and the toys. And what a very agreeable fair, where all might suit their
fancy without the permission of that sulky tyrant, a purse! All were in
excellent humour, and no false shame prevented them from plundering
the stalls. The noble proprietors set the example. Annesley offered a
bouquet of precious stones to Charlotte Bloomerly, and it was accepted,
and the Duke of St. James showered a sack of whimsical breloques among a
scrambling crowd of laughing beauties. Among them was Miss Dacre. He had
not observed her. Their eyes met, and she smiled. It seemed that he had
never felt happiness before.

Ere the humours of the fair could be exhausted they were summoned to the
margin of the river, where four painted and gilded galleys, which
might have sailed down the Cydmus, and each owning its peculiar chief,
prepared to struggle for pre-eminence in speed. All betted; and the
Duke, encouraged by the smile, hastened to Miss Dacre to try to win back
some of his Doncaster losses, but Arundel Dacre had her arm in his,
and she was evidently delighted with his discourse. His Grace's blood
turned, and he walked away.

It was sunset when they returned to the lawn, and then the ball-room
presented itself; but the twilight was long, and the night was warm;
there were no hateful dews, no odious mists, and therefore a great
number danced on the lawn. The fair was illuminated, and all the little
_marchandes_ and their lusty porters walked about in their costume.

The Duke again rallied his courage, and seeing Arundel Dacre with
Mrs. Dallington Vere, he absolutely asked Miss Dacre to dance. She was
engaged. He doubted, and walked into the house disconsolate; yet, if he
had waited one moment, he would have seen Sir Lucius Grafton rejoin
her, and lead her to the cotillon that was forming on the turf. The Duke
sauntered to Lady Aphrodite, but she would not dance; yet she did
not yield his arm, and proposed a stroll. They wandered away to the
extremity of the grounds. Fainter and fainter grew the bursts of the
revellers, yet neither of them spoke much, for both were dull.

[Illustration: page243]

Yet at length her Ladyship did speak, and amply made up for her previous
silence. All former scenes, to this, were but as the preface to the
book. All she knew and all she dreaded, all her suspicions, all her
certainties, all her fears, were poured forth in painful profusion. This
night was to decide her fate. She threw herself on his mercy, if h