r; but
chance favoured him. Even old Mrs. Hungerford this night broke through
her rule of not going to more than one house, and she drove off to Lady
de Courcy's.

They were alone. It is sometimes an awful thing to be alone with those
we love.

'Sing that again!' asked the Duke, imploringly. 'It is my favourite air;
it always reminds me of Dacre.'

She sang, she ceased; she sang with beauty, and she ceased with grace;
but all unnoticed by the tumultuous soul of her adoring guest. His
thoughts were intent upon a greater object. The opportunity was sweet;
and yet those boisterous wassailers, they might spoil all.

'Do you know that this is the first time that I have seen your rooms lit
up?' said the Duke.

'Is it possible! I hope they gain the approbation of so distinguished a
judge.'

'I admire them exceedingly. By-the-bye, I see a new cabinet in the
next room. Swaby told me, the other day, that you were one of his
lady-patronesses. I wish you would show it me. I am very curious in
cabinets.'

She rose, and they advanced to the end of another and a longer room.

'This is a beautiful saloon,' said the Duke. 'How long is it?'

'I really do not know; but I think between forty and fifty feet.'

'Oh! you must be mistaken. Forty or fifty feet! I am an excellent
judge of distances. I will try. Forty or fifty feet! Ah! the next room
included. Let us walk to the end of the next room. Each of my paces
shall be one foot and a half.'

They had now arrived at the end of the third room.

'Let me see,' resumed the Duke; 'you have a small room to the right. Oh!
did I not hear that you had made a conservatory? I see, I see it;
lit up, too! Let us go in. I want to gain some hints about London
conservatories.'

It was not exactly a conservatory; but a balcony of large dimensions
had been fitted up on each side with coloured glass, and was open to the
gardens. It was a rich night of fragrant June. The moon and stars
were as bright as if they had shone over the terrace of Dacre, and the
perfume of the flowers reminded him of his favourite orange-trees. The
mild, cool scene was such a contrast to the hot and noisy chamber they
had recently quitted, that for a moment they were silent.

'You are not afraid of this delicious air?' asked his Grace.

'Midsummer air,' said Miss Dacre, 'must surely be harmless.'

Again there was silence; and Miss Dacre, after having plucked a flower
and tended a plant, seemed to express an inten