of success, and as keen and
cruel as if you would drain her heart's blood! But if I were you, I
wouldn't beat her, for very fear: she'll hate you if you do--she will, by
heaven! I see it in her eye.'

'Hold your tongue, will you?' said I: his talk distracted me, for I was
driven to extremities. A few more moves, and I was inextricably
entangled in the snare of my antagonist.

'Check,' cried he: I sought in agony some means of escape. 'Mate!' he
added, quietly, but with evident delight. He had suspended the utterance
of that last fatal syllable the better to enjoy my dismay. I was
foolishly disconcerted by the event. Hattersley laughed; Milicent was
troubled to see me so disturbed. Hargrave placed his hand on mine that
rested on the table, and squeezing it with a firm but gentle pressure,
murmured, 'Beaten, beaten!' and gazed into my face with a look where
exultation was blended with an expression of ardour and tenderness yet
more insulting.

'No, never, Mr. Hargrave!' exclaimed I, quickly withdrawing my hand.

'Do you deny?' replied he, smilingly pointing to the board. 'No, no,' I
answered, recollecting how strange my conduct must appear: 'you have
beaten me in that game.'

'Will you try another, then?'

'No.'

'You acknowledge my superiority?'

'Yes, as a chess-player.'

I rose to resume my work.

'Where is Annabella?' said Hargrave, gravely, after glancing round the
room.

'Gone out with Lord Lowborough,' answered I, for he looked at me for a
reply.

'And not yet returned!' he said, seriously.

'I suppose not.'

'Where is Huntingdon?' looking round again.

'Gone out with Grimsby, as you know,' said Hattersley, suppressing a
laugh, which broke forth as he concluded the sentence. Why did he laugh?
Why did Hargrave connect them thus together? Was it true, then? And was
this the dreadful secret he had wished to reveal to me? I must know, and
that quickly. I instantly rose and left the room to go in search of
Rachel and demand an explanation of her words; but Mr. Hargrave followed
me into the anteroom, and before I could open its outer door, gently laid
his hand upon the lock. 'May I tell you something, Mrs. Huntingdon?'
said he, in a subdued tone, with serious, downcast eyes.

'If it be anything worth hearing,' replied I, struggling to be composed,
for I trembled in every limb.

He quietly pushed a chair towards me. I merely leant my hand upon it,
and bid him go on.

'Do not be a