terest in
my eyes, and then I feel ashamed of such triviality. To live among the
rich, a man should be born among them,--should have the habits, the
tastes, and the traditions. These are to be imbibed from infancy, but
not acquired in manhood,--at least, I will not begin the study."

He turned homeward, still slowly. The bell was ringing which called the
guests to dress for dinner, as he reached a large open lawn before the
house, and for a moment he halted, muttering to himself, "How would it
be, now, were I to turn my horse's head, and never re-enter that house?
How many are there, of all my 'dear friends,' who would ever ask what
befell me?"

Arrived at the door, he passed upstairs to his dressing-room, upon
a table of which he perceived a very small note, sealed with Lady
Kilgoff's initials. It was written in pencil, and merely contained one
line: "Come over to me, before dinner, for one minute.--L. K."

He had not seen her since the day before, when he had in vain sought
to overtake her in the wood; and her absence from the dinner-table
had seemed to him in pique at his breach of engagement. Was this an
endeavor, then, to revive that strange relationship between them, which
took every form save love-making, but was all the more dangerous on that
account? Or was it merely to take up some commonplace plan of amusement
and pleasure,--that mock importance given to trifles which as frequently
makes them cease to be trifles?

Half careless as to what the invitation portended, and still pondering
over his failure, he reached her door and knocked.

"Come in," said she; and he entered.

Dressed for dinner with unusual taste and splendor, he had never seen
her look so beautiful. For some time back she had observed an
almost studied simplicity of dress, rarely wearing an ornament, and
distinguishing herself rather by a half Puritanism of style. The sudden
change to all the blaze of diamonds, and the softening influence of deep
folds of lace, gave a brilliancy to her appearance quite magicial; nor
was Cashel's breeding proof against a stare of amazement and admiration.

A deeper flush on her cheek acknowledged how she felt his confusion,
and, hastening to relieve it, she said,--

"I have but a moment to speak to you. It is almost seven o'clock. You
were at 'the cottage' to-day?"

"Yes," said Roland, his cheek growing scarlet as he spoke.

"And, doubtless, your visit had some object of importance. Nay, no
confession