scarcely deceive herself longer--there was evidently now
nothing warmer than liking left.

Poor girl! she was easily discouraged, and felt no resentment; she did
not even think it necessary to conjure up a rival to account for the
discontinuation of his attentions, till a slight incident revealed one to
her. She was sitting alone in the morning-room, and, being somewhat of a
china fancier, turned a cup on a bracket upside down, to examine the mark
at the bottom. In doing so, a bit of paper fluttered out, and as she
picked it up, the words, "West Wood, four o'clock," met her startled
gaze. She was convinced that the writing was Harry's, but whom could the
assignation be intended for? Soon after Bluebell came into the room as it
seemed to her with no very apparent purpose Lady Geraldine, not without
design, seated herself at a small writing-table, with her back to the
bracket, and almost immediately heard a slight clatter. Miss Leigh had
vanished, and so had the paper from the teacup.

"I wish I dare go to the West Wood," thought Geraldine, for she was not
all perfect, and the indignation in her heart inspired a deep desire to
expose the underhand behaviour of the designing governess. That evening
Harry had been talking to her longer than usual. Bluebell was singing at
the piano, and finally began the Persian song of "The May Rose to the
Nightingale." Geraldine listened, attracted by the sentiment. One verse
was unfortunately suggestive--

Moonlight, moonlight, think'st thou he'd leave me
For one so pale--for one so pale
But moonlight, moonlight, if he deceive me,
Tell not the tale--tell not the tale

Then Geraldine's pallid complexion was flushed with resentment, for she
imagined the words levelled at herself. Next day--unable to resist again
examining the cup--she found another fold of paper, but this time in a
female handwriting. Harry, of course, would come for it and she
determined to remain till he did so. The room was then tolerably full.
Some time after Dutton dropped in with another man, and, all unconscious
of _surveillance_, lingered till only he and Lady Geraldine remained in
the room.

"Mr. Dutton," she said, in her somewhat reedy voice, "I understand a
little about china, but cannot make out the date of that little yellow
cup, the mark at the bottom is so defaced."

It was said meaningly, and Harry understood that he was discovered. To
throw himself upon her generosity seemed an obvious n