"I should not wonder if she hates me," he | these young fellows seem tremendously struck said to himself. He had never thought as much about her father, but then, certainly, he had never been brought into such close contact with her father. by her. I suppose she is the prettiest girl in the room. She will make a good match, I dare say, and get out of her father's hands. It must be a dreary life for her in that cottage, with a selfish, disappointed man." He waited quietly for that appointed quadrille, declining a dance in which Lady Laura would have enlisted him, and keeping a close watch upon Clarissa during the interval. What a gay butterfly creature she seemed to-night! He could scarcely fancy this was the same girl who had spoken so mournfully of her lost home in the library that afternoon. He looked from her to his daughter for a moment, comparing the two: Sophia resplendent in pink areophane and pearls, and showing herself not above the pleas-all-she was not afraid of any accident. ures of a polka; eminently a fine young woman, but oh, of what a different clay from that other one! The night waned, and there was no George Fairfax. Lady Geraldine bore herself bravely, and danced a good deal more than she would have done had there not been appearances to be kept up. She had to answer a great many questions about her lover, and she answered all with supreme frankness. He was away in Scotland with some bachelor friends, enjoying himself, no doubt. He had promised to be with them tonight, and had broken his promise; that was Once Miss Fermor, passing the rich man on the arm of her partner, surprised the watchful gray eyes with a new look in them- -a look that was neither cold nor stern. "So, my gentleman," thought the lively Lizzie, "is it that way your fancies are drifting? It was I you suspected of dangerous designs the other day, Miss Granger. Take care your papa doesn't fall into a deeper pitfall. I should like to see him marry again, if it were only to take down that great pink creature's insolence." Whereby it will be seen that Miss Granger was not quite so popular among her contemporaries as, in the serenity of her self-possessed soul, she was wont to imagine herself. The quadrille began presently, and Clarissa walked through its serious mazes with the man whom she was apt to consider the enemy of her race. She could not help wondering a little to find l:erself in this position, and her replies to Mr. Granger's commonplace remarks were somewhat mechanical. Once he contrived to bring the conversation round to Arden Court. "It would give me so much pleasure to see you there as my daughter's guest," he said, in a warmer tone than was usual to him; “and I really think you would be interested in her parish work. She has done wonders in a small way." "I have no doubt. You are very kind," faltered Clarissa; "but I do not the least understand how to manage people as Miss Granger does, and I could not bear to come to the Court. I was so happy there with my brother; and now that he is gone, and that I am forbidden even to mention his name, the associations of the place would be too painful." "I dare say he found the first of the grouseshooting too attractive," she said, coolly. After supper, while the most determined of the waltzers were still spinning round to a brisk deux temps of Charles d'Albert's, Clarissa was fain to tell the last of her partners she could dance no more. "I am not tired of the ball," she said; "I like looking on, but I really can't dance another step. Do go and get some one else for this waltz; I know you are dying to dance it." This was to the devoted Captain Westleigh, a person with whom Miss Lovel always felt very much at home. "But "With you," he answered, tenderly. if you mean to sit down, I am at your service. I would not desert you for worlds. And you really are looking a little pale. Shall we find some pleasanter place? That inner room looks deliciously cool. He offered his arm to Clarissa, and they walked slowly away toward a small room at the end of the saloon; a room which Lady Laura had arranged with an artful eye to effect, leaving it almost in shadow. There were only a few waxcandles glimmering here and there among the cool, dark foliage of the ferns and pitcher-plants that filled every niche and corner, and the moonlight shone full into the room through a wide window that opened upon a stone balcony a few feet above the terrace. "If I am left alone with her for five minutes, I am sure I shall propose," Captain Westleigh thought, on beholding the soft, secluded aspect of this apartment, which was untenanted when he and Clarissa entered it. She sank down upon a sofa near the window, more thoroughly tired than she had confessed. This long night's dancing and excitement was quite a new thing to her. It was nearly over Mr. Granger grew suddenly grave and silent. now, and the reaction was coming, bringing with "Yes, there was that business about the it that vague sense of hopelessness and disapbrother," he thought to himself; "a bad busi-pointment which had so grown upon her of late. ness, no doubt, or the father would never have turned him out of doors-something very queer, perhaps. A strange set these Lovels, evidently. The father a spendthrift, the son perhaps something worse. And then he looked down at Clarissa, and thought again how lovely she was, and pitied her for her beauty and her helplessness-the daughter of such a father, the sister of such a brother. "But she will marry well, of course," he said to himself, just as George Fairfax had done; "all She had abandoned herself fully to the enchantment of the ball, almost losing the sense of her own identity in that brilliant scene. But selfconsciousness came back to her now, and she remembered that she was Clarissa Lovel, for whom life was at best a dreary business. "Can I get you any thing?" asked the Captain, alarmed by her pallor. "Thanks; you are very kind. If it would not be too much trouble-I know the refreshmentroom is a long way off-but I should be glad of a little water. degree. All she wanted was air, she thought, if there had been any air to be got that sultry night. She rose from the sofa presently, and went out upon the balcony. Below her was the river; not a ripple upon the water, not a breath stirring the rushes on the banks. Between the balcony and the river there was a broad battlemented walk, and in the embrasures where cannon had once been there were great stone vases of geraniums and dwarf roses, which seemed only masses of dark foliage in the moonlight. The Captain was some little time gone for that glass of water. Clarissa had forgotten him and his errand as she sat upon a bench in the balcony with her elbow leaning on the broad stone ledge, looking down at the water and thinking of her own life-thinking what it might have been if every thing in the world had been different. A sudden step on the walk below startled her, and a low voice said, "I would I were a glove upon that hand, that I might kiss that cheek." She knew the voice directly, but was not less startled at hearing it just then. The step came near her, and in the next moment a dark figure } had swung itself lightly upward from the path below, and George Fairfax was seated on the angle of the massive balustrade. Juliet!" he said, in the same low voice; "what put it into your head to play Juliet tonight? As if you were not dangerous enough without that." "Mr. Fairfax, how could you startle me so? Lady Laura has been expecting you all the evening. "I suppose so. But you don't imagine I've been hiding in the garden all the evening, like the man in Tennyson's 'Maud?' I strained heaven and earth to be here in time; but there was a breakdown between Edinburgh and Carlisle. Nothing very serious: an engine-driver knocked about a little, and a few passengers shaken and bruised more or less; but I escaped unscathed, and had to cool my impatience for half a dozen hours at a dingy little station where there was no refreshment for body or mind but a brown jug of tepid water and a big Bible. There I staid till I was picked up by the night mail, and here I am. I think I shall stand absolved by my lady when she reads the account of my perils in to-morrow's papers. People are just going away, I suppose. It would be useless for me to dress and put in an appearance now." "I think Lady Laura would be glad to see you. She has been very anxious, I know." "Her sisterly cares shall cease before she goes to sleep to-night. She shall be informed that I am in the house; and I will make my peace tomorrow morning." He did not go away, however, and Clarissa began to feel that there was something embarrassing in her position. He had stepped lightly across the balustrade, and had seated himself very near her, looking down at her face. "Clarissa, do you know what has happened to me since I have been away from this place?" "I have made a discovery-a most perplexing, "I have found out that I love you." Her hand was lying on the broad stone ledge. He took it in his firm grasp, and held it as he went on: "Yes, Clarissa; I had my doubts before I went away, but thought I was master of myself in this, as I have been in other things, and fancied myself strong enough to strangle the serpent. But it would not be strangled, Clarissa; it has wound itself about my heart, and here I sit by your side dishonored in my own sight, come what may-bound to one woman and loving another with all my soul-yes, with all my soul. What am I to do?" "Your duty," Clarissa answered, in a low, steady voice. Her heart was beating so violently that she wondered at her power to utter those two words. What was it that she felt-anger, indignation? Alas! no. Pride, delight, rapture, stirred that undisciplined heart. She knew now what was wanted to make her life bright and happy; she knew now that she had loved George Fairfax almost from the first. And her own duty-the duty she was bound in honor to perform-what was that? Upon that question she had not a moment's doubt. Her duty was to resign him without a murmur; never to let him know that he had touched her heart. Even after having done this there would be much left to her-the knowledge that he had loved her. "My duty! what is that?" he asked, in a hoarse, hard voice. "To carry out my word to Geraldine, whatsoever misery it may bring upon both of us? I am not one of those saints who think of every body's happiness before their own, Clarissa. I am very human, with all humanity's selfishness. I want to be happy. I want a wife for whom I can feel something more than a cold, well-bred liking. I did not think that it was in me to feel more than that. I thought I had outlived my capacity for loving, wasted the strength of my heart's youth on worthless fancies, spent all my patrimony of affection; but the light shines on me again, and I thank God that it is so. Yes, Clarissa, come what may, I thank my God that I am not so old a man in heart and feeling as I thought myself." Clarissa tried to stem the current of his talk, with her heart still beating stormily, but with an outward semblance of exceeding calmness. "I must not hear you talk in this wild way, Mr. Fairfax," she said. "I feel as if I had been guilty of a sin against Lady Geraldine in having listened so long. But I can not for a moment think you are in earnest.' "Do not play the Jesuit, Clarissa. You know that I am in earnest.' "Then the railway accident must have turned your brain, and I can only hope that to-morrow morning will restore your reason. "Well, I am mad, if you like-madly in love with you. What am I to do? If, with some show of decency, I can recover my liberty-by an appeal to Lady Geraldine's generosity, for instance-believe me, I shall not break her heart; our mutual regard is the calmest, coolest sentiment possible-if I can get myself free from this suppose," he went on. | engagement, will you be my wife, Clarissa ?” She looked up at him with an alarmed expression. It was the first time he had ever uttered her Christian name, but his tone was so serious as to make that a minor question. "The madness-if you are really in earnest, and not carrying on some absurd jest―is all on your side." "Well, that seems hard. I was vain enough to think otherwise. I thought so strong a feeling on one side could not coexist with perfect indifference on the other. I fancied there was something like predestination in this, and that iny wandering, unwedded soul had met its other half-it's an old Greek notion, you know, that men and women were made in pairs-but I was miserably mistaken, I suppose. How many lovers have you rejected since you left school, Miss Lovel?" he asked, with a short, bitter laugh. "Geraldine herself could not have given me my quietus more coldly." He was evidently wounded to the quick, being a creature spoiled by easy conquests, and would have gone on, perhaps, in the same angry strain, but there was a light step on the floor within, and Lady Laura Armstrong came quickly toward the balcony. "My dearest Clary, Captain Westleigh tells me that you are quite knocked up-" she began; and then, recognizing the belated traveler, cried out, "George Fairfax! Is it possible?" "George Fairfax, my dear Lady Laura, and not quite so base a delinquent as he seems. I must plead guilty to pushing matters to the last limit; but I made my plans to be here at seven o'clock this evening, and should inevitably have arrived at that hour but for a smash between Edinburgh and Carlisle." "An accident! Were you hurt?" "Not so much as shaken; but the breakdown lost me half a dozen hours. We were stuck for no end of time at a dingy little station whose name forget, and when I did reach Carlisle it was too late for any train to bring me on except the night mail, which does not stop at Holborough. I had to post from York, and arrived about ten minutes ago-too late for any thing except to prove to you that I did make heroic efforts to keep my word." "And how, in goodness name, did you get here, to this room, without my seeing you?" "From the garden. Finding myself too late to make an appearance in the ball-room, I prowled round the premises, listening to the sounds of revelry within; and then seeing Miss Lovel alone here-playing Juliet without a Romeo-I made so bold as to accost her, and charge her with a message for you." "You are amazingly considerate; but I really can not forgive you for having deferred your return to the last moment. You have quite spoiled Geraldine's evening, to say nothing of the odd look your absence must have to our friends. I shall tell her you have arrived, and I suppose that is all I can do. You must want some supper, by-the-bye. You'll find plenty of people in the dining-room." "No, thanks; I had some cold chicken and coffee at Carlisle. I'll ring for a soda-and-brandy when I get to my own room, and that's all I shall do to-night. Good-night, Lady Laura-goodnight, Miss Lovel." He dropped lightly across the balcony and vanished. Lady Laura stood in the window for a few moments in a meditative mood, and then, |looking up suddenly, said: "Oh, by-the-bye, Clarissa, I came to fetch you for another dance, the last quadrille, if you feel well enough to dance it. Mr. Granger wants you for a partner." "I don't think I can dance any more, Lady Laura. I refused Captain Westleigh the last waltz.' "Yes, but a quadrille is different. However, if you are really tired, I must tell Mr. Granger so. What was George Fairfax saying to you just now? You both looked prodigiously serious. "I really don't know-I forget-it was nothing very particular," Clarissa answered, conscious that she was blushing, and confused by that consciousness. Lady Laura looked at her with a sharp, scrutinizing glance. "I think it would have been better taste on George's part if he had taken care to relieve my sister's anxiety directly he arrived, instead of acting the balcony scene in Romeo and Juliet.' I must go back to Mr. Granger with your refusal, Clarissa. Oh, here comes Captain Westleigh with some water. The Captain did appear at this very moment carrying a glass of that beverage, much to Clarissa's relief, for a tête-à-tête with Lady Laura was very embarrassing to her just now. "My dear Miss Lovel, you must think me an utter barbarian," exclaimed the Captain; "but you really can't conceive the difficulties I've had to overcome. It seemed as if there wasn't a drop of iced water to be had in the Castle. If you wanted Strasburg pies or barley-sugar temples, I could have brought you them by cartloads. Moselle and maraschino are the merest drugs in the market; but not a creature could I persuade to get me this glass of water. Of course the fellows all said, 'Yes, Sir;' and then went off and forgot all about me. And even when I had got my prize I was waylaid by thirsty dowagers, who wanted to rob me of it. It was like searching for the Northwest Passage.' Lady Laura had departed by this time. Clarissa drank some of the water, and took the Captain's arm to return to the ball-room, which was beginning to look a little empty. On the threshold of the great saloon they met Mr. Granger. "I am so sorry to hear you are not well, Miss Lovel,” he said. "Thank you, Mr. Granger, but I am really not ill-only too tired to dance any more." "So Lady Laura tells me-very much to my regret. I had hoped for the honor of dancing this quadrille with you.' "If you knew how rarely Mr. Granger dances, you'd consider yourself rather distinguished, I think, Miss Lovel," said the Captain, laughing. "Well, no, I don't often dance," replied Mr. Granger, with a shade of confusion in his manner; "but really such a ball as this quite inspires a man-and Lady Laura was good enough to wish me to dance." "Well, no, one does not think of time upon such | Granger gave a great yawn, and, as the rooms an occasion as this. I suppose it is late; but it by this time were almost empty, made his way to would not do for us of the household to desert Lady Laura in order to offer his congratulations before the rest of the company." upon her triumph before retiring to rest. 66 "I was thinking of saying good-night," answered Miss Granger. "I don't suppose any one would miss me, or you either, papa, if we slipped away quietly; and I am sure you will have one of your headaches to-morrow morning." There is no weapon so useful in the hands of a dutiful child as some chronic complaint of its parent. A certain nervous headache from which Mr. Granger suffered now and then served the fair Sophia as a kind of rod for his correction on occasions. "I am not tired, my dear." "Oh, papa, I know your constitution better than you do yourself. Poor Lady Laura, how worn out she must be!" "Lady Laura has been doing wonders all the evening," said Captain Westleigh. "She has been as ubiquitous as Richmond at Bosworth, and she has the talent of never seeming tired." Clarissa took the first opportunity of saying good-night. If so important a person as the heiress of Arden Court could depart and not leave a void in the assembly, there could be assuredly no fear that she would be missed. Mr. Granger shook hands with her for the first time in his life as he wished her good-night, and then stood in the door-way watching her receding figure till it was beyond his ken. "I like your friend Miss Lovel, Sophia," he said to his daughter, presently. For once in a way, the vivacious châtelaine of Hale Castle was almost cross. "Do you really think the ball has gone off well?" she asked, incredulously. "It seems to me to have been an elaborate failure." She was thinking of those two whom she had surprised tête-à-tête in the balcony, and wondering what George Fairfax could have been saying to produce Clarissa's confusion. Clarissa was her protégée, and she was responsible to her sister Geraldine for any mischief brought about by her favorite. CHAPTER XIV. THE MORNING AFTER. THE day after the ball was a broken, straggling kind of day, after the usual manner of the to-morrow that succeeds a festival. Hale Castle was full to overflowing with guests who, having been invited to spend one night, were pressed to stay longer. The men spent their afternoon for the most part in the billiard-room, after a late, lingering luncheon, at which there was a good deal of pleasant gossip. The women sat together in groups in the drawing-room, pretending to work, but all desperately idle. It was a fine afternoon, but no one cared for walking or driving. A few youthful enthusiasts did, indeed, get up a game at croquet, but even this soul-enthralling sport was pursued with a certain list "Miss Lovel is hardly a friend of mine, papa," replied that young lady, somewhat sharply."I am not in the habit of making sudden friend-lessness. ships, and I have not known Miss Lovel a week. Besides which, she is not the kind of girl I care the garden, the lady looking superbly handsome for." 66 'Why not?" asked her father, bluntly. "One can scarcely explain that kind of thing. She is too frivolous for me to get on very well with her. She takes no real interest in my poor, in spite of her connection with Arden, or in church music. I think she hardly knows one Te Deum from another." "She is rather a nice girl, though," said the Captain, who would fain be loyal to Clarissa, yet for whom the good opinion of such an heiress as Miss Granger could not be a matter of indifference there was always the chance that she night take a fancy to him, as he put it to his brother officers, and what a lucky hit that would be! "She's a nice girl," he repeated, "and uncommonly pretty." "I was not discussing her looks, Captain Westleigh," replied Miss Granger, with some asperity; "I was talking of her ideas and tastes, which are quite different from mine. I am sorry you let Lady Laura persuade you to dance with a girl like that, papa. You may have offended old friends, who would fancy they had a prior claim on your attention. Mr. Granger laughed at this reproof. "I didn't think a quadrille was such a serious matter, Sophy," he said. "And then, you see, when a man of my age does make a fool of himself, he likes to have the prettiest girl in the room for his partner. Miss Granger made an involuntary wry face, as if she had been eating something nasty. Mr. Mr. Fairfax and Lady Geraldine walked in in a dark blue velvet hat and jacket, trimmed with some pale silvery fur. To all appearance a perfect harmony prevailed between them. Clarissa, sitting alone in an oriel at the end of the drawing-room, watched them with weary eyes and a dull load at her heart, wondering about them perpetually, with a new pain mixed with her wonder. If she could only have gone home, she thought to herself, what a refuge the dull quiet of her lonely life would have been! She had not slept five minutes since the festival of last night, but had lain, tossing wearily from side to side, thinking of what George Fairfax had said to herthinking of what might have been and could never be, and then praying that she might do her duty-that she might have strength to keep firmly to the right if he should try to tempt her again. He would scarcely do that, she thought. That wild, desperate talk of last night was perhaps the merest folly-a caprice of the moment, the shallowest rodomontade, which he would be angry with himself for having spoken. She told herself that this was so; but she knew now, as she had not known before last night, that she had given this man her heart. It would be a hard thing to remain at Hale to perform her part in the grand ceremonial of the marriage, and yet keep her guilty secret hidden from every eye; above all, from his whom it most concerned. But there seemed no possibility of escape from this ordeal, unless she were |