perhaps I can help you. Once more, why do you come here? There, there, don't cry."

"Oh, please, sir, it's--it's aunt's doing."

"Well, well, child, speak," said Trevor, and he took the girl's hand.

"It makes me cross when you will keep on crying."

"Pray, sir, don't--pray, don't," she sobbed, trying to withdraw her hand. "Oh! what shall I do?"

"Speak put," said Trevor.

"Aunt--aunt thinks, sir--wants, sir--you to marry me, sir; and oh!" she cried, throwing herself on her knees, and holding up her little hands as in prayer, "I do hate you so--I do, indeed!"