Louise this very night. An earl's daughter--though a bankrupt--is a
fitting mate for a Kingsland."

Lady Louise sat at the piano, the soft light falling full on her pale,
statuesque face, and making an aureole around her fair, shapely head.

Sir Everard Kingsland crossed over and stood beside her, and Lord and
Lady Carteret exchanged significant glances, and smiled.

It was a very desirable thing, indeed; they had brought Louise down for
no other earthly reason; and Louise was playing her cards, and playing
them well.

If Sir Everard had one taste stronger than another it was his taste for
music, and Lady Louise held him spell-bound now. She played, and her
fingers seemed inspired; she sung, and few non-professionals sung like
that.

The chain of brittle glass that bound the captive beside her grew
stronger. A wife who could bewitch the hours away with such music as
this would be no undesirable possession for a _blase_ man. He stooped
over her as she arose from the piano at last.

"Come out on the balcony," he said. "The night is lovely, and the good
people yonder are altogether engrossed in their cards and their
small-talk."

Without a word she stepped with him from the open French window out
into the starlit night.

What is it that Byron says about solitude, and moonlight, and youth? A
dangerous combination, truly; and so Sir Everard Kingsland found,
standing side by side with this pale daughter of a hundred earls. But
the irrevocable words were not destined to be spoken, for just then
George Grosvenor, goaded to jealous desperation, stalked out through
the open casement and joined them.

The midnight moon was sailing up to the zenith as Sir Everard rode
home. His road was a lonely one through Brithlow Wood, which shortened
his journey by over a mile; but his thoughts were pleasant ones, and he
hummed, as he rode, the songs Lady Louise had sung.

"Confound that muff, Grosvenor!" he thought. "If it had not been for
his impertinent intrusion, the matter would have been safely settled by
this time--and settled pleasantly too, I take it; for, without being a
conceited noodle, I really think Lady Louise will say yes. Ah! what's
this?"

For out of the starlit darkness, from among the trees, started up a
giant black figure, and his horse was grasped by the bridle and hurled
back upon his haunches.

"You villain," the young man dauntlessly cried, "let go my bridle-rein!
Who are you? What do you wan