nd anger now.
"Give it me! Give it me do you hear?"

"Sh! You'll betray yourself," she cried. "He is here."

And at that same moment Mr. Wilding's tall figure, still arrayed in his
bridegroom's finery of sky-blue satin, loomed in the doorway. He was
serene and calm as ever. Neither the discovery of the plot by the
abstraction of the messenger's letter, nor Ruth's strange conduct--of
which he had heard from Lord Gervase--had sufficed to ruffle, outwardly
at least, the inscrutable serenity of his air and manner. He paused
to make his bow, then advanced into the room, with a passing glance at
Richard still spurred and booted and all dust-stained.

"You appear to have ridden far, Dick," said he, smiling, and Richard
shivered in spite of himself at the mocking note that seemed to ring
faintly at the words. "I saw your friend, Sir Rowland, in the garden,"
he added. "I think he waits for you."

Though Richard could not fail to apprehend the implied dismissal, he
was minded at first to disregard it. But Mr. Wilding, turning, held the
door, addressing Diana.

"Mistress Horton," said he, "will you give us leave?"

Diana curtsied and passed out, and Mr. Wilding's eye falling upon the
lingering Richard at that moment, Richard thought it best to follow her
example. But he went with rage in his heart at being forced to leave
that precious document behind him.

As Mr. Wilding, his back to her a moment, closed the door, Ruth slipped
the paper hurriedly into the bosom of her low-necked gown. He turned to
her, calm but very grave, and his dark eyes seemed to reproach her.

"This is ill done, Ruth," said he.

"Ill done, or well done," she answered him, "done it is, and shall so
remain."

He raised his brows. "Ah," said he, "I appear, then, to have
misapprehended the situation. From what Gervase told me, I understood it
was your brother forced you to return."

"Not forced, sir," she answered him.

"Induced, then," said he. "It but remains me to induce you to repair
what I think was a mistake."

She shook her head. "I have returned home for good," said she.

"You'll pardon me," said he, "that I am so egotistical as to prefer
Zoyland Chase to Lupton House. Despite the manifold attractions of the
latter, I do not intend to take up my abode here."

"You are not asked to."

"What, then?"

She hated him for the smile, for his masterful air, which seemed to
imply that he humoured her because he scorned to use authority, but