t a precipitate retreat,
fearing that they may be seen. One is Sir Adrian, the other Mrs. Talbot.

"Dear me," stammers Dora, in pretty confusion, "who would have thought
it? I was never so amazed in my life."

Sir Adrian, who has turned very pale, and is looking greatly distressed,
makes no reply. He is repeating over and over again to himself the words
he has just heard, as though unable or unwilling to comprehend them. "I
care nothing for Sir Adrian!" They strike like a knell upon his ears--a
death-knell to all his dearest hopes. And that fellow on his knees
before her, kissing her hand, and telling her he will still hope! Hope
for what? Alas, he tells himself, he knows only too well--her love!

"I am so glad they have made it up," Dora goes on, looking up
sympathetically at Sir Adrian.

"Made it up? I had no idea they were more than ordinary and very new
acquaintances."

"It is quite a year since we first met Arthur in Switzerland," responds
Dora demurely, calling Dynecourt by his Christian name, a thing she has
never done before, because she knows it will give Sir Adrian the
impression that they are on very intimate terms with his cousin. "He has
been our shadow ever since. I wonder you did not notice his devotion in
town."

"I noticed nothing," says Sir Adrian, miserably; "or, if I did, it was
only to form wrong impressions. I firmly believed, seeing Miss Delmaine
and Arthur together here, that she betrayed nothing but a rooted dislike
to him."

"They had not been good friends of late," explains Dora hastily; "that
we all could see. And Florence is very peculiar, you know; she is quite
the dearest girl in the world, and I adore her; but I will confess to
you"--with another upward and bewitching glance from the charming blue
eyes--"that she has her little tempers. Not very naughty ones, you
know"--shaking her head archly--"but just enough to make one a bit
afraid of her at times; so I never ventured to ask her why she treated
poor Arthur, who really is her slave, so cruelly."

"And you think now that--" Sir Adrian breaks off without finishing the
sentence.

"That she has forgiven him whatever offense he committed? Yes, after
what we have just seen--quite a sentimental little episode, was it
not?--I can not help cherishing the hope that all is again right between
them. It could not have been a very grave quarrel, as Arthur is
incapable of a rudeness; but then dearest Florence is so capricious!"

"Ill-tem