to her of
the tour she was about to make; of the places she should visit
carefully avoiding all reference to the troubled past.

Three days afterward Lillian started on her journey to the south of
France insisted upon by the doctor. Lord Earle and his wife took
charge of their child; Lord Airlie, declaring he could not yet endure
Lynnton, went with them. Lady Helena and Lionel Dacre remained at
home, in charge of the Hall and the estate.

One thing the latter had resolved upon--that, before the travelers
returned, the lake should be filled up, and green trees planted over
the spot where its waters now glistened in the sun.

No matter how great the expense and trouble, he was resolved that it
should be done.

"Earlescourt would be wretched," he said, "if that fatal lake remained."

The day after the family left Earlescourt, he had workmen engaged. No
one was sorry at his determination. Lady Helena highly approved of it.
The water was drained off, the deep basin filled with earth, and tall
saplings planted where once the water had glistened in the sun. The
boat house was pulled down, and all vestige of the lake was done away
with.

Lionel Dacre came home one evening from the works in very low spirits.
Imbedded in the bottom of the lake they had found a little slipper--the
fellow to it was locked away in Dora's drawer. He saved it to give it
to her when she returned.

Chapter XLIV

Two years passed away, and the travelers thought of returning. Lillian
had recovered health and strength, and, Lord Earle said, longed for
home.

One bright June day they were expected back. Lionel Dacre had driven
to the station. Lady Earle had laid aside her mourning dress, and sat
anxiously awaiting her son. She wished the homecoming were over, and
that they had all settled down to the new life.

Her wish was soon gratified. Once again she gazed upon the face of her
only and beloved son. He was little changed--somewhat sunburned, it
was true; but there was less of the old pride and sternness, a kindly
smile playing round his lips. There was, too, a shade of sadness that
plainly would never leave him; Lord Earle could never forget his lost
child.

Lady Helena looked anxiously at Dora, but there was no cause for fear.
The rosy, dimpled beauty of youth had passed away, but a staid dignity
had taken its place. She looked a graceful amiable woman, with eyes of
wondrous beauty thickly veiled by long lashes, and a wea