was silent. The next instant she drew
hurriedly back.

"I didn't see," she murmured; "it's so confusing."

A tall man had risen from the end of the Government bench, and was
giving an answer connected with the Home Secretary's department. For the
first time since their parting in the Mellor drawing-room Marcella saw
Aldous Raeburn.

She fell very silent, and leant back in her chair. Yet Wharton's quick
glance perceived that she both looked and listened intently, so long as
the somewhat high-pitched voice was speaking.

"He does those things very well," he said carelessly, judging it best to
take the bull by the horns. "Never a word too much--they don't get any
change out of him. Do you see that old fellow in the white beard under
the gallery? He is one of the chartered bores. When he gets up to-night
the House will dine. I shall come up and look for you, and hand you over
to a friend if I may--a Staffordshire member, who has his wife
here--Mrs. Lane. I have engaged a table, and I can start with you.
Unfortunately I mustn't be long out of the House, as it's my motion;
but they will look after you."

The girls glanced a little shyly at each other. Nothing had been said
about dining; but Wharton took it for granted; and they yielded. It was
Marcella's "day off," and she was a free woman.

"Good-bye, then," he said, getting up. "I shall be on in about twenty
minutes. Wish me well through!"

Marcella looked round and smiled. But her vivacity had been quenched for
the moment; and Wharton departed not quite so well heartened for the
fray as he could have wished to be. It was hard luck that the Raeburn
ghost should walk this particular evening.

Marcella bent forward again when he had gone, and remained for long
silent, looking down into the rapidly filling House. Aldous Raeburn was
lying back on the Treasury bench, his face upturned. She knew very well
that it was impossible he should see her; yet every now and then she
shrank a little away as though he must. The face looked to her older and
singularly blanched; but she supposed that must be the effect of the
light; for she noticed the same pallor in many others.

"_All that my life can do to pour good measure_--_down_--_running
over_--_into yours, I vowed you then!_"

The words stole into her memory, throbbing there like points of pain.
Was it indeed this man under her eyes--so listless, so unconscious--who
had said them to her with a passion of devotion it shamed