sed, though she could not have
told why.

"Sir Philip has been looking everywhere for you," continued Sir Francis
amicably. "And for you also," he added, turning slightly to Lorimer. "I
trust I've not abruptly broken off a pleasant _tete-a-tete_?"

Lorimer colored hotly. "Not at all," he said rather brusquely. "I've
been strumming on the organ, and Lady Errington has been good enough to
listen to me."

"You do not _strum_" said Thelma, with gentle reproach. "You play very
beautifully."

"Ah! a charming accomplishment!" observed Sir Francis, with his
under-glance and covert smile, as they all three wended their way out of
the library. "I regret I have never had time to devote myself to
acquiring some knowledge of the arts. In music I am a positive
ignoramus! I can hold my own best in the field."

"Yes, you're a great adept at hunting, Lennox," remarked Lorimer
suddenly, with something sarcastic in his tone. "I suppose the quarry
never escapes you?"

"Seldom!" returned Sir Francis coolly. "Indeed, I think I may say,
never!"

And with that, he passed into the supper-room, elbowing a way for
Thelma, till he succeeded in placing her near the head of the table,
where she was soon busily occupied in entertaining her guests and
listening to their chatter; and Lorimer, looking at her once or twice,
saw, to his great relief, that all traces of her former agitation had
disappeared, leaving her face fair and radiant as a spring morning.

CHAPTER XXIV.

"A generous fierceness dwells with innocence,
And conscious virtue is allowed some pride."
DRYDEN.

The melancholy days of autumn came on apace, and by-and-by the Manor was
deserted. The Bruce-Errington establishment removed again to town, where
business, connected with his intending membership for Parliament,
occupied Sir Philip from morning till night. The old insidious feeling
of depression returned and hovered over Thelma's mind like a black bird
of ill omen, and though she did her best to shake it off she could not
succeed. People began to notice her deepening seriousness and the
wistful melancholy of her blue eyes, and made their remarks thereon when
they saw her at Marcia Van Clupp's wedding, an event which came off
brilliantly at the commencement of November, and which was almost
entirely presided over by Mrs. Rush-Marvelle. That far-seeing matron had
indeed urged on the wedding by every