pression of disappointment that she had not done better.

Those dwelling in the house foresaw what was about to take place. Aubrey
Langton became the widow's shadow. Wherever she went he followed her; he
made love to her with the most persevering assiduity, and it seemed to
be with the energy of a man who had set himself a task and meant to go
through with it.

He also assumed certain airs of mastership. He knew that he had but to
speak one word, and Darrell Court would be his. He spoke in a tone of
authority, and the servants had already begun to look upon him as their
master.

Silent, haughty, and reserved, Pauline Darrell stood aside and
watched--watched with a kind of silent triumph which filled Miss
Hastings with wonder--watched and spoke no word--allowed her contempt
and dislike to be seen in every action, yet never uttered one
word--watched like a beautiful, relentless spirit of fate.

Throughout the bright, long summer months Aubrey Langton staid on at
Darrell Court, and at last did what he intended to do--proposed to Lady
Darrell. He was accepted. It was the end of July then, but, yielding to
her regard for appearances, it was agreed that no further word should be
said of marriage until the spring of the following year.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

"I HAVE HAD MY REVENGE!"

It was a warm, beautiful morning, with a dull haze lying over the fair
summer earth; and Pauline Darrell, finding even the large, airy rooms
too warm, went out to seek her favorite shade--the shelter of the great
cedar tree. As she sat with her book in her hand--of which she never
turned a page--Miss Hastings watched her, wondering at the dark shadow
that had fallen over her beauty, wondering at the concentration of
thought in her face, wondering whether this shadow of disappointment
would darken all her life or if it would pass away, wondering if the
vengeance to which she had vowed herself was planned yet; and to them,
so silent and absorbed, came the pretty, bright vision of Lady Darrell,
wearing a white morning dress with blue ribbons in her golden hair. The
brightness and freshness of the morning seemed to linger on her fair
face, as she drew near them with a smile on her lips, and a look of
half-proud shyness in her eyes.

"I am glad you are both here," she said; "I have something to tell you."
The blush and the smile deepened. "Perhaps you can guess what it is.
Miss Hastings, you are smiling--Pauline, you do not look at me. Capt