ing over the scene with the young
ladies, before starting up, as if wondering at his own emotion, he
declared that he must go and see what they would do next.

Presently afterwards, Fitzjocelyn came down stairs. His aunt was
judiciously lying down in her own apartment to recruit her nerves after
her agitation, and had called Virginia to read to her, and Isabel was
writing her journal, alone, in the sitting-room. Lady Conway would
have been gratified at her eager reception of him, but, as he seemed
very languid, and indisposed for conversation, she continued her
occupation, while he rested in an arm-chair.

Presently he said, 'Is it possible that you could have left that
bracelet at Miss Longman's?'

'Pray do not think about it,' exclaimed Isabel; 'I am ashamed of my
childishness! Perhaps, but for that delay, you would not have been
hurt,' and her eyes filled with tears, as her fingers encircled the
place where the bracelet should have been.

'Perhaps, but for that delay, we might both have been shot,' said
Louis. 'No, indeed; I could not wonder at your prizing it so much.'

'I little thought that would be the end of it,' said Isabel. 'I am
glad you know its history, so that I may have some excuse;' and she
tried to smile, but she blushed deeply as she dried her eyes.

'Excuse? more than excuse!' said Louis, remembering his fears that it
would be thrown away upon her. 'I know--'

'He has told you!' cried Isabel, starting with bashful eagerness.

'He has told me what I understand now,' said Louis, coming near in a
glow of grateful delight. 'Oh, I am so glad you appreciate him. Thank
you.'

'You are inferring too much,' said Isabel, turning away in confusion.

'Don't you mean it!' exclaimed Louis. 'I thought--'

'We must not mistake each other,' said Isabel, recovering her
self-possession. 'Nothing amounting to what you mean ever passed,
except a few words the last evening, and I may have dwelt on them more
than I ought,' faltered she, with averted head.

'Not more than he has done, I feel certain,' said Louis; 'I see it all!
Dear old Jem! There's no such fellow in existence.' But here
perceiving that he was going too far, he added, almost timidly, 'I beg
your pardon.'

'You have no occasion,' she said, smiling in the midst of her blushes.
'I feared I had said what I ought not. I little expected such kind
sympathy.'

She hastily left him, and Lady Conway soon after found him so full of
bright,