requent in those days--and the subject dropped for a time. It recurred
frequently, however, and gradually I perceived that whatever subject we
discussed, sooner or later, Mannering's name was bound to crop up. At
first I rather encouraged Evie to talk about him; but, after a while, I
discovered that I was ministering to the feeling which I thought had
been destroyed. I could not help but notice that, soon after Mannering's
return, Evie's high spirits became subdued--her gaiety less spontaneous.
Yet when I asked her whether Mannering's presence produced any effect
upon her, she assured me to the contrary.

Nor did I see how Mannering could possibly exert any influence over her.
I took particular care that he should never have a _tete-a-tete_ with
her. Sometimes she would not even see him for a couple of days at a
time, and when she did, it would be merely for a few minutes, and
nearly always in the presence of Colonel Maitland as well as myself.

It appeared to me, indeed, as if Mannering even took pains to avoid
seeing much of her; and, though I watched him closely, his bearing was
always studiously correct. He was the same _insouciant_ person who had
impressed me so favourably upon my first introduction to him. But
whether it was owing to the distrust which Evie's fear of him had
impressed upon me, or because I could really see things which had before
been hidden from my sight, I certainly did observe about him certain
singularities which I had never before remarked. I saw, for instance,
that, in speaking of his face as a handsome mask, I had been nearer the
truth than I had known. On more than one occasion, while his lips were
parted in a genial smile, I observed in his eyes an expression strangely
at variance therewith. It was the expression of a cat when it crouches
to spring upon a mouse. I have seen that look bent upon my betrothed. I
have caught it directed at myself. There was a restlessness, too, which
gave the lie to his nonchalant manner. I could see that he forced
himself to remain still. His fingers were always busy with something or
other.

These were trifles, and equally trivial seemed the sarcasms which he
directed at me now and again. These I attributed to the ebullitions of
temper, natural enough in a defeated suitor. In my heart I pitied him,
for I fancied I knew what a struggle it must have cost him to stand
aside and watch a successful rival's happiness.

As the days passed, a certain constraint