just their sort, but he isn't mine,"--and she peeped slily from
under her eyelashes.

"You mischievous puss!" But as she patted the sofa, and he finally sat
down, General Boldero felt in a curious way young, and attracted against
his will.

Could it really be his own daughter who was thus exerting herself for
his entertainment, and his alone? Hitherto, he had never given Leo a
thought in the way of desiring her company, and certainly would not have
done so now, if let alone,--but since he was not let alone, but was
plied with a perfect cross-fire of questions, comments, and what not,
while all the time the speaker gave him the whole of her attention, and
the full play of her saucy eyes, he was bound to own himself amused.

He was so well amused that he never once glanced towards the rest of the
party, nor would Leo do so, lest he should follow suit.

She was, however, nimble-witted, and could contrive for her own
purposes. She could stoop to pick up a fallen glove: she could search
the carpet for something else which was not there. By these means she
learnt that there was no longer a quartet assembled in a central part of
the room; that Maud and Sybil had resumed occupations in distant
corners, leaving the visitor to Sue; and that Sue--she longed to look at
Sue, but refrained.

Sue sat on in her large armchair, with her back to the light. Her
companion's hand rested on the back of the chair.

Seen from Leo's standpoint, the bent shoulders and thin neck were
aggressively apparent against the light--for a pale winter sunset lit up
the sky without, and the two figures were silhouetted sharply--but Sue?
what did Sue see?

Apparently what satisfied her, what transformed the world around her.

For Leo, rising at last, as all rose, and drawing near with a curiosity
which had also in it a great and passionate envy, beheld upon her
sister's face the look which she sought, the look which she was never to
forget. Again her heart cried out, and would not be silenced: "I have
lost something that I never had!"

CHAPTER VIII.

A CAT AND MOUSE GAME.

We will now pass over a period of deadly dulness and unvarying monotony
at Boldero Abbey.

Such periods were normal there to all but Leonore. Her sisters frittered
away the hours in small pursuits which led to nothing, (if we except a
certain kindly care of the poor on the estate, whose interests Sue at
least found of importance)--otherwise they existed, and that is