perplexing conjectures concerning the significance of her parting
warning.

It was not yet eight o'clock when she descended to the
breakfast-room, but Mr. Palma was already there, and stood at the
window, with an open newspaper which he appeared to scan very
intently.

In answer to her subdued "Good-morning," he merely bowed, without
turning his head, and she rang the bell and took her place at the
table.

While she scalded and wiped the cups (one of his requirements), he
walked to the hearth, glanced at his watch, and said:

"Let me have my coffee at once. I have an early engagement. As it
threatens snow, you must keep indoors today."

"I am obliged to attend the Cantata rehearsal at Mrs. Brompton's."

"Then I will order the carriage to be placed at your disposal. What
hour?"

"One o'clock."

Upon her plate lay a sealed envelope, and as she put it in her
pocket, his keen eyes searched her countenance.

"Did you sleep well? I should judge you had not closed your eyes."

"I wrote a long letter to mother, and afterward I could not sleep."

"You look as if you had grown five years older, since you gave me my
coffee yesterday. When the rehearsal ends, I wish you to come
directly home and go to sleep; for there will be company here to-day,
and it might be rather unflattering to me as guardian, to present my
ward to strangers, and imagine their comments on your weary hollow
eyes and face as blanched, as 'pale as Seneca's Paulina.'"

CHAPTER XXIII.

Notwithstanding the snow which fell steadily at one o'clock, all who
were to take part in the "Cantata," assembled punctually at Mrs.
Brompton's, and as Regina hurried down to the carriage, she found
that Mrs. Carew, her little daughter and maid, had just arrived.
Avoiding a presentation, she proceeded at once to the "Rehearsal,"
and dismissed the carriage, assuring Farley that it was wrong to keep
the horses out in such inclement weather; and as she was provided
with "waterproof," overshoes, and umbrella, would walk home.

The musical exercises were unusually tedious, the choruses were
halting and uneven, and the repetition seemed endless. The day
darkened, and the great bronze chandeliers were lighted, and still
Professor Hurtzsel mercilessly flourished his baton, and required new
trials; until at length feverishly impatient, Regina having
satisfactorily rendered her _solos_, requested and received
permission to retire.

It was almost four o'clock, t