Even Harry was checked by his tone, and Laxley sat
silent. The fact that something more than a tailor was speaking seemed to
impress them.

'Since I have to say it, Rose, I hold you in no way bound to me. The
presumption is forced upon me. May you have all the happiness I pray God
to give you.

Gentlemen, good night!'

He bowed and was gone. How keenly she could have retorted on that false
prayer for her happiness! Her limbs were nerveless, her tongue
speechless. He had thrown her off--there was no barrier now between
herself and Ferdinand. Why did Ferdinand speak to her with that air of
gentle authority, bidding her return to the house? She was incapable of
seeing, what the young lord acutely felt, that he had stooped very much
in helping to bring about such a scene. She had no idea of having trifled
with him and her own heart, when she talked feebly of her bondage to
another, as one who would be warmer to him were she free. Swiftly she
compared the two that loved her, and shivered as if she had been tossed
to the embrace of a block of ice.

'You are cold, Rose,' said Laxley, bending to lay his hand on her
shoulder.

'Pray, never touch me,' she answered, and walked on hastily to the house.

Entering it, she remembered that Evan had dwelt there. A sense of
desolation came over her. She turned to Ferdinand remorsefully, saying:
'Dear Ferdinand!' and allowed herself to be touched and taken close to
him. When she reached her bed-room, she had time to reflect that he had
kissed her on the lips, and then she fell down and shed such tears as had
never been drawn from her before.

Next day she rose with an undivided mind. Belonging henceforth to
Ferdinand, it was necessary that she should invest him immediately with
transcendent qualities. The absence of character in him rendered this
easy. What she had done for Evan, she did for him. But now, as if the
Fates had been lying in watch to entrap her and chain her, that they
might have her at their mercy, her dreams of Evan's high nature--hitherto
dreams only--were to be realized. With the purposeless waywardness of her
sex, Pony Wheedle, while dressing her young mistress, and though quite
aware that the parting had been spoken, must needs relate her sister's
story and Evan's share in it. Rose praised him like one forever aloof
from him. Nay, she could secretly congratulate herself on not being
deceived. Upon that came a letter from Caroline:

'Do not misjudge my brothe