but in a few
minutes they met again, and Sir Oswald ordered a bottle of his choicest
Madeira. They sat talking for some time, and Sir Oswald told Aubrey all
his plans--all that he intended to do. The young man listened, with envy
and dissatisfaction burning in his heart. All these plans, these hopes,
these prospects, might have been his but for that girl's cruel caprice.

They talked for more than an hour; and then Sir Oswald complained of
feeling sleepy.

"The wine does not seem to have its usual flavor to-night," he said;
"there is _something wrong_ with this bottle."

"I thought the same thing," observed Aubrey Langton; "but I did not like
to say so. I will bid you good-night, as you are tired. I shall ride
over to Audleigh Royal early in the morning, so I may not be here for
breakfast."

They shook hands and parted, Sir Oswald murmuring something about his
Madeira, and the captain feeling more desperate than ever.

CHAPTER XXI.

MYSTERIOUS ROBBERY.

The sun shone on Darrell Court; the warmth and brightness of the day
were more than pleasant. The sunbeams fell on the stately trees, the
brilliant flowers. There was deep silence in the mansion. Captain
Langton had been gone some hours. Sir Oswald was in his study. Pauline
sat with Miss Hastings under the shade of the cedar on the lawn. She had
a book in her hands, but she had not turned a page. Miss Hastings would
fain have said something to her about inattention, but there was a look
in the girl's face that frightened her--a proud, hard, cold look that
she had never seen there before.

Pauline Darrell was not herself that morning. Miss Hastings had told her
so several times. She had asked her again and again if she was ill--if
she was tired--and she had answered drearily, "No." Partly to cheer her,
the governess had suggested that they should take their books under the
shade of the cedar tree. She had assented wearily, without one gleam of
animation.

Out there in the sunlight Miss Hastings noticed how cold and white
Pauline's face was, with its hard, set look--there was a shadow in the
dark eyes, and, unlike herself, she started at every sound. Miss
Hastings watched her keenly. She evinced no displeasure at being so
watched; but when the elder lady went up to her and said, gently:

"Pauline, you are surely either ill or unhappy?"

"I am neither--I am only thinking," she returned, impatiently.

"Then your thoughts must be very unpleasant ones--t