can hardly ruffle well. Do not
imagine that the Countess's love for her brother was hollow. She was
assured when she came up to the spot where he fell, that there was no
danger; he had but dislocated his shoulder, and bruised his head a
little. Hearing this, she rose out of her clamorous heart, and seized the
opportunity for a small burst of melodrama. Unhappily, Lady Jocelyn, who
gave the tone to the rest, was a Spartan in matters of this sort; and as
she would have seen those dearest to her bear the luck of the field, she
could see others. When the call for active help reached her, you beheld a
different woman.

The demonstrativeness the Countess thirsted for was afforded her by Juley
Bonner, and in a measure by her sister Caroline, who loved Evan
passionately. The latter was in riding attire, about to mount to ride and
meet them, accompanied by the Duke. Caroline had hastily tied up her
hair; a rich golden brown lump of it hung round her cheek; her limpid
eyes and anxiously-nerved brows impressed the Countess wonderfully as she
ran down the steps and bent her fine well-filled bust forward to ask the
first hurried question.

The Countess patted her shoulder. 'Safe, dear,' she said aloud, as one
who would not make much of it. And in a whisper, 'You look superb.'

I must charge it to Caroline's beauty under the ducal radiance, that a
stream of sweet feelings entering into the Countess made her forget to
tell her sister that George Uplift was by. Caroline had not been abroad,
and her skin was not olive-hued; she was a beauty, and a majestic figure,
little altered since the day when the wooden marine marched her out of
Lymport.

The Countess stepped from the carriage to go and cherish Juliana's
petulant distress; for that unhealthy little body was stamping with
impatience to have the story told to her, to burst into fits of pathos;
and while Seymour and Harry assisted Evan to descend, trying to laugh off
the pain he endured, Caroline stood by, soothing him with words and
tender looks.

Lady Jocelyn passed him, and took his hand, saying, 'Not killed this
time!'

'At your ladyship's service to-morrow,' he replied, and his hand was
kindly squeezed.

'My darling Evan, you will not ride again?' Caroline cried, kissing him
on the steps; and the Duke watched the operation, and the Countess
observed the Duke.

That Providence should select her sweetest moments to deal her wounds,
was cruel; but the Countess just then