threatening; and, in the event of hostilities being
declared, he had applied for a ship on active service.

Could he, then, when he might never return, leave Bluebell with their
marriage unacknowledged? "Though," thought he, in his moody reverie, "if
_that_ were all right, I don't believe she would care a pin if _I_ were
knocked over by a round shot."

Some curiosity and a good deal of chaff greeted Dutton on his return;
but Kate did not fail to remark how little he entered into, and how
quickly turned it off. That cousin Harry had some mystery of his own, the
astute damsel was pretty well convinced, though to the rest he appeared
light-hearted and hilarious, and enjoying to the full his enviable
position.

"What a lucky young fellow that is?" had been remarked at different times
by nearly every guest in the house. And the days slipped by, Harry very
much "made of" by Lady Calvert, while Lady Geraldine's preference was of
an unobtrusive and reticent nature--impalpable, yet grateful to the
senses as the fragrance of an invisible, leaf-hidden violet.

And Bluebell, all alone in her retreat, and each day passing without
tidings, began to think she had over-estimated Harry's once troublesome
adoration, and almost to doubt if he would ever return.

In truth, he was ashamed to write. The longer the confession was
deferred, the harder it became; and he had now assigned himself a date.
On receiving sailing orders to the Baltic, he would tell all, and make
it, perhaps, a last request to his uncle to acknowledge his wife. In the
mean time why plague himself about it? Things must take their course.

They were sitting one day in a pretty breakfast-room. Kate rather angry
with her Colonel, who lingered on, always apparently at boiling point,
yet never so far bubbling over as to commit himself in words. Harry, too,
was looking actually interested in Geraldine, whose large, honest eyes
were beaming with a sort of tender happiness. Lord Bromley was not in the
room. Clearly he must be detached.

"Doesn't this dear old room remind you of childish days?" cried the
artless damsel. "It used always to be summer or Christmas then; and we
had tea here in such beautiful china, so different from the horrid
school-room crockery."

"And sometimes we were so long over it, they couldn't clear away before
the company passed through to dinner, and we got under the table to watch
them," said Harry.

"And we used to put out the little sofas an