t into tears, and, partially veiling with one hand the manly
emotion that had overtaken him, he extended the other to Charles, who
did not know what to do with it when he had got it, and dropped it as
soon as he could. But Dare, like many people whose feelings are all on
the surface, and who are rather proud of displaying them, was slow to
notice what was passing in the minds of others.

He sprang to his feet, and began to pace rapidly up and down.

"I will go after breakfast--at once--immediately after breakfast, to
Slumberleigh Rectory."

"I suppose, in that case, Miss Deyncourt is the person whose name you
would not mention the other day?"

"She is," said Dare. "You are right. It is she. We are betrothed. I will
fly to her after breakfast."

"You know your own affairs best," said Charles, whose temper had not
been improved by the free display of Dare's finer feelings; "but I am
not sure you would not do well to fly to Vandon first. It is best to be
off with the old love, I believe, before you are on with the new."

"She must at once go away from Vandon," said Dare, stopping short. "She
is a scandal, the--the old one. But how to make her go away?"

It was in vain for Charles to repeat that Dare must turn her out. Dare
had premonitory feelings that he was quite unequal to the task.

"I may tell her to go," he said, raising his eyebrows. "I may be firm as
the rock, but I know her well; she is more obstinate than me. She will
not go."

"She must," said Charles, with anger. "Her presence compromises Miss
Deyncourt. Can't you see that?"

Dare raised his eyebrows. A light seemed to break in on him.

"Any fool can see that," said Charles, losing his temper.

Dare saw a great deal--many things besides that. He saw that if a
friend, a trusted friend, were to manage her dismissal, it would be more
easy for that friend than for one whose feelings at the moment might
carry him away. In short, Charles was the friend who was evidently
pointed out by Providence for that mission.

Charles considered a moment. He began to see that it would not be done
without further delays and scandal unless he did it.

"She must and shall go at once, even if I have to do it," he said at
last, looking at Dare with unconcealed contempt. "It is not my affair,
but I will go, and you will be so good as to put off the flying over to
Slumberleigh till I come back. I shall not return until she has left the
house." And Charles marched out of