the groom?' 'Lord Dudley de Vere's, sir; he's
upstairs.' Already had I turned to go to the drawing-room, when I heard
these words. Suddenly, a faint, half-sick feeling came over me, and I
hastened upstairs to my own room, actually dreading to meet any one as
I went. The blank future before me never seemed so cheerless as at that
moment--separated, without a chance of ever meeting, from the only one I
ever really loved; tortured by my doubts of her feeling for me (for
even now what would I not have given to know she loved me!) my worldly
prospects ruined; without a home; my cousin Julia, the only one who
retained either an interest in me or seemed to care for me, about to
give her hand to the man I hated and despised. 'How soon, and I shall
be alone in the world!' thought I; and already the cold selfishness of
isolation presented itself to my mind.

A gentle tap came to the door. I opened it; it was a message from Lady
Charlotte, requesting to see me in her room. As I passed the door of the
drawing-room I heard Lady Julia and Lord de Vere talking and laughing
together. He was, as usual, 'so amusing,' as my mother's letter called
him--doubtless, relating my hasty and intemperate conduct at the Horse
Guards. For an instant I stopped irresolute as to whether I should not
break suddenly in, and disconcert his lordship's practical coolness by
a disclosure: my better reason prevented me, and I passed on. Lady
Charlotte was seated in a deep arm-chair, inspecting the packing of
various articles of toilette and jewelry which were going on around her,
her cheek somewhat flushed from even this small excitement.

'Ah, dearest John, how d'ye do? Find a chair somewhere, and sit down by
me; you see what confusion we 're in. Dr. Y---- found there was not
an hour to spare; the heart he suspects to be sympathetically
engaged--don't put that Chantilly veil there, I shall never get at
it--and he advises Hastings for the present. He's coming with us,
however--I'll wear that ring, Clemence--and I must insist at his looking
at you. You are very pale to-day, and dark under the eyes; have you any
pain in the side?'

'None whatever, my dear mother; I'm quite well.'

'Pain is, however, a late symptom; my attack began with an--a sense
of--it was rather---- Has Bundal not sent back that bracelet? How very
provoking! Could you call there, dear John?--that tiresome man never
minds the servants--it's just on your way to the club, or the Horse
Guar