s own, her ungloved
hand touched his, and the touch was like that of ice.

"What will the servants think?--what excuse can we make?" said Ferrers,
when they stood beneath the porch. Florence did not reply; but as the
door opened, she said softly,--

"I am ill--ill," and clung to Ferrers with that unnerved and heavy
weight which betokens faintness.

The light glared on her--the faces of the lacqueys betokened their
undisguised astonishment. With a violent effort, Florence recovered
herself, for she had not yet done with pride, swept through the hall
with her usual stately step, slowly ascended the broad staircase, and
gained the solitude of her own room, to fall senseless on the floor.

BOOK IX.

I go, the bride of Acheron.--SOPH. _Antig._

These things are in the Future.--_Ib._ 1333.

CHAPTER I.

* * * "There the action lies
In its true nature * * * *
* * * What then? What rests?
Try what repentance can!"--_Hamlet_.

"I doubt he will be dead or ere I come."--_King John_.

IT was a fine afternoon in December, when Lumley Ferrers turned from
Lord Saxingham's door. The knockers were muffled--the windows on the
third story were partially closed. There was sickness in that house.

Lumley's face was unusually grave; it was even sad. "So young--so
beautiful," he muttered. "If ever I loved woman, I do believe I loved
her:--that love must be my excuse.... I repent of what I have done--but
I could not foresee that a mere lover's stratagem was to end in such
effects--the metaphysician was very right when he said, 'We only
sympathise with feelings we know ourselves.' A little disappointment in
love could not have hurt me much--it is d----d odd it should hurt her
so. I am altogether out of luck: old Templeton--I beg his pardon, Lord
Vargrave--(by-the-by, he gets heartier every day--what a constitution he
has!) seems cross with me. He did not like the idea that I should marry
Lady Florence--and when I thought that vision might have been realised,
hinted that I was disappointing some expectations he had formed; I can't
make out what he means. Then, too, the government have offered that
place to Maltravers instead of to me. In fact, my star is not in the
ascendant. Poor Florence, though,--I would really give a great deal
to know her restored to health!--I have done a villainous thing, but I
thought it only a clever one. However, regret is a fool's passion. By
Jupiter!--talking of fools, here comes