ous words: 'I thus was reduced to great
distress, and vainly cast about me for directions what to do,' Lord
Mountclere's manner became so excited and anxious that it acted
reciprocally upon Ethelberta; her voice trembled, she moved her lips but
uttered nothing. To bring the story up to the date of that very evening
had been her intent, but it was beyond her power. The spell was broken;
she blushed with distress and turned away, for the folly of a disclosure
here was but too apparent.

Though every one saw that she had broken down, none of them appeared to
know the reason why, or to have the clue to her performance. Fortunately
Lord Mountclere came to her aid.

'Let the first part end here,' he said, rising and approaching her. 'We
have been well entertained so far. I could scarcely believe that the
story I was listening to was utterly an invention, so vividly does Mrs.
Petherwin bring the scenes before our eyes. She must now be exhausted;
we will have the remainder to-morrow.'

They all agreed that this was well, and soon after fell into groups, and
dispersed about the rooms. When everybody's attention was thus occupied
Lord Mountclere whispered to Ethelberta tremulously, 'Don't tell more:
you think too much of them: they are no better than you! Will you meet
me in the little winter garden two minutes hence? Pass through that
door, and along the glass passage.' He himself left the room by an
opposite door.

She had not set three steps in the warm snug octagon of glass and plants
when he appeared on the other side.

'You knew it all before!' she said, looking keenly at him. 'Who told
you, and how long have you known it?'

'Before yesterday or last week,' said Lord Mountclere. 'Even before we
met in France. Why are you so surprised?'

Ethelberta had been surprised, and very greatly, to find him, as it were,
secreted in the very rear of her position. That nothing she could tell
was new to him was a good deal to think of, but it was little beside the
recollection that he had actually made his first declaration in the face
of that knowledge of her which she had supposed so fatal to all her
matrimonial ambitions.

'And now only one point remains to be settled,' he said, taking her hand.
'You promised at Rouen that at our next interview you would honour me
with a decisive reply--one to make me happy for ever.'

'But my father and friends?' said she.

'Are nothing to be concerned about. Modern develop