no doubt. Listen, Harry. It is bad enough your having
made a fool of that very nice girl; but, if ever you wish to be master of
this house, the sooner you get rid of all disgraceful entanglements, the
better."

Dutton's good angel battled hard with the tempter, but the latter held
him silent.

Lord Bromley spoke again, but his voice, though stern, was broken.

"I disinherited my only son for a marriage that displeased me, by which
you have benefited. He died unreconciled to me. You may judge what
quarter _you_ would get in a similar offence!"

The old peer's face had turned to granite. A variety of expressions
shifted across Harry's while his uncle continued,--"Yes, you had better
go to town, as you have raised expectations here you seem to have no
intention of fulfilling--_at present_," and he rose from his chair and
held out his hand to his nephew. "Good-bye, Harry. You have something
else to think of now; and when you return I hope you will have more
sense."

It was not manly--it was not heroic--but with the wisdom of the children
of this world, Dutton passed from his uncle's presence with his secret
still unrevealed.

The watcher at the library window saw another carriage drive round. This
time it was a double dog-cart, and two or three leather portmanteaus were
being disposed on it at a side door.

Already! Geraldine grew nervous. He might come in at any moment, or
perhaps would not know any of the ladies had remained at home.

"Still, he could _ask_," whispered her heart. She had not long to remain
in suspense. Harry came out, jumped into the dog-cart, and gathered up
the reins; then he looked up and saw Geraldine's stricken face. He
blushed hotly as he took off his hat, and shot one sorrowful glance from
his eyes ere he drove off, at headlong speed, to the station.

CHAPTER XXXIV.

HARRY GOES TO THE BALTIC.

Is this my lord of Leicester's love,
That he so oft have swore to me?
To leave me in this lonely grove?
Immured in shameful privity?
--Unknown.

Bluebell, a lonely little recluse at the cottage, seemed to have passed
a lifetime there, so long were the uneventful days. She was not exactly
unhappy, being too young and healthy to be a prey to low spirits. Still,
her life could hardly be called satisfactory. In the first days of their
marriage she would exclaim in her heart. "Oh, to be sometimes alone;"
then, with the suddenness of a transformation