d her
so entirely! Tears! tears shed for him! Oh! what, what is grief when
a lovely woman remains to weep over our misfortunes! Could he be
miserable, could his career indeed be unfortunate, when this was
reserved for him? He was on the point of pledging his affection, but to
leave her under such circumstances was impossible: to neglect Mr. Dacre
was equally so. He determined to arrange his affairs with all possible
promptitude, and then to hasten up, and entreat her to share his
diminished fortunes. But he would not go without whispering hope,
without leaving some soft thought to lighten her lonely hours. He caught
her in his arms; he covered her sweet small mouth with kisses, and
whispered, in the midst of their pure embrace,

'Dearest Carry! I shall soon return, and we will yet be happy.'

BOOK V.

CHAPTER I.

_Once More at Dacre_

MISS DACRE, although she was prepared to greet the Duke of St. James
with cordiality, did not anticipate with equal pleasure the arrival
of the page and the jaeger. Infinite had been the disturbances they had
occasioned during their first visit, and endless the complaints of the
steward and the housekeeper. The men-servants were initiated in
the mysteries of dominoes, and the maid-servants in the tactics of
flirtation. Karlstein was the hero of the under-butlers, and even the
trusty guardian of the cellar himself was too often on the point of
obtaining the German's opinion of his master's German wines. Gaming, and
drunkenness, and love, the most productive of all the teeming causes
of human sorrow, had in a week sadly disordered the well-regulated
household of Castle Dacre, and nothing but the impetuosity of our hero
would have saved his host's establishment from utter perdition. Miss
Dacre was, therefore, not less pleased than surprised when the britzska
of the Duke of St. James discharged on a fine afternoon, its noble
master, attended only by the faithful Luigi, at the terrace of the
Castle.

A few country cousins, fresh from Cumberland, who knew nothing of the
Duke of St. James except from a stray number of 'The Universe,' which
occasionally stole down to corrupt the pure waters of their lakes, were
the only guests. Mr. Dacre grasped our hero's hand with a warmth and
expression which were unusual with him, but which conveyed, better than
words, the depth of his friendship; and his daughter, who looked more
beautiful than ever, advanced with a beaming face and j