and the torture grew more and more hard to
bear, as the leaden hours passed.

At the dinner-hour Graves appeared.

"Have you brought it--the letter?"

"No; I've brought a message from her ladyship--that Sir Maxwell Danby is
below, and dines here; and you are to go downstairs."

"I will _not_ go downstairs--I will not see him," Griselda said
passionately. "Say, Graves, please, that I am unwell, and desire to
remain in my room."

"My poor child!--my poor child!" Graves said. "I think you had best
go--I do, indeed!"

"You would not say so if you knew. _No_; I will not go. Make my
apologies, and say what is true-that I am not well. But, Graves, that
letter--_did_ you send it?"

"I have told you so, Miss Griselda. I speak the truth, as you ought to
know."

"Did David take it?"

And now Graves hesitated a little:

"I gave it to his care as soon as I went down this morning; but----"

"But what?"

"The gentleman has been here, and David was ordered to refuse him
admittance. I must take your message; there's the bell ringing again."

Griselda stood where Graves left her, her hands clasped together, and
exclaimed:

"What shall I do?--wait till he writes? He will surely write! Oh, that I
had someone to consult! Shall I leave the house?--shall I go to Mrs.
Travers? No; I would not force myself on her--or anyone. I must wait.
Surely my poor little rhymes were prophetic! Waiting and watching----"

Again Graves appeared with a tray, on which was Griselda's dinner. A
little three-cornered note lay on the napkin.

Griselda snatched it up, and read, in Lady Betty's thin, straggling,
pointed handwriting:

"Do not atempt to shew your face, miss, till you have made a
propar apollgey, and have declared your readynes to meet the
gentleman who has done you the honour of adressing you.

"B. L."

Lady Betty's spelling was, to say the least of it, eccentric; and
Griselda smiled as she crumpled up the note and tossed it into the fire.

"Very well, I am a prisoner then till my true knight comes to set me
free. Make my compliments to her ladyship, and say, Graves, that I am
obedient to her orders, and have no intention of showing my face."

"My dear," Graves said, "pray to the Lord to help you; you will need His
help."

"What do you mean? Speak out, Graves."

But again Graves left the room, murmuring to herself:

"I have not the heart to tell her, yet she must surely know; she must be
told."