ace. A return to India was now his only hope, and the only
way by which he could escape from the very peculiar difficulties of
his situation.

It was a trying position, but he took refuge in a certain lofty
courtesy which well became him, and which might pass very well for
that warmer feeling of which he was destitute. His natural kindliness
of disposition softened his manner toward Hilda, and his sense of
obligation made him tenderly considerate. If Hilda could have been
content with any thing except positive love, she would have found
happiness in that gentle and kindly and chivalrous courtesy which she
received at the hands of Lord Chetwynde. Content with this she was
not. It was something different from this that she desired; yet,
after all, it was an immense advance on the old state of things. It
gave her the chance of making herself known to Lord Chetwynde, a
chance which had been denied to her before. Conversation was no
longer impossible. At Chetwynde Castle there had been nothing but the
most formal remarks; now there were things which approximated almost
to an interchange of confidence. By her devotion, and by her
confession of her feelings, she had presented herself to him in a new
light, and that memorable confession of hers could not be forgotten.
It was while traveling together that the new state of things was most
manifest to her. She sat next to him in the carriage; she touched
him; her arm was close to his. That touch thrilled through her, even
though she knew too well that he was cold and calm-and indifferent.
But this was, at least, a better thing than that abhorrence and
repugnance which he had formerly manifested; and the friendly smile
and the genial remark which he often directed to her were received by
her with joy, and treasured up in the depths of her soul as something
precious.

Traveling thus together through scenes of grandeur and of beauty,
seated side by side, it was impossible to avoid a closer intimacy
than common. In spite of Lord Chetwynde's coolness, the very fact
that he was thus thrown into constant contact with a woman who was at
once beautiful and clever, and who at the same time had made an open
confession of her devotion to him, was of itself sufficient to
inspire something like kindliness of sentiment at least in his heart,
even though that heart were the coldest and the least susceptible
that ever beat. The scenes through which they passed were of
themselves calculated in t