ether ignorant of all that
Major Mackintosh had known, and therefore endeavoured to receive him
as though her heart were light.

"Oh, Frank," she said, "you have heard of our terrible misfortune
here?"

"I have heard so much," said he gravely, "that I hardly know what to
believe and what not to believe."

"I mean about Miss Roanoke's marriage?"

"Oh, yes;--I have been told that it is broken off."

Then Lizzie, with affected eagerness, gave him a description of the
whole affair, declaring how horrible, how tragic, the thing had been
from its very commencement. "Don't you remember, Frank, down at
Portray, they never really cared for each other? They became engaged
the very time you were there."

"I have not forgotten it."

"The truth is, Lucinda Roanoke did not understand what real love
means. She had never taught herself to comprehend what is the very
essence of love;--and as for Sir Griffin Tewett, though he was
anxious to marry her, he never had any idea of love at all. Did not
you always feel that, Frank?"

"I'm sorry you have had so much to do with them, Lizzie."

"There's no help for spilt milk, Frank; and, as for that, I don't
suppose that Mrs. Carbuncle can do me any harm. The man is a baronet,
and the marriage would have been respectable. Miss Roanoke has been
eccentric, and that has been the long and the short of it. What will
be done, Frank, with all the presents that were bought?"

"I haven't an idea. They'd better be sold to pay the bills. But I
came to you, Lizzie, about another piece of business."

"What piece of business?" she asked, looking him in the face for a
moment, trying to be bold, but trembling as she did so. She had
believed him to be ignorant of her story, but she had soon perceived,
from his manner to her, that he knew it all,--or, at least, that he
knew so much that she would have to tell him all the rest. There
could be no longer any secret with him. Indeed there could be no
longer any secret with anybody. She must be prepared to encounter a
world accurately informed as to every detail of the business which,
for the last three months, had been to her a burden so oppressive
that, at some periods, she had sunk altogether under the weight. She
had already endeavoured to realise her position, and to make clear to
herself the condition of her future life. Lord George had talked to
her of perjury and prison, and had tried to frighten her by making
the very worst of her faults. Accord