eration.

She started--threw him a doubtful look.

"If you mean that I must take a great deal of trouble, I am afraid I
can't. I am too tired."

And she sank back in her chair.

The sigh that accompanied the words seemed to him involuntary,
unconscious.

"I didn't mean that--altogether," he said, after a moment.

She moved restlessly.

"Then, really, I don't know what you meant. I suppose all friendship
depends on one's self."

She drew her embroidery frame towards her again, and he was left to
wonder at his own audacity. "Do you know," she said, presently, her eyes
apparently busy with her silks, "that I have told Lord Lackington?"

"Yes. Evelyn gave me that news. How has the old man behaved?"

"Oh, very well--most kindly. He has already formed a habit, almost, of
'dropping in' upon me at all hours. I have had to appoint him times and
seasons, or there would be no work done. He sits here and raves about
young Mrs. Delaray--you know he is painting her portrait, for the famous
series?--and draws her profile on the backs of my letters. He recites
his speeches to me; he asks my advice as to his fights with his tenants
or his miners. In short, I'm adopted--I'm almost the real thing."

She smiled, and then again, as she turned over her silks, he heard her
sigh--a long breath of weariness. It was strange and terrible in his
ear--the contrast between this unconscious sound, drawn as it were from
the oppressed heart of pain, and her languidly, smiling words.

"Has he spoken to you of the Moffatts?" he asked her, presently, not
looking at her.

A sharp crimson color rushed over her face.

"Not much. He and Lady Blanche are not great friends. And I have made
him promise to keep my secret from her till I give him leave to
tell it."

"It will have to be known to her some time, will it not?"

"Perhaps," she said, impatiently. "Perhaps, when I can make up my mind."

Then she pushed aside her frame and would talk no more about Lord
Lackington. She gave him, somehow, the impression of a person
suffocating, struggling for breath and air. And yet her hand was icy,
and she presently went to the fire, complaining of the east wind; and as
he put on the coal he saw her shiver.

"Shall I force her to tell me everything?" he thought to himself.

Did she divine the obscure struggle in his mind? At any rate she seemed
anxious to cut short their _tete-a-tete_. She asked him to come and look
at some engravings which the Duc