And she leant back in her
chair and covered her face with her hands.

Tancred rose from his seat, and paced the chamber. His heart seemed to
burst.

'What is all this?' he thought. 'How came all this to occur? How has
arisen this singular combination of unforeseen causes and undreamed-of
circumstances, which baffles all my plans and resolutions, and seems, as
it were, without my sanction and my agency, to be taking possession of
my destiny and life? I am bewildered, confounded, incapable of thought
or deed.'

His tumultuous reverie was broken by the sobs of Lady Bertie.

'By heaven, I cannot endure this!' said Tancred, advancing. 'Death seems
to me preferable to her un-happiness. Dearest of women!'

'Do not call me that,' she murmured. 'I can bear anything from your lips
but words of fondness. And pardon all this; I am not myself to-day.
I had thought that I had steeled myself to all, to our inevitable
separation; but I have mistaken myself, at least miscalculated my
strength. It is weak; it is very weak and very foolish, but you must
pardon it. I am too much interested in your career to wish you to delay
your departure a moment for my sake. I can bear our separation, at least
I think I can. I shall quit the world, for ever. I should have done so
had we not met. I was on the point of doing so when we did meet, when,
when my dream was at length realised. Go, go; do not stay. Bless you,
and write to me, if I be alive to receive your letters.'

'I cannot leave her,' thought the harrowed Tancred. 'It never shall be
said of me that I could blight a woman's life, or break her heart.' But,
just as he was advancing, the door opened, and a servant brought in a
note, and, without looking at Tancred, who had turned to the window,
disappeared. The desolation and despair which had been impressed on the
countenance of Lady Bertie and Bellair vanished in an instant, as she
recognised the handwriting of her correspondent. They were succeeded by
an expression of singular excitement. She tore open the note; a stupor
seemed to spread over her features, and, giving a faint shriek, she fell
into a swoon.

Tancred rushed to her side; she was quite insensible, and pale as
alabaster. The note, which was only two lines, was open and extended
in her hands. It was from no idle curiosity, but it was impossible for
Tancred not to read it. He had one of those eagle visions that nothing
could escape, and, himself extremely alarmed, it was the