she loved anything in the world she loved Hector Bracondale, but her
feelings gave her no anxieties. He would certainly marry her presently,
the affair would be so suitable to all parties; meanwhile, there was
plenty of time, and all was in order. The perfect method of her
account-books, in which the last sixpence she spent in the day was duly
entered, translated itself to her life. Method and order were its
watchwords; and if the people who knew her intimately--such as her
chaperon, Mrs. Herrick, and her maid, Gibson--thought her mean, she was
not aware of their opinion, and went her way in solid rejoicing.

Lady Bracondale was really attached to her. Morella's decorum, her
absence of all daring thought in conversation, pleased her so. She had
none of that feeling when with Miss Winmarleigh she suffered in the
company of her daughter Anne, who said things so often she did not quite
understand, yet which she dimly felt might have two meanings, and one of
them a meaning she most probably would disapprove of.

She loved Anne, of course, but oh, that she could have been more like
herself or Morella Winmarleigh!

Both women saw Hector in the omnibus box, and saw him leave it, and were
quite ready with their greetings when he joined them.

Miss Winmarleigh had a slight air of proprietorship about her, which
every one knew when Hector was there. And most people thought as she
did, that he would certainly marry her in the near future.

He was glad it was not between the acts--there was no excuse for
conversation after their greeting, so he searched the house in peace
with his glasses.

And although he was hoping to see Theodora, his heart gave a great bound
of surprised joy when, on the pit tier, almost next the box he had just
left, he discovered her. He supposed it was a box often let to strangers
that season, as he could not remember whose the name was as he had
passed. He got back into the shadow, that his gaze should not be too
remarkable. She had not caught sight of him yet, or so it seemed.

There she sat with her husband and another woman, whom he recognized as
one of those kind creatures who go everywhere in society and help
strangers when suitably compensated for their trouble.

Where on earth could she have come across Mrs. Devlyn? he wondered. A
poisonous woman, who would fill her ears with tales of all the world.
Then he guessed, and rightly, the introduction had been effected by
Captain Fitzgerald, who wo