"I fear Miss Dernevor is too much fa

tigued to render it advisable for her even to avail herself of such a pleasure," interposed Sir Arthur, rather hastily.

Lady Ida, as if distrusting his motive, looked inquiringly at Geraldine.

"I should like it exceedingly;" then observing Sir Arthur's dissatisfied glance, she added, addressing herself to him: "I feel fully equal to it; you are too careful of me." She had hardly uttered these words when, fearing that she had said too much, that her meaning might possibly be misconstrued, she blushed deeply. Sir Arthur noticed her embarrassment, and there was an expression of exultation in his keen, searching eye as he wished her good-night in the hall.

Scarcely conscious of Lady Ida's presence,

Geraldine sighed deeply as she rested her aching brow on the cushion of her invalid couch, for it appeared to her morbidly-excited, ever-imaginative mind, that she had spoken imprudently, that she had excited false hopes, and not only was her delicacy wounded by the bare idea, but she felt that the consequences of such encouragement, however slight and unintentional, might disastrously affect her destiny. She fancied that she was not totally unacquainted with Sir Arthur Loder's character, she had endeavoured to study it of late, and she deemed him, though cautious and deliberate in forming a decision, dauntless and persevering in the pursuit of any object he had once determined to be worthy of the winning; unappeasable, inexorable in resentment, and withal cold, wily, and observant.

Lady Ida's face assumed a pitying expres

sion as she stood beside the fire, regarding Geraldine with deep interest. She was a

tall, haughty, confident-looking woman, with features which, if separately and critically considered, were decidedly plain, yet when contemplated as a whole, and when the passionless resolve, which they usually indicated, had passed-giving place to the betrayal of some deep, engrossing interest-there was something noble, as well as distinguished in her and mirrored in her eyes appearance; was a melancholy that had never found utterance in words, never subdued her richtoned voice, or whispered itself forth in sighs.

"We are wasting time," she suddenly exclaimed, with her usual abruptness, probably adopted to disguise her real feelings:

"Georgiana will be here directly, I know, and I have so much to say. In the first place, you will never be well here, this horribly cold situation is absolutely destroying you; and there are other influences which will soon be, if they are not already, equally fatal-you must pass the remainder of the winter in the west of England. You look amazed, you have not been accustomed to such plain-speaking, few, indeed, have, but you'll prefer it, after a time, to that sweet, oily insincerity which covers an infinitude of malice and treachery. You will not stay here long, I'm certain of it, unless-'

"Unless what? Lady Ida Illford, pray tell me what

you mean ?"

"Unless you have forgotten one whom I should imagine it must be impossible to forget."

VOL. II.

C

Geraldine turned pale as death, and trembled so violently, that for once, Lady Ida feared she had been too unceremonious.

too;

"Pardon me, I am sorry I have distressed you," she added in a gentler tone, "and yet not sorry, exactly, to perceive but never mind, I want you particularly to accompany me back to Deanbar, it is so much warmer there, close by the sea, and I have been longing to have a friend staying with me, and I'm persuaded we shall suit each other exactly-it will be a real favour to me but stay! no more upon this subject now, I can hear Georgiana Loder's cat-like step in the lobby, which but few can hear, I believe."

A light tap at the door gave confirmation to Lady Ida's last words.

"I do so regret the necessity of interrupt