ow. It is Robert Orange."

Sara stared for a moment. Then the string of gold beads which she wore
round her throat suddenly broke, and the shining ornaments fell all
about her to the floor.

"Dear me!" said Sara, kneeling down with a ghastly laugh. Pensee knelt
too, and they gathered the scattered necklace between them. "Dear me! I
was never more surprised--never; and yet I cannot think why I am
surprised. He is very handsome. Any woman would like him."

"I wonder," said Pensee, full of thoughts.

Sara proceeded to count her beads, lest one should be missing. But they
were all there, and she tied them up in her handkerchief.

"Pensee," she said, presently. "I will tell his name after all, because
you have been so frank with me. The one I ... love is Beauclerk
Reckage." As she uttered this lie, she cast down her eyes and blushed to
the very heart.

"Beauclerk!" exclaimed Pensee, in amazement. "Then there _is_ some hope
after all! There is, there must be! Beauclerk! He is engaged to Agnes
Carillon, of course. But all the same...."

The conversation flagged. Lord Garrow, who had heard a distant murmuring
but not their words, now, as their animation failed, came in.

"My little girl," said he, "has been moping. I am very glad that you
called ... very glad indeed. And Sara, my darling...."

"Yes, papa."

"Have you asked Pensee the name of that extremely pretty song she sang
for us when we all dined together at Lord Wight's? You remember the
evening?"

But Sara, with a wail, fled away. Pensee caught a glimpse of her white,
agonised countenance as she rushed past them, moaning, to her own room.

"This is dreadful," said Lord Garrow, horribly annoyed--"dreadful!"

"It is indeed," replied Lady Fitz Rewes gravely. "I suppose...."

She wanted to say that she hoped the Marshire-de Treverell alliance was
still undecided. But something in his lordship's air--a hardness she had
never thought to see in his regard--forbade any reference to the
subject. He conducted her to her carriage, wished her "Goodbye" in his
Court manner, and led her to understand, by an unmistakable glance, that
a certain marriage which had been arranged would, inasmuch as it was
entirely agreeable to the will of Providence, take place.

CHAPTER III

Lord Reckage, in the meantime, had not been able to draw rein until he
reached Grafton Street, where the hunter, of its own will, stopped short
at a door, half glass and half mahogany, befor