uit.

There was a mystery about the Bayswater romance which was not without
its allurement, and a portion of the mystery was connected with
Madalina's mother. Lady Demolines was very rarely seen, and John
Eames could not quite understand what was the manner of life of that
unfortunate lady. Her daughter usually spoke of her with affectionate
regret as being unable to appear on that particular occasion on
account of some passing malady. She was suffering from a nervous
headache, or was afflicted with bronchitis, or had been touched with
rheumatism, so that she was seldom on the scene when Johnny was
passing his time at Porchester Terrace. And yet he heard of her
dining out, and going to plays and operas; and when he did chance
to see her, he found that she was a sprightly old woman enough. I
will not venture to say that he much regretted the absence of Lady
Demolines, or that he was keenly alive to the impropriety of being
left alone with the gentle Madalina; but the customary absence of
the elder lady was an incident in the romance which did not fail to
strike him.

Madalina was alone when he was shown up into the drawing-room on the
evening of which we are speaking.

"Mr. Eames," she said, "will you kindly look at that watch which is
lying on the table." She looked full at him with her great eyes wide
open, and the tone of her voice was intended to show him that she was
aggrieved.

"Yes, I see it," said John, looking down on Miss Demolines' little
gold Geneva watch, with which he had already made sufficient
acquaintance to know that it was worth nothing. "Shall I give it
you?"

"No, Mr. Eames; let it remain there, that it may remind me, if it does
not remind you, by how long a time you have broken your word."

"Upon my word I couldn't help it;--upon my honour I couldn't."

"Upon your honour, Mr. Eames!"

"I was obliged to go and see a friend who has just come to town from
my part of the country."

"That is the friend, I suppose, of whom I have heard from Maria."
It is to be feared that Conway Dalrymple had not been so guarded
as he should have been in some of his conversations with Mrs. Dobbs
Broughton, and that a word or two had escaped from him as to the love
of John Eames for Lily Dale.

"I don't know what you may have heard," said Johnny, "but I was
obliged to see these people before I left town. There is going to be
a marriage and all that sort of thing."

"Who is going to be married?"

"One Capt