han pleased, they begged him not to be too
sanguine.

"Sanguine!" he exclaimed, colouring. "I live in a state of mortal fear
and dread; for though I love her more every time I see her, I never
leave her without feeling that my case is hopeless. There is something
about Ida--oh, of course I can't explain!--but I feel as if I could no
more speak to her of love than I could--could jump over this house."

"And yet she is so gentle and friendly," said Lady Bannerdale to
encourage him.

The young fellow, wise in his generation, shook his head.

"That's just it, mother," he said, gravely. "She treats me as if I were
a brother, quite a young brother; and I know that if I were to speak to
her, to let her know how much I love her, it would mean the end of
everything. I should never be able to see her again--and I could not
stand that; for I am only happy when I am with her--and then I am
miserable with the thought of having to leave her."

"You must be patient, my dear fellow," said Lord Bannerdale. "Ida Heron
is a girl in a million, and she is worth waiting for."

"Oh, I'll wait," said Lord Edwin; "but sometimes I feel that all the
waiting in the world won't win her," he added, with a sigh.

One day--it was in the Christmas week which Ida had been prevailed upon
to spend with the Bannerdales--Lord Bannerdale came in at luncheon-time
with some news.

"I hear the Villa is to be occupied at Christmas," he said. "Mr.
Falconer and his daughter are coming down to-day."

"Is there to be a house-party?" said Lady Bannerdale. "But I suppose
not. No, there could not be, under the circumstances. Poor girl! Sir
Stephen's death--I never can remember that he was Lord Highcliffe!
--must have been a great grief and shock to her. She and her
father will naturally wish to be quiet; but I suppose we ought to call.
You have never seen her, I think, Ida?"

"No," said Ida, in the impassive, reticent way in which she always
spoke and looked when on guard.

"An extremely beautiful woman," said Lady Bannerdale; "but she always
struck me as being a remarkably cold one; though, of course, it may
have only been manner. The present Lord Highcliffe, Sir Stephen's son,
has been away some time now. I suppose he will come back soon, and they
will be married. They will make a very handsome couple. You would like
him, Edwin. I took a great fancy to him on the few occasions I met him;
and I felt deeply sorry for his misfortunes. But there will be no l