, a revulsion of feeling, passed
through Catherine's brain; but tears burst forth to relieve her.
Herbert gradually released her from his embrace, and his mother
stepped forward to support her. She gazed steadfastly at her son, and
read in his countenance a presage which she dreaded to interpret.
After a time Hardman withdrew to receive the congratulations of the
guests, amongst the foremost of whom were Lord and Lady Elizabeth
Plympton. He had scarcely closed the door, ere Mrs Hardman placed her
weeping charge gently in a chair, and sat beside Catherine, holding
her hands to her bosom.

At this moment Dodbury entered to share his daughter's joy. But what
a reverse was here! Tears, silence, despondency. He was amazed,
disappointed; and anxiously inquired the cause. 'My son,' said Mrs
Hardman calmly, 'was a little shocked at Catherine's altered
appearance. Doubtless, when his first emotions of surprise are over,
all the happiness we anticipated will be realised.' But she
mistrusted her own thoughts: a dark presentiment had cast its shadow
over her mind.

That night was spent in festivity, in which Catherine was too ill to
join. She retired to her chamber, not to give way to unavailing
grief, but to fortify her mind against the worst. Mrs Hardman's
duties as hostess could not be neglected, and she mixed with her
guests with the dignified affability of former years. In watching her
son's proceedings, she had frequent occasion to bewail a coarseness
and impetuosity of manner, which had doubtless been imbibed from his
recent adventures. His attentions to Lady Elizabeth were as incessant
and warm as on a similar occasion they were cold and distant. When
the guests were retiring, he asked in a careless tone, 'By the by,
mother, what has become of Catherine?'

The answer to this question implied an accusation of cruelty in the
interview with Catherine. This brought a retort from Herbert, that
time was when Mrs Hardman pleaded another's cause. 'True,' replied
the mother, 'but since I have known Catherine's unmatched excellence,
I have grievously repented that I ever contemplated _that_ alliance.
Tell me, Herbert, at once, and honestly, have your feelings changed
towards Catherine?'

'When I left her she was beautiful,' was the reply; 'now she is'----

'You need not finish the sentence,' rejoined Mrs Hardman. 'I see it
all, and will urge you no further: our household's happiness is
wrecked.'

The sorrowing lady sought Ca