iting for his
partner. With a word of apology to the young man, Mrs. Crayford drew
Clara aside for a moment, and spoke to her in a whisper.

"One word, my dear, before you return to the ball-room. It may sound
conceited, after the little you have told me; but I think I understand
your position _now_, better than you do yourself. Do you want to hear my
opinion?"

"I am longing to hear it, Lucy! I want your opinion; I want your
advice."

"You shall have both in the plainest and fewest words. First, my
opinion: You have no choice but to come to an explanation with Mr.
Wardour as soon as he returns. Second, my advice: If you wish to make
the explanation easy to both sides, take care that you make it in the
character of a free woman."

She laid a strong emphasis on the last three words, and looked pointedly
at Francis Aldersley as she pronounced them. "I won't keep you from your
partner any longer, Clara," she resumed, and led the way back to the
ball-room.

Chapter 3.

The burden on Clara's mind weighs on it more heavily than ever, after
what Mrs. Crayford has said to her. She is too unhappy to feel the
inspiriting influence of the dance. After a turn round the room, she
complains of fatigue. Mr. Francis Aldersley looks at the conservatory
(still as invitingly cool and empty as ever); leads her back to it;
and places her on a seat among the shrubs. She tries--very feebly--to
dismiss him.

"Don't let me keep you from dancing, Mr. Aldersley."

He seats himself by her side, and feasts his eyes on the lovely downcast
face that dares not turn toward him. He whispers to her:

"Call me Frank."

She longs to call him Frank--she loves him with all her heart. But Mrs.
Crayford's warning words are still in her mind. She never opens her
lips. Her lover moves a little closer, and asks another favor. Men are
all alike on these occasions. Silence invariably encourages them to try
again.

"Clara! have you forgotten what I said at the concert yesterday? May I
say it again?"

"No!"

"We sail to-morrow for the Arctic seas. I may not return for years.
Don't send me away without hope! Think of the long, lonely time in the
dark North! Make it a happy time for _me_."

Though he speaks with the fervor of a man, he is little more than a lad:
he is only twenty years old, and he is going to risk his young life on
the frozen deep! Clara pities him as she never pitied any human creature
before. He gently takes her hand. She t