n. He told me
some story about papers of Lord Ongar. I have nothing to do with Lord
Ongar's papers. Everything of which I knew was sealed up in the count's
presence and in mine, and was sent to the lawyers for the executors. I
looked at nothing; not at one word in a single letter. What could he
have to say to me of Lord Ongar's papers?"

"Or he might have written?"

"At any rate he should not have come there, Harry. I would not see him,
nor, if I can help it, will I see him here. I will be open with you,
Harry. I think that perhaps it might suit him to make me his wife. Such
an arrangement, however, would not suit me. I am not going to be
frightened into marrying a man, because he has been falsely called my
lover. If I cannot escape the calumny in any other way, I will not
escape it in that way."

"Has he said anything?"

"No; not a word. I have not seen him since the day after Lord Ongar's
funeral. But I have seen his sister."

"And has she proposed such a thing?"

"No, she has not proposed it. But she talks of it, saying that it would
not do. Then when I tell her that of course it would not do, she shows
me all that would make it expedient. She is so sly and so false, that
with all my eyes open I cannot quite understand her, or quite know what
she is doing. I do not feel sure that she wishes it herself."

"She told me that it would not do."

"She did, did she? If she speaks of it again, tell her that she is
right, that it will never do. Had he not come down to Ongar Park, I
should not have mentioned this to you. I should not have thought that he
had in truth any such schemes in his head. He did not tell you that he
had been there?"

"He did not mention it. Indeed, he said very little about you at all."

"No, he would not. He is cautious. He never talks of anybody to anybody.
He speaks only of the outward things of the world. Now, Harry, what you
must do for me is this." As she was speaking to him she was leaning
again upon the table, with her forehead resting upon her hands. Her
small widow's cap had become thus thrust back, and was now nearly off
her head, so that her rich brown hair was to be seen in its full
luxuriance, rich and lovely as it had ever been. Could it be that she
felt--half thought, half felt, without knowing that she thought it--that
while the signs of her widowhood were about her, telling in their too
plain language the tale of what she had been, he could not dare to speak
to her of his