had with me yesterday at your request,
let me say once for all, that I cannot consent to its revival. Mr.
Roscoe, we are good friends now, I hope; but we should be such no
longer, if you persist in violating my wishes in this matter."

"What I wish to say to you involves your own safety and happiness."

"I am grateful for your kind intentions, but they result from some
erroneous impression. My individual welfare is bound up with those
whom you know not, and at all events I prefer not to discuss it."

"You refuse me the privilege of a confidential talk with you?"

"Yes, Mr. Roscoe. Now be pleasant, and let us converse on some more
agreeable topic. Did you ever meet Mrs. Carew until to-day?"

He was too angry to reply immediately; but after a little while
mastered his indignation.

"I have the pleasure of knowing Mrs. Carew quite well."

"She is remarkably beautiful."

"Oh, unquestionably! And she knows it better than any other article
in her creed. New York is spoiling her dreadfully."

He turned and addressed some remarks to Miss St. Clare, who sat on
his right, and Regina rejoiced in the opportunity afforded her of
becoming a quiet observer and listener. She had never seen her
guardian so animated, so handsome as now, while he smiled genially
and talked with his lovely guest, and watching them, Regina
recollected the remark concerning their appearance which had been
made by the gentleman in the car.

Was it possible that after all the lawyer's heart had been seriously
interested? Could that satin-cheeked, grey-eyed Circe with pale
yellow hair and lashes, hold him in silken bonds at her feet? The
idea that he could be captivated by any woman seemed utterly
incompatible with all that his ward knew of his life and character,
and it had appeared an established fact that he was incapable of any
tender emotion; but certainly at this instant the expression with
which he was gazing down into Mrs. Carew's lotos face, was earnestly
admiring. While Regina watched the pair, a cold sensation crept over
her as on some mild starlit night, one suddenly and unconsciously
drifts under the lee of some vast, slow-sailing iceberg, and knows
not, dreams not, of danger until smitten with the fatal prophetic
chill.

Suppose the ambitious middle-aged man intended to marry this wealthy,
petted, lovely widow, was it not in all respects a brilliant suitable
match, which _le beau monde_ would cordially applaud? Was there a
possibili