when it
appeared that Charles had heard, but had woven the announcement into a
dream.

This concert filled Guy's head. His only grief was that it was to be in
the evening, so that Charles could not go to it; and his wonder was
not repressed at finding that Philip did not mean to favour it with his
presence, since Guy would suffice for squire to Mrs. Edmonstone and her
daughters.

In fact, Philip was somewhat annoyed by the perpetual conversation about
the concert, and on the day on which it was to take place resolved on
making a long expedition to visit the ruins of an old abbey, far out of
all reports of it. As he was setting out, he was greeted, in a very loud
voice, by Mr. Gordon.

'Hollo, Morville! how are you? So you have great doings to-night, I
hear!' and he had only just forced himself from him, when he was again
accosted, this time in a hasty, embarrassed manner,--

'I beg your pardon, sir, but the ties of relationship--'

He drew himself up as if he was on parade, faced round, and replied
with an emphatic 'Sir!' as he behold a thin, foreign-looking man, in
a somewhat flashy style of dress, who, bowing low, repeated
breathlessly,--

'I beg your pardon--Sir Guy Morville, I believe!'

'Captain Morville, sir!'

'I beg your pardon--I mistook. A thousand pardons,' and he retreated;
while Philip, after a moment's wonder, pursued his walk.

The Hollywell party entered Broadstone in a very different temper, and
greatly did they enjoy the concert, both for themselves and for each
other. In the midst of it, while Amy was intent on the Italian words of
a song, Guy touched her hand, and pointed to a line in the programme--

Solo on the violin.... MR. S. B. DIXON.

She looked up in his face with an expression full of inquiry; but it
was no time for speaking, and she only saw how the colour mantled on his
cheek when the violinist appeared, and how he looked down the whole time
of the performance, only now and then venturing a furtive though earnest
glance.

He did not say anything till they were seated in the carriage, and then
astonished Mrs. Edmonstone by exclaiming--

'It must be my uncle!--I am sure it must. I'll ride to Broadstone the
first thing to-morrow, and find him out.'

'Your uncle!' exclaimed Mrs. Edmonstone. 'I never thought of that.'

S. B. Dixon,' said Guy. 'I know his name is Sebastian. It cannot be
any one else. You know he went to America. How curious it is! I suppose
ther