he should see that face again!

Beatrice went up to Lady Helena, who smiled without raising her eyes
from her book. Beatrice bent down and touched the kind, stately face
with her lips.

"Good night, grandmamma," she said. "How studious you are!"

"Good night--bless you, my child," returned Lady Helena; and the fair
face turned from her with a smile.

"You have left me until last," said Lord Airlie; "goodnight, my
Beatrice. Never mind papa--he is not looking at us, give me one kiss."

She raised her face to his, and he kissed the proud, sweet lips.

He touched the golden locket.

"You will never part with it," he said; and he smiled as she answered:

"No, never!"

Then she passed out of his sight, and he who would have laid down his
life for her saw her leave him without the faintest suspicion of the
shadow that hung over her.

The smile still lingered on her as she stood in her own room. A few
hours more--one more trial--she said to herself; then she would be
free, and might enjoy her happiness to its full extent. How dearly
Hubert loved her--how unutterably happy she would be when Hugh released
her! And he would--she never doubted it.

"I shall not want you again," she said to her maid. "And do not call
me in the morning. I am tired."

The door of Lillian's room was not closed; she went in. The night lamp
was shaded, and the blinds closely drawn, so that the bright moonlight
could not intrude. She went gently to the side of the bed where her
sister lay. Poor, gentle, loving Lillian! The pale, sad face, with its
wistful wearied expression, was turned to the wall. There were some
traces of tears, and even in sleep deep sighs passed the quivering
lips. Sorrow and woe were impressed on the fair face. Yet, as
Beatrice kissed the clear, calm brow, she would gladly have changed
places with her.

"I will soon make it up to her," she said, gazing long and earnestly on
the sleeping face. "In a few weeks she shall be happier than she has
ever been. I will make Master Lionel go on his knees to her."

She left the room, and Lillian never knew who had bent so lovingly over
her.

Beatrice took from her wardrobe, a thick, warm shawl. She drew it over
her head, and so half hid her face. Then she went noiselessly down the
staircase that led from her suite of rooms to the garden.

How fair and beautiful the night was--not cold, although it was
September, and the moon shining as she had rarely seen it