over her. She pushed
aside the curtain, and called to him in a sharp tone of terror.

"Lionel!"

He turned back. He drew the curtain entirely away, and stood by her
side. She caught his arm, clasping it convulsively.

"Is it a dreadful dream, or is it true?" she uttered, beginning to
tremble. "Oh, Lionel, take care of me! Won't you take care of me?"

"I will take care of you as long as I may," he whispered tenderly.

"You will not let him force me away from you? You will not give up
Verner's Pride? If you care for me, you will not."

"I do care for you," he gently said, avoiding a more direct answer. "My
whole life is occupied in caring for you, in promoting your happiness
and comfort. How I _have_ cared for you, you alone know."

She burst into tears. Lionel bent his lips upon her hot face. "Depend
upon my doing all that I can do," he said.

"Are you going to leave me by myself?" she resumed in fear, as he was
turning to quit the room. "How do I know but he may be bursting in upon
me?"

"Is that all your faith in me, Sibylla? He shall not intrude upon you
here; he shall not intrude upon you anywhere without warning. When he
does come, I shall be at your side."

Lionel joined his guests at breakfast. His wife did not. With smiling
lips and bland brow, he had to cover a mind full of intolerable
suspense, an aching heart. A minor puzzle--though nothing compared to
the puzzle touching the movements of Frederick Massingbird--was working
within him, as to the movements of Captain Cannonby. What could have
become of that gentleman? Where could he be halting on his journey? Had
his halt anything to do with them, with this grievous business?

To Lionel's great surprise, just as they were concluding breakfast, he
saw the close carriage driven to the door, attended by Wigham and
Bennet. You may remember the latter name. Master Dan Duff had called him
"Calves" to Mr. Verner. If Verner's Pride could not keep its masters, it
kept its servants. Lionel knew he had not ordered it; and he supposed
his wife to be still in bed. He went out to the men.

"For whom is the carriage ordered, Bennet?"

"For my mistress, I think, sir."

And at that moment Lionel heard the steps of his wife upon the stairs.
She was coming down, dressed. He turned in, and met her in the hall.
"Are you going out?" he cried, his voice betokening surprise.

"I can't be worried with this uncertainty," was Sibylla's answer, spoken
anything but courte