cure pretender, Morton, he was
degraded far beneath her. In his proper person, he could surmount all
obstacles to obtain her. Could he? What, then, became of his vow?

That very pledge he had given in exchange for permission to wear the
detested mask. What a web he had spun around himself! And should he
break it at once? Should he dash boldly into the world in his own
name, sweep impediments from before him, woo Mildred in spite of
everything, and bear her off to his ancestral towers, ay, in defiance
of her haughty mother? Would it not be a revenge acceptable to the
shade of his broken-hearted father?

His wavering irresolution made him fretful, and almost morose. It
caused also a strange craving for excitement. He became impatient of
his quiet evenings at Hampstead. It was ungrateful, but he could not
help it. Helen saw his irritation with sorrow, but without complaint.
Rereworth saw it, and tried vainly to soothe it. He had frequently
pressed Randolph to accompany him into society; he prevailed on him to
acquire the accomplishments of life, and thereby provided a
considerable source of amusement for Mr. Peach, who frequently
inquired concerning his lodger's progress in the airs and graces.

"My dancing!" Randolph might exclaim in answer to such queries; "it
prospers marvellously. Yet methinks it is a ridiculous occupation."

"By no means, my dear sir," would be the reply. "Hath not the
'Spectator' observed, that 'no one was ever a good dancer that had not
a good understanding?' Ah! I see why you smile; but that's not the
meaning."

But hitherto Rereworth had been unable to persuade his friend to avail
himself of his new acquirements. Trevethlan's secret held him back. It
met him at every turn. But now, in his eagerness to forget himself, he
at last consented to go with Seymour to an assembly at the house of a
near relation, where, Rereworth said, his friends were always
welcome. The evening arrived, and Randolph joined his introducer at
his chambers.

"You may call yourself a happy man, Morton," cried Rereworth gaily.
"You shall be the envy of all our sex, for my fair cousin's sister is
the loveliest girl in London, and I have made her promise to be
disengaged to dance with you. I told her you were a very good-looking
fellow."

"That is not a good introduction," Randolph said, with a faint smile.
"But you sacrifice yourself."

"Never fear, you won't disappoint her," Seymour continued. "And as for
me, I have