-scence, her wish had been
but too abundantly accomplished.

It was weeks since she had heard from Dutton, whose first letter had
never been repeated, and she begun to believe that the headlong passion
that had led him to force her, almost against her will, into marriage
with him was as short-lived as it had been quickly kindled.

She remembered Bertie Du Meresq, who had appeared quite as desperate at
first, and then had quietly transferred his affections to Cecil. Like the
Psalmist, she could have "said in her heart, all men are liars."

Harry near--adoring--_exigeant_, could be an evil; but Harry away,
engaged every thought; and if thinking of a person is the first step
to love, he ought to have been satisfied with the way Bluebell was
employing herself.

One evening she was sitting in her bed-room with the window open. There
was a light breath of spring in the air though the nights were frosty. It
was near midnight, and starlight, which has ever attractions for the
young; later on, a warm fireside and creature comforts are more
congenial. Archie, the dog, with his nose on his paws, bore her company;
presently he gave a low growl, and pricked his ears--a moment after,
Bluebell fancied she could hear the sound of wheels on the frosty ground.
It became clearer and clearer; presently she could distinguish the red
lights of a fly, and then she knew that Harry was come.

That his mission had been unsuccessful, she read at once in avoidance
of her questioning eyes, yet, strange to say, it seemed of secondary
importance. Dutton himself, for the first time, was of all-absorbing
interest to Bluebell. His presence seemed to break the lethargic spell
that had bound her, while no small detail of appearance and dress escaped
her, even that his hair was parted differently. Dutton, who had dreaded
the first meeting, was relieved by Bluebell's manner, and saw at once
they were more _en rapport_. He was only too willing to procrastinate
bad tidings, so it was not till the next day that she realized the whole
fatal truth. Harry was going to the war with their marriage still
unacknowledged.

He related, truthfully enough, his conversation with Lord Bromley. Even
then, in her deep interest as to its result, Bluebell vaguely noticed the
curious coincidence of his uncle also having disinherited a son, but,
having a more dominant idea in her mind, that was left in a vacant
corner, to crop up at some future time.

Dutton was vexed th