he direction of the house. He has hardly, however, gone
two hundred yards, when the voice of his uncle, Lord Sartoris, calling
to him through the gloom, stays his steps, and rouses him from the
painful revery into which he is fast falling.

"Who were you parting with at the gate?" asks Lord Sartoris, in so
unusual a tone that Dorian looks at him in some surprise. He is a
little sorry, for reasons that do not touch himself, that the question
should have been asked at all.

"Ruth Annersley," he answers, without hesitation, feeling that any
prevarication at this moment will only make matters worse for the
unhappy girl. May not Arthur have seen and known her?

"Ruth Annersley?"

"Yes. You will, of course, say nothing about it. She was foolish
enough to wish to see a few people dancing, so came here, and,
standing among the shrubs, obtained her wish,--which, no doubt, proved
as satisfactory as most of our desires, when gained."

"At this hour of the night to be here, alone!"

"Yes. Very imprudent of her, of course, and all that."

"There must have been some strong inducement to make a girl of her
gentle nature undertake so bold, so daring, a step. It was a strictly
improper action," says the old man, in his most stilted style.

"I dare say. Imprudent, however, was the word I used. I am rather glad
I was the one to meet her, as she knew me; and, as a rule, people talk
so much about nothing, and make such mountains out of mole-hills."

"It was fortunate, indeed, your meeting her. It might, in fact, almost
be termed a curious coincidence, your managing to be on this deserted
walk just at the required moment."

There is something so unpleasant, so sneering, about his tone that
Dorian colors hotly.

"I confess I hardly see it in the light you do," he says, easily
enough, but very coldly. "And I think I should term the coincidence
'lucky,' rather than curious. I see no difference between this walk
and half a dozen others. People don't seem to affect any of them
much."

"No," says Lord Sartoris.

"Any other fellow might have been here as well as me. You, for
example."

"Just so!" says Lord Sartoris.

"Then why bring in the word curious?"

"It merely occurred to me at the moment," says his lordship, drily.
"Been dancing much?"

"Yes,--no,--pretty well. Are you coming in?"

They are again in front of the house, and near the steps that lead to
the conservatory.

"Not just yet, I think."

"Then I fear I must