stood
waiting for an answer. "I feared it, and for long have been
expecting it. Claire, my love, are you sure? Oh, be quite sure
before you leave me."

For answer, Claire only knelt and flung her white arms round her
mother's neck, and hid her face upon her mother's bosom.

"You love him now, you think; but, oh, be careful. Search your heart
before you rob me of it. I have known love, too, Claire, or thought
I did; and indeed it can fade--and then, what anguish, what anguish!"

"Mother, mother! I will never leave you."

Mrs. Luttrell sighed.

"Ah, child, it is your happiness I am thinking of."

"I will never leave you, mother."

"And you, sir," continued Mrs. Luttrell, "are you sure? I am giving
you what is dearer than life itself; and as you value her now, treat
her worthily hereafter. Swear this to me, if my gift is worth so
much in your eyes. Sir, do you know--"

"Mother!"

Claire drew her mother's head down towards her and whispered in her
ear. Mrs. Luttrell frowned, hesitated, and finally said--

"Well, it shall be as you wish--though I doubt if it be wise.
God bless you, Claire--and you, sir; but oh, be certain, be certain!"

What incoherent speech I made in answer I know not, but my heart was
sore for this poor soul. Claire turned her eyes to me and rose,
smoothing her mother's grey locks.

"We will not leave her, will we? Tell her that we will not."

I echoed her words, and stepping to Mrs. Luttrell, took the frail,
white hand.

"Sir," she said, "you who take her from me should be my bitterest
foe. Yet see, I take you for a son."

Still rapt with the glory of my great triumph, and drunk with the
passion of that farewell kiss, I walked into our lodgings and laid my
hand on Tom's shoulder.

"Tom, I have news for you."

Tom started up. "And so have I for you."

"Great news."

"Glorious news!"

"Tom, listen: I am accepted."

"Bless my soul! Jasper, so am I."

"You?"

"Yes."

"When? Where?"

"This afternoon. Jasper, our success has come at last: for you the
Loves, for me the Muses; for you the rose, for me the bay. Jasper,
dear boy, they have learnt her worth at last."

"Her! Who?"

"Francesca. Jasper, in three months I shall be famous; for next
November 'Francesca: a Tragedy' will be produced at the Coliseum."

CHAPTER V.

TELLS HOW THE CURTAIN ROSE UPON "FRANCESCA: A TRAGEDY."

Again my story may hurry, for on the enchanted weeks that followed