letter in a rack upon the chimney, and for some
seconds was lost in thought.

"If Lady Janet, sir, would be kind enough to receive the company,"
murmured Phillis, softly.

"Pooh, man, it is of no consequence!" said Linton, roughly, his mind
dwelling on a very different theme. "Let who will play host or hostess."

"Perhaps you would come down yourself soon, sir?" asked Phillis, who
read in the impatience of Linton's manner the desire to be alone, and
coupled that desire with some mysterious purpose.

"Yes, leave me, Phillis; I'm going to dress," said he, hurriedly. "Has
_he_ returned yet?"

"No, sir; and we expected him at five o'clock."

"And it is now nine," said the other, solemnly; "four hours later."

"It is very singular!" exclaimed Phillis, who was more struck by the
altered expression of Linton's face than by the common-place fact he
affected to marvel at.

"Why singular? What is remarkable? That a man should be delayed some
time on a business matter, particularly when there was no urgency to
repair elsewhere?"

"Nothing more common, sir; only that Mr. Cashel said positively he
should be here at five. He had ordered the cob pony to be ready for
him,--a sign that he was going to pay a visit at the cottage."

Linton made no reply, but his lips curled into a smile of dark and
ominous meaning.

"Leave me, Phillis," said he, at length; "I shall be late with all this
cumbrous finery I am to wear."

"Shall I send your man, sir?" said Phillis, slyly eying him as he spoke.

"Yes--no, Phillis--not yet I 'll ring for him later."

And with these words Linton seated himself in a large chair, apparently
unconscious of the other's presence.

Mr. Phillis withdrew noiselessly--but not far; for after advancing a few
steps along the corridor, he cautiously returned, and listened at the
door.

Linton sat for a few seconds, as if listening to the other's retreating
footsteps; and then, noiselessly arising from his chair, he approached
the door of the chamber, at which, with bent-down head, Phillis watched.
With a sudden jerk of the handle Linton threw open the door, and stood
before the terrified menial.

"I was afraid you were ill, sir. I thought your manner was strange."

"Not half so strange as this conduct, Mr. Phillis," said Linton, slowly,
as he folded his arms composedly on his breast. "Come in." He pointed,
as he spoke, to the room; but Phillis seemed reluctant to enter, and
made a gesture of excuse. "C