rrow?"

"No," said Flora, sadly, "it would be a presumption indeed in me, to
affect the consoler's part; but"--(her lips quivered)--"but if I may
judge by his letter, I may never see him again."

"His letter! He has written to you, then, as well as to your father?"

"Yes," said Flora, confused and colouring, "a few lines in answer to
a silly note of mine; yes, tell him that I shall never forget his kind
counsels, his delicate, indulgent construction of--of--in short, tell
him my father is right, and that I shall be better and wiser all my life
for the few short weeks in which I have known Guy Darrell."

"What secrets are you two whispering there?" asked Mr. Vyvyan from his
easy-chair.

"Ask her ten years hence," said the Colonel, as he retreated to the
door. "The fairest leaves in the flower are the last that the bud will
disclose."

From Mr. Vyvyan the Colonel went to Lord -----'s. His lordship had also
heard from Darrell that morning; Darrell declined the invitation to
----Hall; business at Fawley. Lady Adela had borne the disappointment
with her wonted serenity of temper, and had gone out shopping. Darrell
had certainly not offered his hand in that quarter; had he done
so--whether refused or accepted--all persons yet left in London would
have heard the news. Thence the Colonel repaired to Carr Vipont's. Lady
Selina was at home and exceedingly cross. Carr had been astonished by a
letter from Mr. Darrell, dated Fawley--left town for the season without
even calling to take leave--a most eccentric man. She feared his
head was a little touched--that he knew it, but did not like to own
it--perhaps the doctors had told him he must keep quiet, and not excite
himself with politics. "I had thought," said Lady Selina, "that he
might have felt a growing attachment for Honoria; and considering the
disparity of years, and that Honoria certainly might marry any one,
he was too proud to incur the risk of refusal. But I will tell you
in confidence, as a relation and dear friend, that Honoria has a
very superior mind, and might have overlooked the mere age: congenial
tastes--you understand. But on thinking it all over, I begin to doubt
whether that be the true reason for his running away in this wild sort
of manner. My maid tells me that his house-steward called to say that
the establishment was to be broken up. That looks as if he had resigned
London for good; just, too, when, Carr says, the CRISIS, so long put
off, is sure to