tranger?" sighed Clara, wearily.

"No, love; you need not stir until it is time to dress for dinner; it
will answer quite well if you meet your guardian at table," said Marah,
who had particular reasons for wishing that Clara should first see
Colonel Le Noir with other company, to have an opportunity of observing
him well and possibly forming an estimate of his character (as a young
girl of her fine instincts might well do) before she should be exposed
in a tete-a-tete to those deceptive blandishments he knew so well how to
bring into play.

"That is a respite. Oh, dear Mrs. Rocke, you don't know how I dread to
see any one!"

"My dear Clara, you must combat grief by prayer, which is the only thing
that can overcome it," said Marah.

Mrs. Rocke remained with her young charge as long as she possibly could,
and then she went down-stairs to oversee the preparation of the dinner.

And it was at the dinner-table that Marah, with the quiet and gentle
dignity for which she was distinguished, introduced the younger members
of the family to the guest, in these words:

"Your ward, Miss Day, Colonel Le Noir."

The colonel bowed deeply and raised the hand of Clara to his lips,
murmuring some sweet, soft, silvery and deferentially inaudible words of
condolence, sympathy and melancholy pleasure, from which Clara, with a
gentle bend of her head, withdrew to take her seat.

"Colonel Le Noir, my son, Doctor Rocke," said Marah, presenting
Traverse.

The colonel stared superciliously, bowed with ironical depth, said he
was "much honored," and, turning his back on the young man, placed
himself at the table.

During the dinner he exerted himself to be agreeable to Miss Day and
Mrs. Rocke, but Traverse he affected to treat with supercilious neglect
or ironical deference.

Our young physician had too much self-respect to permit himself to be in
any degree affected by this rudeness. And Marah, on her part, was glad,
so that it did not trouble Traverse, that Le Noir should behave in this
manner, so that Clara should be enabled to form some correct idea of his
disposition.

When dinner was over Clara excused herself and retired to her room,
whither she was soon followed by Mrs. Rocke.

"Well, my dear, how do you like your guardian?" asked Marah, in a tone
as indifferent as she could make it.

"I do not like him at all!" exclaimed Clara, her gentle blue eyes
flashing with indignation through her tears; "I do not like him at all,