ouldest vow and not pay." Why not write to Sir Blount,
tell him the inconvenience of such a bond, and ask him to release you?'

'No; never will I. The expression of such a desire would, in his mind,
be a sufficient reason for disallowing it. I'll keep my word.'

Mr. Torkingham rose to leave. After she had held out her hand to him,
when he had crossed the room, and was within two steps of the door, she
said, 'Mr. Torkingham.' He stopped. 'What I have told you is only the
least part of what I sent for you to tell you.'

Mr. Torkingham walked back to her side. 'What is the rest of it, then?'
he asked, with grave surprise.

'It is a true revelation, as far as it goes; but there is something more.
I have received this letter, and I wanted to say--something.'

'Then say it now, my dear lady.'

'No,' she answered, with a look of utter inability. 'I cannot speak of
it now! Some other time. Don't stay. Please consider this conversation
as private. Good-night.'

IV

It was a bright starlight night, a week or ten days later. There had
been several such nights since the occasion of Lady Constantine's promise
to Swithin St. Cleeve to come and study astronomical phenomena on the
Rings-Hill column; but she had not gone there. This evening she sat at a
window, the blind of which had not been drawn down. Her elbow rested on
a little table, and her cheek on her hand. Her eyes were attracted by
the brightness of the planet Jupiter, as he rode in the ecliptic
opposite, beaming down upon her as if desirous of notice.

Beneath the planet could be still discerned the dark edges of the park
landscape against the sky. As one of its features, though nearly
screened by the trees which had been planted to shut out the fallow
tracts of the estate, rose the upper part of the column. It was hardly
visible now, even if visible at all; yet Lady Constantine knew from
daytime experience its exact bearing from the window at which she leaned.
The knowledge that there it still was, despite its rapid envelopment by
the shades, led her lonely mind to her late meeting on its summit with
the young astronomer, and to her promise to honour him with a visit for
learning some secrets about the scintillating bodies overhead. The
curious juxtaposition of youthful ardour and old despair that she had
found in the lad would have made him interesting to a woman of
perception, apart from his fair hair and early-Christian face. But such