well convince me that a crimson curtain is
yellow! No; but I will tell you something
out of my wisdom. You find some attraction
in that rich girl besides her riches."

Conway started: "Miss Jessica Bailey
is not turning fortune-teller. Here is my
unworthy palm."

"I know that light way of putting
serious things aside is thought fashionable;
yet, I would be a fortune-teller so far, and
say she cannot understand you. She has
lived all for herself."

"I seem to have known you long; I
know not why. It seems to me as though I
had been seeking some one, and I know not
how, but in this room I seem to have found
at last what I seek. It may be but a tone
of mind—a humour. You will let me ask
you, consult you. You will answer me?"

Now the colour flushed into her face, now
it ebbed away. Then it came again. All
this was the garden of a new and exquisite
Paradise thrown open to her. Now she
looked around, then at him quickly,
smiling, and scarcely knowing what she
did. "Oh, you mean this," she murmured.
"Oh, unjust I was! How unkind of me,
and how good of you."

"But that answer to my question," he
said, reflectively. "Ah, I wonder what
that will be?"

Eagerly she answered: "Ah, you
cannot doubt it."

There was no shyness, no restraint. The
delight and enthusiasm of her hitherto
restrained nature broke through all barriers.

"Yes," he went on, "I may at last find
at St. Arthur's what I have so long sought.
You know what that is; and, yet, how can
I tell? Who knows what issue there may
be to all this? And I may have to raise the
anchor and sail away sullenly and listlessly
as I came. I have met so many checks,
so many chills."

"It shall not come from me—no, never!"
she said, almost aloud, then stopped in the
utmost confusion.

The company were rising to go away.
Doctor Bailey came up to "drag away"
his daughter, and in a very ill humour
indeed. With the rumour of Lord
Formanton coming, it was necessary that he
should, as it were, "prime" Mr. Conway,
prepare the ground, &c.; and here was the
witless girl, interfering with her childish
talk, "taking up" the time and wasting a
golden opportunity. "Come away, come
away, child; don't keep me all night," was
the rude challenge that wakened up the
pair.

As the guests dropped slowly away, the
two girls said "good night." There was
a mingled air of nervous distrust,
uncertainty, and dislike in Miss Panton's look,
as it were, putting the question, "What
have you done or arranged this night?"
a question that was answered by the other's
air of elation and perfect happiness.

When all had departed, there were left
the hostess and her cousin Dudley, she
lying back on the sofa, with a worn and
dissatisfied look. Her spaniel for—such
he was—approached her deferentially.
"You are worried," he said, "about
something. Tell me what you wish done."

"Nothing that you can do. You saw
that low girl's air of triumph as she went
off, all because she took possession of
Conway, my admirer—she and her scheming
father."

"He is not worthy a thought," he said,
in a low voice. "A mere roving Philanderer."

"Who?" she said, starting up: "Conway?
What can you know of him? Oh,
you know well that is false."

"He is not worthy of a single thought
of yours, at all events."

"Why?"

"Because he has let himself be
regularly taken in, as they call it. That
parson's daughter, so simple as she affects to
be——"

"Tell me what you mean," she said,
now standing up, "and don't excite me."

"There is nothing to be excited about,
indeed," he said, hurriedly. "More to
laugh at. Who would care what became
of a man that would choose in that
way!"

"And he has. What, that girl entrap
him, too, and in this house! Oh, insolent!
How intolerable, and how cruel. But one
can laugh at it, as you say."

"It is true. I heard it myself; and he
only waits to see his father. But he
would not hear of such a thing."

"It was hatred and malignancy," went
on the young girl, walking up and down.
"She came to this house on purpose. It
was to insult me. I, that could buy and
sell her a thousand times. But wait—wait
a little, Dudley. She has not stolen her
booty yet."

"No," said Dudley, excitedly. "I can
manage him for you at any moment."

"That is you all over," she said,
scornfully. "You think everything is to be done
by violence, blows, and thrashings. Oh,
but to deal with her. How am I to hinder
her? With all my money, too, and estates,