ere?"

"Certainly not. But if he did come, how could I refuse to see him?
I thought that he was here on Saturday, and I told Richard to admit
him. I could not send him away from the door."

"I do not think he will come unless he is asked," said Hampstead.
Then the conversation was over.

On the following day, at two o'clock, Lord Hampstead again started
for Holloway. On this occasion he drove over, and left his trap
and servant at the "Duchess of Edinburgh." He was so well known in
the neighbourhood now as hardly to be able to hope to enter on the
domains of Paradise Row without being recognized. He felt that it was
hard that his motions should be watched, telling himself that it was
one of the evils belonging to an hereditary nobility; but he must
accept this mischief as he did others, and he walked up the street
trying to look as though he didn't know that his motions were being
watched first from Number Fifteen as he passed it, and then from
Number Ten opposite, as he stood at Mrs. Roden's door.

Mrs. Roden was at home, and received him, of course, with her most
gracious smile; but her heart sank within her as she saw him, for she
felt sure that he had come in pursuit of Marion Fay. "It is very kind
of you to call," she said. "I had heard from George that you had gone
down into the country since we had the pleasure of dining with you."

"Yes; my father has been unwell, and I had to stay with him a few
days or I should have been here sooner. You got home all of you quite
well?"

"Oh, yes."

"Miss Fay did not catch cold?"

"Not at all;--though I fear she is hardly strong."

"She is not ill, I hope?"

"Oh, no; not that. But she lives here very quietly, and I doubt
whether the excitement of going out is good for her."

"There was not much excitement at Hendon Hall, I think," he said,
laughing.

"Not for you, but for her perhaps. In appreciating our own condition
we are so apt to forget what is the condition of others! To Marion
Fay it was a strange event to have to dine at your house,--and
strange also to receive little courtesies such as yours. It is hard
for you to conceive how strongly the nature of such a girl may be
effected by novelties. I have almost regretted, Lord Hampstead, that
I should have consented to take her there."

"Has she said anything?"

"Oh, no; there was nothing for her to say. You are not to suppose
that any harm has been done."

"What harm could have been done?" he asked. Of