, do you say? Does she not love you, then?"

"At least, she has not written to me since my departure, although she
used occasionally to write to me before. I trust she may have been
prevented."

"Hush! the duke is here."

And Buckingham at that moment was seen at the end of the walk,
approaching toward them, alone and smiling; he advanced slowly, and held
out his hands to them both. "Have you arrived at an understanding?" he
said.

"About what?"

"About whatever might render you happy, dear Mary, and make Raoul less
miserable."

"I do not understand you, my lord," said Raoul.

"That is my view of the subject, Miss Mary: do you wish me to mention it
before M. de Bragelonne?" he added with a smile.

"If you mean," replied the young girl, haughtily, "that I was not
indisposed to love M. de Bragelonne, that is useless, for I have told
him so myself."

Buckingham reflected for a moment, and, without seeming in any way
discountenanced, as she expected, he said: "My reason for leaving you
with M. de Bragelonne was, that I thoroughly knew your refined delicacy
of feeling, no less than the perfect loyalty of your mind and heart, and
I hoped that M. de Bragelonne's cure might be effected by the hands of a
physician such as you are."

"But, my lord, before you spoke of M. de Bragelonne's heart, you spoke
to me of your own. Do you mean me to effect the cure of two hearts at
the same time?"

"Perfectly true, madame: but you will do me the justice to admit that I
have long discontinued a useless pursuit, acknowledging that my own
wound is incurable."

"My lord," said Mary, collecting herself for a moment before she spoke,
"M. de Bragelonne is happy, for he loves and is beloved. He has no need
of such a physician as I can be."

"M. de Bragelonne," said Buckingham, "is on the very eve of experiencing
a serious misfortune, and he has greater need than ever of sympathy and
affection."

"Explain yourself, my lord," inquired Raoul anxiously.

"No; gradually I will explain myself; but, if you desire it, I can tell
Miss Grafton what you may not listen to yourself."

"My lord, you are putting me to the torture; you know something you wish
to conceal from me?"

"I know that Miss Mary Grafton is the most charming object that a heart
ill at ease could, possibly meet with in its way through life."

"I have already told you that the Vicomte de Bragelonne loves
elsewhere," said the young girl.

"He is wrong, then."

"Do