ight, perhaps, influence Miss Ponsonby's determination.
And when he had received her most courteous, though hopeless answer, he
only expressed his wishes for her future happiness, which he could not
doubt.

'I feel,' said Lord Bohun, as he was about to depart; 'I feel,' he
said, in a very hesitating voice, 'I am taking a great, an unwarrantable
liberty; but believe me, dear Miss Ponsonby, the inquiry, if I could
venture to make it, is inspired by the sincerest desire for your
welfare.

Speak with freedom, Lord Bohun; you will ever, I am sure, speak with
kindness.'

'I would not willingly despair then, unless I believed that heart were
engaged to another.'

Miss Ponsonby bent down and plucked a flower, and, her brow covered with
blushes, with an agitated hand tore the flower to pieces.

'Is this a fair inquiry?' she murmured. 'It is for your sake I inquire,'
answered Lord Bohun.

Now an irresistible conviction came over her mind that Lord Bohun was
thinking of Ferrers, and a desire on her part as strong to learn at
length something of her mysterious lover.

'What, indeed, if I be not mistress of my heart?' She spoke without
raising her head.

'In that case I will believe that it belongs to one worthy of such a
treasure.'

'You speak of Edmund Ferrers?' said Miss Ponsonby.

'The same.'

'You know him?' she inquired, in a choking voice.

'I know and honour him. I have long believed that the world did not
boast a man more gifted; now I know that it does not possess a man more
blessed.'

'Shall you see him?' she inquired in a quick tone.

'Probably you will see him first; I am sufficiently acquainted with his
movements to know that he will soon be here. This Greek boy whom you
have sometimes noticed is his page; I wish him to join his master again;
and methinks the readiest way will be to leave him in this isle. Here,
Spiridion, bow to your new mistress, and be dutiful for her sake, as
well as that of your lord's. Adieu! dearest Miss Ponsonby!'

CHAPTER VIII.

_A Welcome Message_

THIS strange conversation with Lord Bohun at parting, was not without
a certain wild, but not unpleasing influence over the mind of Henrietta
Ponsonby. Much as it at first had agitated her, its result, as she often
mused over it, was far from being without solace. It was consoling,
indeed, to know that one person, at least, honoured that being in whom
she had so implicitly relied: Lord Bohun, also, had before spok