ecessity. With a
conscious yet penetrating glance, closing the half open door, he
exclaimed, impulsively, "Dear Lady Geraldine, may I tell you something
about myself?"

Geraldine flushed hotly. This was somewhat more than she had bargained
for. With the slightest _soupcon_ of stateliness, dreading what was to
follow, she managed to say, that "Whatever he liked to tell her should go
no further."

"It will all be known soon enough," cried he. "But I fancy Lady
Geraldine, you have some suspicion I know I can trust you, and you have
been always so kind and sympathetic to me, it is a much greater comfort
telling you than Kate."

Geraldine bowed her head. She was determined not to betray herself, and
even felt some little curiosity, though how abundantly that faculty was
to be gratified ere she left the room, she certainly had not foreseen.
One result was, it had an immediately bracing effect, for, with all her
humility, Geraldine had the pride of self respect, and the confession
completely disabused her of the idea that Harry had ever aspired to being
suitor of hers. It was a pang, no doubt. Even his confidence might have a
double meaning. Had she any of the fury of a woman scorned, what an
amount of mischief would be in her power. But Harry's instinct was right,
and he never regretted his reliance on Geraldine's honour and pride.

Dutton and his wife continued to meet daily in secret. They had agreed to
confess to Lord Bromley directly the visitors should have left, but I
think were still young enough to enjoy the stratagems necessary for those
stolen interviews. How many narrow escapes they were to laugh at
afterwards and, in society, when they appeared on such conventional terms
as respectful youth and prudent governess, how many _doubles entendres_
Harry hazarded, to see Bluebell struggling with alarmed risibility.

But the rash pair were outwitted at last, and run to earth by Kate in the
moss arbour. How much of their conversation had been overheard, or how
long she had stood there before springing out, of course could be only
conjecture. A violent start had been irrepressible, and, as they both
were speechless from the shock, Kate remained mistress of the situation,
and evidently not disposed to be merciful. A few sarcastic expressions to
her cousin, some cutting remarks on Bluebell's deceitful and designing
conduct, and she was gone--apparently for the purpose of exposing the
intrigue she imagined herself to have