ff--it isn't ten minutes
from here."

Bertie murmured a profusion of thanks, and, distrustful of Miss Opie,
protested against being so troublesome. But Bluebell, scarce able to
believe in such luck, sprang up with a sudden illumination of
countenance, and the next minute the lovers were alone under the light
of the moon.

"Bluebell," said Du Meresq, "I have got a sleigh here. I thought I
_might_ get you out of it if I pretended I was walking, and didn't know
the way; but the fact is, my child, I can hardly limp a hundred yards.
Come a little drive with me."

"Oh! I dare not. It is so late, and they expect me back again directly."

"Then you are going to run away the first moment we have been alone for
so long!"

"Whose fault is that," said she, reproachfully.

"Not mine. I have been laid up ten days with a broken ankle. But I
suppose you have been seeing Jack Vavasour every day, and forgotten all
about me?"

"Bertie," said Bluebell, hesitatingly, "did they say anything to you
about--"

"About Jack? Yes, they said he was spoons on you. And also, Miss
Bluebell, that you were awfully in love with him."

"No, no, nonsense," said she, blushing. "I meant about yourself."

"They know nothing of that?" said he, inquiringly.

"They do, though. I don't know what you will say, Bertie, but I told Mrs.
Rolleston."

"What can you mean, Bluebell? Bella told me that you cared for nobody but
Jack Vavasour; and I was deuced angry, I can tell you; at first, though I
thought it uncommon 'cute of you saying so."

Bluebell, utterly confounded by this extraordinary assertion, had no time
to reply, for she found herself close to a covered sleigh, and the man
had got down and opened the door. She drew back.

"Jump in," said Bertie, impatiently.

Bluebell shook her head.

"What do you propose?" said he, in an angry whisper. "We can't sit out in
the snow, and I can't walk another yard."

She hesitated, and he gently impelled her into the vehicle, following
himself, to the anguish of his injured foot, that he had struck in his
haste.

"Where to, sir?" said the man, whom Bertie, in his momentary pain, had
forgotten.

"Go to the Don Bridge."

"Can't, sir. I am ordered at the College by six o'clock."

"Drive to the devil, then. I mean, drive about as long as you can. I like
driving."

"Hush, Bertie! how can you? What will he think?"

"How much 'old rye' he will get out of the job. Come, Bluebell; the hour
is ours, don