the terrace
with Marlow. Lady Hastings sent word that she would breakfast in her own
room, when she had obtained a few hours' rest, as she had not slept all
night. Thus Emily had to attend to the breakfast-table in her mother's
place; but in those days the lady's functions at the morning meal were
not so various and important as at present; and the breakfast passed
lightly and pleasantly. Still there was no mention of the business which
had caused Emily to be summoned so suddenly, and when the breakfast was
over, Sir Philip retired to his library, without asking Emily to follow,
and merely saying, "You had better not disturb your mother, my dear
child. If you take a walk I will join you ere long."

For the first time, a doubt, a notion--for I must not call it a
suspicion--came across the mind of Emily, that the business for which
she had been sent might have something to do with Mr. Marlow. How her
little heart beat! She sat quite still for a minute or two, for she did
not know, if she rose, what would become of her.

At length the voice of Marlow roused her from her gently-troubled
reverie, as he said, "Will you not come out to take a walk?"

She consented at once, and went away to prepare. Nor was she long, for
in less than ten minutes, she and Marlow were crossing the park, towards
the older and thicker trees amidst which they had rambled once before.
But it was Marlow who now led her on a path which he chose himself. I
know not whether it was some memory of his walk with Mrs. Hazleton, or
whether it was that instinct which leads love to seek shady places, or
whether, like a skilful general, he had previously reconnoitred the
ground; but something or other in his own breast induced him to deviate
from the more direct track which they had followed on their previous
walk, and guide his fair companion across the short dry turf towards the
thickest part of the wood, through which there penetrated, winding in
and out amongst the trees, a small path, just wide enough for two,
bowered overhead by crossing branches, and gaining sweet woodland scenes
of light and shade at every step, as the eye dived into the deep green
stillness between the large old trunks, carefully freed from underwood,
and with their feet carpeted with moss, and flowers, and fern. It was
called the deer's track, from the fact that along it, morning and
evening, all the bucks and does which had herded on that side of the
park might be seen walking stat