o come and sing us the "Land of the
Leal."'

Amy saw him start up. What, did he think of her? Oh, what! He stepped
towards them. The silly girls cowered as if they had roused a lion. His
voice was not loud--it was almost as gentle as usual; but it quivered,
as if it was hard to keep it so, and, as well as she could see, his
face was rigid and stern as iron. 'Did you wish it?' he said, addressing
himself to her, as if she was the only person present.

Her breath was almost gone. 'Oh! I beg your pardon,' she faltered. She
could not exculpate herself, she saw it looked like an idle, almost like
an indecorous trick, unkind, everything abhorrent to her and to him,
especially in the present state of things. His eyes were on her, his
head bent towards her; he waited for an answer. 'I beg your pardon,' was
all she could say.

There was--yes, there was--one of those fearful flashes of his kindling
eye. She felt as if she was shrinking to nothing; she heard him say, in
a low, hoarse tone, 'I am afraid I cannot;' then Mr. Ross, Mary, lights
came in; there was a bustle and confusion, and when next she was clearly
conscious, Laura was ordering the carriage.

When it came, there was an inquiry for Sir Guy.

'He is gone home,' said Mr. Ross. 'I met him in the passage, and wished
him good night.'

Mr. Ross did not add what he afterwards told his daughter, that Guy
seemed not to know whether it was raining or not; that he had put an
umbrella into his hand, and seen him march off at full speed, through
the pouring rain, with it under his arm.

The ladies entered the carriage. Amy leant back in her corner, Laura
forbore to scold either Eveleen or Charlotte till she could have them
separately; Eveleen was silent, because she was dismayed at the effect
she had produced, and Charlotte, because she knew there was a scolding
impending over her.

They found no one in the drawing-room but Mr. Edmonstone and Charles,
who said they had heard the door open, and Guy run up-stairs, but they
supposed he was wet through, as he had not made his appearance. It was
very inhospitable in the girls not to have made room for him in the
carriage.

Amy went to see how her mother was, longing to tell her whole trouble,
but found her asleep, and was obliged to leave it till the morrow. Poor
child, she slept very little, but she would not go to her mother before
breakfast, lest she should provoke the headache into staying another
day. Guy was going by