ight bury herself where she would, in the
most desolate corner of the earth, but she could not leave Lady
Anna in Bedford Square. In a few months Lady Anna might choose any
residence she pleased for herself, and there could be no doubt whose
house she would share, if she were not still kept in subjection. The
two parted then in deep grief,--the mother almost cursing her child
in her anger, and Lady Anna overwhelmed with tears. "Will you not
kiss me, mamma, before you go?"

"No, I will never kiss you again till you have shown me that you are
my child."

But before she left the house, the Countess was closeted for a while
with Mrs. Bluestone, and, in spite of all that she had said, it was
agreed between them that it would be better to permit an interview
between the girl and Daniel Thwaite. "Let him say what he will,"
argued Mrs. Bluestone, "she will not be more headstrong than she is
now. You will still be able to take her away with you to some foreign
country."

"But he will treat her as though he were her lover," said the
Countess, unable to conceal the infinite disgust with which the idea
overwhelmed her.

"What does it matter, Lady Lovel? We have got to get a promise from
her, somehow. Since she was much with him, she has seen people of
another sort, and she will feel the difference. It may be that she
wants to ask him to release her. At any rate she speaks as though she
might be released by what he would say to her. Unless she thought
it might be so herself, she would not make a conditional promise. I
would let them meet."

"But where?"

"In Keppel Street."

"In my presence?"

"No, not that; but you will, of course, be in the house,--so that she
cannot leave it with him. Let her come to you. It will be an excuse
for her doing so, and then she can remain. If she does not give the
promise, take her abroad, and teach her to forget it by degrees." So
it was arranged, and on that evening Mrs. Bluestone told Lady Anna
that she was to be allowed to meet Daniel Thwaite.

CHAPTER XXXIII.

DANIEL THWAITE RECEIVES HIS MONEY.

There was of course much commotion among all circles of society in
London as soon as it was known to have been decided that the Countess
Lovel was the Countess Lovel, and that Lady Anna was the heiress
of the late Earl. Bets were paid,--and bets no doubt were left
unpaid,--to a great amount. Men at the clubs talked more about the
Lovels than they had done even during the month pre