I, remembering that he had sat beside her for more than a
quarter of an hour after tea in very close and low-toned conversation; 'and
have you any particular reason?' I asked.

'Well, I heard her once or twice call him "dear," and she called him his
Christian name, just like Lady Knollys did--Ilbury, I think--and I saw him
gi' her a sly kiss as she was going up-stairs.'

I laughed.

'Well, Milly,' I said, 'I remarked something myself, I thought, like
confidential relations; but if you really saw them kiss on the staircase,
the question is pretty well settled.'

'Ay, lass.'

'You're not to say _lass_.'

'Well, _Maud, then_. I did see them with the corner of my eye, and my back
turned, when they did not think I could spy anything, as plain as I see you
now.'

I laughed again; but I felt an odd pang--something of
mortification--something of regret; but I smiled very gaily, as I stood
before the glass, un-making my toilet preparatory to bed.

'Maud--Maud--fickle Maud!--What, Captain Oakley already superseded! and Mr.
Carysbroke--oh! humiliation--engaged.' So I smiled on, very much vexed;
and being afraid lest I had listened with too apparent an interest to this
impostor, I sang a verse of a gay little chanson, and tried to think of
Captain Oakley, who somehow had become rather silly.

CHAPTER XLIII

_NEWS AT BARTRAM GATE_

Milly and I, thanks to our early Bartram hours, were first down next
morning; and so soon as Cousin Monica appeared we attacked her.

'So Lady Mary is the _fiancee_ of Mr. Carysbroke,' said I, very cleverly;
'and I think it was very wicked of you to try and involve me in a
flirtation with him yesterday.'

'And who told you that, pray?' asked Lady Knollys, with a pleasant little
laugh.

'Milly and I discovered it, simple as we stand here,' I answered.

'But you did not flirt with Mr. Carysbroke, Maud, did you?' she asked.

'No, certainly not; but that was not your doing, wicked woman, but my
discretion. And now that we know your secret, you must tell us all about
her, and all about him; and in the first place, what is her name--Lady Mary
what?' I demanded.

'Who would have thought you so cunning? Two country misses--two little nuns
from the cloisters of Bartram! Well, I suppose I must answer. It is vain
trying to hide anything from you; but how on earth did you find it out?'

'We'll tell you that presently, but you shall first tell us who she is,' I
persisted.

'Well, that