mazement was certainly not assumed. Moreover, the
expression of her face was conjuring from a dim past a host of memories.
He became strangely moved, and could scarcely bear the gaze which
recalled so forcibly Theodore in his youth.

Which made the first movement neither knew. "My dearest little girl!" he
murmured, and folded her in his arms.

Bluebell was weak and silent from surprise mingled with extreme
happiness, and Lord Bromley had gone back in thought to former years, and
dare not trust himself to speak; so they were both too absorbed to notice
the entrance of Harry Dutton, who remained rooted to the spot (like a
stuck pig, as he afterwards elegantly described it), and a smothered
exclamation burst from his lips.

Lord Bromley hurriedly withdrew himself from Bluebell, not particularly
gratified at being surprized in so romantic a _pose_ at his time of life.

"What the d----l are you doing here, sir?" he angrily demanded.

Harry, considering he had quite as good a right to ask that question,
turned inquiringly and gloomily to Bluebell, who, feeling if she
attempted to open her lips she must either go off into a hysterical fit
of laughter or burst into tears, said nothing; and the uncle and nephew
continued to glare at each other.

She signed to Dutton to speak; but he was too mystified and sulky; so
Bluebell, in desperation, plunged _in medias res_.

"Harry!" she cried, "this is my grandfather as well as your uncle! Why,
we must be cousins!" Then, after an instant's pause, with downcast eyes
and crimson cheeks, she penitently kissed the old man's hand, and
whispered,--"He is my husband too; we meant to have told you to-morrow!"

So the dread secret was out at last! Silence, that could be felt, ensued,
and seemed endless to the two culprits, who, with drooping eyes, waited
anxiously for him to speak.

Now, this announcement was hardly so unexpected as they supposed, and far
more welcome than their wildest dreams could have anticipated. Lord
Bromley's agent, who paid the annuity to Mrs. Leigh, was also in the
habit of giving him periodical information of the well-being of his
grand-daughter. When, however, she eloped from Captain Davidson's house,
he had lost sight of her for a time, but afterwards picked up the clue at
Mrs. Markham's. When they also disappeared so suddenly, the agent was
again at fault, Bluebell having changed her situation in the interval.

Advancing years had softened Lord Bromley. The