you will only be reasonable--"

"Reasonable! Reasonable! Henry, do you know these lines?

'Go to the raging sea and say be still,
Bid the wild lawless winds obey your will,
Preach to the storm, and reason with despair,
But tell not Misery's child--'"

I could not finish the line; an overpowering sob shook my
whole frame, and I threw myself back in the carriage, weeping
passionately.

"Ellen, what are you doing? put down your veil and sit up.
Here is the very man we have been speaking of."

I gave a violent start, but did as he bid me, and looked up in
time to see Mr. Escourt riding with two other men, and taking
his hat off as he passed me with the lowest possible bow. I
returned it haughtily, and then turning to Henry, I said, with
the utmost bitterness, "This is the consequence of your
selfish determination to force your society upon me at all
times and in all places. Edward is on the point of suspecting
me. I have no doubt that, before to-morrow, it will be all
over London that I was met driving alone with you; and,
drowned in tears! This is _your_ doing, _your_ work, and you
expect me not to hate you, not to curse the day on which--No,
I do not mean all I am saying; I do not hate you, Henry; but
it is hard to suffer as I do, and not to grow wicked. Stop the
carriage, I implore you, and walk home."

"My dearest Ellen, this will only make matters worse. It will
seem as if you were ashamed of being seen alone with me. Now,
considering the closeness of our connection and our old
friendship, any appearance of that sort would have a much
worse effect than anything else. Drive straight to your own
house, and I will walk home from there. It is much better that
Edward himself should see how little you dread observation."

I gave way in silence; but as we drew near home I looked
anxiously at the windows, for I felt that after Edward's
remarks on the preceding evening, to drive in that way with
Henry, was very like braving him. I felt relieved at not
seeing him, and as I walked through the hall I inquired if he
was at home.

"No, Ma'am, Mr. Middleton called an hour ago to say that two
gentlemen, beside Mr. Lovell, would dine here to-day; that I
was to tell you so when you came home."

I went up to the drawing-room and sat down at the piano-forte,
to try to get over the time till Edward's return as well as I
could. I was bent upon mentioning to him the drive I had taken
with Henry, as I quite agreed