morse when Colonel Halkett, putting his head
into the room to say good-bye to Beauchamp and place the Esperanza at his
disposal for a Winter cruise, chanced to mention in two or three half
words the purpose of the earl's visit, and what had occurred. He took it
for known already.

To Miss Denham he remarked: 'Lord Romfrey is very much concerned about
your health; he fears you have overdone it in nursing Captain Beauchamp!

'I must be off after him,' said Beauchamp, and began trembling so that he
could not stir.

The colonel knew the pain and shame of that condition of weakness to a
man who has been strong and swift, and said: 'Seven-league boots are not
to be caught. You'll see him soon. Why, I thought some letter of yours
had fetched him here! I gave you all the credit of it.'

'No, he deserves it all himself--all,' said Beauchamp and with a dubious
eye on Jenny Denham: 'You see, we were unfair.'

The 'we' meant 'you' to her sensitiveness; and probably he did mean it
for 'you': for as he would have felt, so he supposed that his uncle must
have felt, Jenny's coldness was much the crueller. Her features, which in
animation were summer light playing upon smooth water, could be
exceedingly cold in repose: the icier to those who knew her, because they
never expressed disdain. No expression of the baser sort belonged to
them. Beauchamp was intimate with these delicately-cut features; he would
have shuddered had they chilled on him. He had fallen in love with his
uncle; he fancied she ought to have done so too; and from his excess of
sympathy he found her deficient in it.

He sat himself down to write a hearty letter to his 'dear old uncle
Everard.'

Jenny left him, to go to her chamber and cry.

CHAPTER LIV

THE FRUITS OF THE APOLOGY

This clear heart had cause for tears. Her just indignation with Lord
Romfrey had sustained her artificially hitherto now that it was erased,
she sank down to weep. Her sentiments toward Lydiard had been very like
Cecilia Halkett's in favour of Mr. Austin; with something more to warm
them on the part of the gentleman. He first had led her mind in the
direction of balanced thought, when, despite her affection for Dr.
Shrapnel, her timorous maiden wits, unable to contend with the copious
exclamatory old politician, opposed him silently. Lydiard had helped her
tongue to speak, as well as her mind to rational views; and there had
been a bond of union in common for them in his admir