s
and darts and dying for her, such as somebody else might have given
utterance to, but earnest-hearted words of deep tenderness, calculated
to win upon the mind's good sense, as well as upon the ear and heart;
and it may be that, had her imagination not been filled up with that
"somebody else," she would have said "Yes," there and then.

They were suddenly interrupted. Lady Mount Severn entered, and took
in the scene at a glance; Mr. Carlyle's bent attitude of devotion,
his imprisonment of the hands, and Isabel's perplexed and blushing
countenance. She threw up her head and her little inquisitive nose, and
stopped short on the carpet; her freezing looks demanded an explanation,
as plainly as looks can do it. Mr. Carlyle turned to her, and by way of
sparing Isabel, proceeded to introduce himself. Isabel had just presence
of mind left to name her: "Lady Mount Severn."

"I am sorry that Lord Mount Severn should be absent, to whom I have the
honor of being known," he said. "I am Mr. Carlyle."

"I have heard of you," replied her ladyship, scanning his good looks,
and feeling cross that his homage should be given where she saw it was
given, "but I had _not_ heard that you and Lady Isabel Vane were on the
extraordinary terms of intimacy that--that----"

"Madam," he interrupted as he handed a chair to her ladyship and took
another himself, "we have never yet been on terms of extraordinary
intimacy. I was begging the Lady Isabel to grant that we may be; I was
asking her to become my wife."

The avowal was as a shower of incense to the countess, and her ill
humor melted into sunshine. It was a solution to her great difficulty,
a loophole by which she might get rid of her _bete noire_, the hated
Isabel. A flush of gratification lighted her face, and she became full
of graciousness to Mr. Carlyle.

"How very grateful Isabel must feel to you," quoth she. "I speak openly,
Mr. Carlyle, because I know that you were cognizant of the unprotected
state in which she was left by the earl's improvidence, putting marriage
for her, at any rate, a high marriage, nearly out of the question. East
Lynne is a beautiful place, I have heard."

"For its size; it is not large," replied Mr. Carlyle, as he rose for
Isabel had also risen and was coming forward.

"And pray what is Lady Isabel's answer?" quickly asked the countess,
turning to her.

Not to her did Isabel condescend to give an answer, but she approached
Mr. Carlyle, and spoke in a