, Le Grand, I shall write to you in cipher, of which I
shall leave you the key. If I see a prospect of fortune worthy of
Frances, I shall ask her to wait a time for me, but if my ill fortune
pursues me, I shall never again be heard from by any one in England. Are
you satisfied with the conditions?"

I gave him my hand for answer, and told him I would bring Frances to him
early the following morning.

I hastened back to Whitehall, and coming upon Frances unengaged, asked
her to go to her parlor with me. When she had closed the door, she turned
to me, asking:--

"What is it, Baron Ned? Tell me quickly. I know there is something wrong
with George."

"Will you go with me early to-morrow morning to see Betty--very early?"
I asked.

Her eyes opened in wonder, and she answered, somewhat amused: "You have
been acting as my guardian for a long time, cousin Ned, and now I think I
owe it to you to return the favor. You should not see so much of Betty. I
know you mean no wrong to her, but you will cause her great suffering if
you continue to see her, for you must know that already the girl is
almost mad with love of you. Yet you cannot marry her."

"Nor can you marry some one else," I retorted, almost angrily, for a man
dislikes to be prodded by a painful truth.

"Ah, well, I suppose we are a pair of fools," she said.

"You're right, Frances," I answered philosophically, "and the only
consolation we can find lies in the fact that we know it."

"Most fools lack that flattering unction," returned Frances, musingly.

"Perhaps you will take more interest in this matter when I tell you
that it is not Betty I propose to see," I answered. "I am deliberately
offering to take you to see some one else who is about to leave England."

She stood on tiptoe and kissed my lips for answer, then sank into a
chair, covering her face with her hands to hide the sudden tears.

I went to the window and waited till she was calm. I longed to comfort
her by telling of the faint prospect of good fortune that lay in Le
Grand's letter, but I hesitated raising a hope which might never be
realized.

At the end of five minutes I went to her and said: "Let me ask the
duchess to excuse you for to-night, and in the morning I'll meet you on
Bowling Green stairs, at, say, seven o'clock."

"I'll be there," she answered, smiling through her tears.

The next morning we took boat, and the tide running out, made good speed
to the Bridge, hastened to the