young fellows. He smiled a good deal. He was not aware that a smile did
not quite become him. The fact is, he had lost a good many side teeth,
and it was a hollow and sinister disclosure. He would laugh, too,
occasionally; but his laugh was not rich and joyous, like General
Chattesworth's, or even Tom Toole's cozy chuckle, or old Doctor
Walsingham's hilarious ha-ha-ha! He did not know it; but there was a
cold hard ring in it, like the crash and jingle of broken glass. Then
his spectacles, shining like ice in the light, never removed for a
moment--never even pushed up to his forehead--he eat in them, drank in
them, fished in them, joked in them--he prayed in them, and, no doubt,
slept in them, and would, it was believed, be buried in them--heightened
that sense of mystery and mask which seemed to challenge curiosity and
defy scrutiny with a scornful chuckle.

In the meantime, the mirth, and frolic, and flirtation were drawing to a
close. The dowager, in high good humour, was conveyed down stairs to her
carriage, by Colonel Stafford and Lord Castlemallard, and rolled away,
with blazing flambeaux, like a meteor, into town. There was a
breaking-up and leave-taking, and parting jokes on the door-steps; and
as the ladies, old and young, were popping on their mantles in the
little room off the hall, and Aunt Becky and Mrs. Colonel Strafford were
exchanging a little bit of eager farewell gossip beside the cabinet,
Gertrude Chattesworth--by some chance she and Lilias had not had an
opportunity of speaking that evening--drew close to her, and she took
her hand and said 'Good-night, dear Lily,' and glanced over her
shoulder, still holding Lily's hand; and she looked very pale and
earnest, and said quickly, in a whisper:

'Lily, darling, if you knew what I could tell you, if I dare, about Mr.
Mervyn, you would cut your hand off rather than allow him to talk to
you, as, I confess, he _has_ talked to me, as an admirer, and knowing
what I know, and with my eye upon him--Lily--_Lily_--I've been amazed by
him to-night. I can only _warn_ you now, darling, to beware of a great
danger.'

''Tis no danger, however, to me, Gertrude, dear,' said Lily, with a
pleasant little smile. 'And though he's handsome, there's something, is
there not, _funeste_ in his deep eyes and black hair; and the dear old
man knows something strange about him, too; I suppose 'tis all the same
story.'

'And he has not told you,' said Gertrude, looking down with a