THE DEAR GIRL.

By the Author OF "Bella Donna," "Never Forgotten," &c.

CHAPTER XXII.  A CRUEL REVELATION.

Much interest was beginning to attend the
proceedings of Vivian and Lucy, as it was now
known to the tattle-mongers that the colonel
could only stay a short time longer, and had
received imperative orders to join his regiment
at Gibralter within a month. That news had
indeed just arrived. Mr. West heard it from
Captain Filby, to whom he had latterly been
gracious, finding him useful.

"He'll leave her there, as sure as my name
is Filby. And serve 'em right. It's the usual
thing. I know, every town we left, we marched
out leaving a batch of deserted virgins crying,
and with hearts broken. Any officer that
marries is a born donkey. If I had a regiment, and
any of my fellows was to make a fool of himself
in that way, I'd make his life a burden to him,
I would. As for that Vivian, he means nothing
—nothing of business, sir, I can tell you. Not
he. But he's not in bad hands, and that Dacres
won't let him go without something down."

It was noticed, too, with infinite satisfaction
by the gossip-mongers, that Lucy was growing
low-spirited. Here was something dramatic
to watch. It assumed, as of course, that the
colonel was " too knowing " to let himself be
"hooked," and was making preparations to
retire cleverly and decently from his position.
All their sympathies were naturally with him,
and it was hoped that he would " escape."
They relished specially Miss Lulu's position,
who had "jilted" the other, and would now
be fairly jilted in her turn. The colony, therefore,
in possession of this prospect, was very
happy and pleasant, and Captain Filby said
again, it was as good as Drury Lane.

Alas! there was one to whom all this sport
was as death; who was looking on with strained
eyes; on whose heart this wild passion and
expectancy was preying; who scarcely slept at
nights, and who really seemed hurrying towards
that fate which he had forecasted for himself.
People would say, and will say now, " Foolish,
ridiculous man! he should have more sense;"
with the awkward cry, " Old enough to be her
father— old enough to know better." But there
is nothing so tyrannous or so overpowering as
the dominion of one passionate idea on some
minds; on the more tender and delicate it preys
like a vampire. His old legal friends, sensible
"long-headed" men, might have reasoned with
him in vain. Under similar circumstances, they
would have fallen into the same folly.

The Guernsey Beaufort "affaire" still held
people's minds. They were king and queen of
the place; and as the season was shortly to
begin, it was known that then they would glitter
with a double effulgence. They were holding
themselves in a sort of preserve, and yet still
dispensed blessings. The little dinners went on,
and of this bounty Mr. Blacker was, as it were,
chief almoner. But Mr. Filby, whom he had
injudiciously "pooh-poohed" aside, as a man
"scarcely the sort of thing, you know," was
discontented, and had now become a dangerous
enemy. As we have seen, he was unscrupulous,
said " whatever came into his head," and had a
fine stock of ill nature, which he never allowed
to get low. It was a stupid blunder to have
alienated Captain Filby.

His voice was heard everywhere, and other
voices began presently to repeat what his had
pronounced so authoritatively. " Giving a ball,
are they? All right ! Flowers and lights from
Paris; that is, of course, from poor Fazy there
at the corner. Well, that's his business."

"Why," added the captain, dropping his voice
a little, " do you know what I have made it my
business to find out within the last few days?
Not a tradesman in the place has seen his money
yet! Wait until these donkeys put their long
ears together and find that out, for they think
now that others have been paid, and their turn
will come presently. Not a sou, sir. I went
to Sody. Will you believe it? They owe the
man over fifteen hundred francs. They gave
him a hundred the first month, as a sop—as a
blind. That poor fool of an upholsterer-- who,
I believe, has half broke himself, getting those
mirrors and carpets for 'em from Paris-- he has
had nothing yet; but on the 25th of next
month, when munseer's agent comes over
laden with money, got on the rent-day, he is to
be paid in full, and get an order to refurnish
Beaufort Manor. Ha, ha! I give you my
honour, the poor idiot told me all this."

"But they are rich," says one of the
bystanders; " there is no question about it."

"Is there no question about my grandmother?"