er abode with her sisters, and Lionel visited her, just as
other men visit the young ladies they may be going to marry. The
servants at Verner's Pride were informed that a mistress for them was in
contemplation, and preparations for the marriage were begun. Not until
summer would it take place, when twelve months should have elapsed from
the demise of Frederick Massingbird.

Deerham was, of course, free in its comments, differing in no wise on
that score from other places. Lionel Verner was pitied, and Sibylla
abused. The heir of Verner's Pride, with his good looks, his manifold
attractions, his somewhat cold impassibility as to the tempting snares
laid out for him in the way of matrimony, had been a beacon for many a
young lady to steer towards. Had he married Lucy Tempest, had he married
Lady Mary Elmsley, had he married a royal princess, he and she would
both have been equally cavilled at. He, for placing himself beyond the
pale of competition; she, for securing the prize. It always was so, and
it always will be.

His choice of Mrs. Massingbird, however, really did afford some grounds
for grumbling. She was not worthy of Lionel Verner. So Deerham thought;
so Deerham said. He was throwing himself away; he would live to repent
it; she must have been the most crafty of women, so to have secured him!
Free words enough, and harshly spoken; but they were as water by the
side of those uttered by Lady Verner.

In the first bitter hour of disappointment, Lady Verner gave free speech
to harsh things. It was in her love for Lionel that she so grieved.
Setting aside the facts that Sibylla had been the wife of another man,
that she was, in position, beneath Lionel--which facts, however, Lady
Verner could not set aside, for they were ever present to her--her great
objection lay in the conviction that Sibylla would prove entirely
unsuited to him; that it would turn out an unhappy union. Short and
sharp was the storm with Lady Verner; but in a week or two she subsided
into quietness, buried her grief and resentment within her, and made no
further outward demonstration.

"Mother, you will call upon Sibylla?" Lionel said to her one day that he
had gone to Deerham Court. He spoke in a low, deprecating tone, and his
face flushed; he anticipated he knew not what torrent of objection.

Lady Verner met the request differently.

"I suppose it will be expected of me, that I should do so," she replied,
strangely calm. "How I dislike thi