m such a torpor; to save you from such ignominy. I wish to
restore you to the world."

"There's time enough, Adolphus; you'll see me yet the gayest of the gay
at Almack's."

"Ah! but to please me, Fanny, it must be as one of the leaders, not one
of the led."

"Oh, that'll be in years to come: in twenty years' time; when I come
forth glorious in a jewelled turban, and yards upon yards of yellow
satin--fat, fair, and forty. I've certainly no ambition to be one of
the leaders yet."

Lord Kilcullen walked on silent for a considerable time, during which
Fanny went on talking about London, Almack's, and the miserable life
of lady patronesses, till at last she also became silent, and began
thinking of Lord Ballindine. She had, some little time since, fully
made up her mind to open her heart to Lord Kilcullen about him, and she
had as fully determined not to do so after what Selina had said upon
the subject; but now she again wavered. His manner was so kind and
affectionate, his interest in her future happiness appeared to be so
true and unaffected: at any rate he would not speak harshly or cruelly
to her, if she convinced him how completely her happiness depended
on her being reconciled to Lord Ballindine. She had all but brought
herself to the point; she had almost determined to tell him everything,
when he stopped rather abruptly, and said,

"I also am leaving Grey Abbey again, Fanny."

"Leaving Grey Abbey?" said Fanny. "You told me the other day you were
going to live here,"

"So I intended; so I do intend; but still I must leave it for a while.
I'm going about business, and I don't know how long I may be away. I go
on Saturday."

"I hope, Adolphus, you haven't quarrelled with your father," said she.

"Oh, no," said he: "it is on his advice that I am going. I believe
there is no fear of our quarrelling now. I should rather say I trust
there is none. He not only approves of my going, but approves of what I
am about to do before I go."

"And what is that?"

"I had not intended, Fanny, to say what I have to say to you for some
time, for I feel that different circumstances make it premature. But I
cannot bring myself to leave you without doing so;" and again he paused
and walked on a little way in silence--"and yet," he continued, "I
hardly know how to utter what I wish to say; or rather what I would
wish to have said, were it not that I dread so much the answer you may
make me. Stop, Fanny, stop a moment; the se