ng to brace her resolution by recalling the conversation that had
taken place there on a like occasion. But alas! how much more the
heart had now to say! How much it felt as if the only shelter or rest
in the desolate world was in the light of the blue eyes whose tender
sunshine had been on her for one instant!

Yet she began firmly--'If you please, would you be so kind as to let me
go to Aunt Melicent?'

'By-and-by, my dear, when you think fit.'

'Oh, then, at once, and without seeing any one, please!'

'Nay, Mary,' with redoubled gentleness, 'there is one who cannot let
you go without seeing him. Mary, you will not disappoint my poor boy
again. You will let him be an amendment in my scheme.'

'You have been always most kind to me, but you cannot really like this.'

'You forget that it has been my most ardent wish from the moment I saw
you what only your mother's child could be.'

'That was before-- No, I ought not! Yours is not a family to bring
disgrace into.'

'I cannot allow you to speak thus. I knew your trials at home when
first I wished you to be my son's wife, and my opinion is unchanged,
except by my increased wish to have the first claim to you.'

'Lord Ormersfield,' said Mary, collecting herself 'only one thing. Tell
me, as if we were indifferent persons, is this a connexion such as
would do Louis any harm? I trust you to answer.'

He paced along the room, and she tried to control her trembling. He
came back and spoke: No, Mary. If he were a stranger, I should give
the same advice. Your father's own family is unexceptionable; and
those kind of things, so far off--few will ever hear of them, and no
one will attach consequence to them. If that be your only scruple, it
does you infinite credit; but I can entirely remove it. What might be
an injury to you, single, would be of comparatively little importance
to him.'

'Miss Conway,' faltered Mary, who could never remember her, when in
Louis's presence.

'A mere delusion, of our own. There was nothing in it. He calls you
the only woman who can make him happy, as I always knew you were. He
must explain all. You will come to him, my dear child.'

Mary resisted no more; he led her down stairs, and left her within the
dining-room door.

'Mary, you will now--' was all Louis said; but she let him draw her
into his arms, and she rested against his breast, as when he had come
to comfort her in the great thunderstorm in auld lang-syne. She