't spoil it fidgetting about trivialities. I have scarcely
dared to look at you yet, my beautiful pet," trying to steal an arm round
her waist. But she drew herself away, irresponsive and rigid, being
uneasy and frightened at the escapade she had been led into.

"You haven't a spark of moral courage, Bluebell," said Bertie,
impatiently. "You are as prim and unlike yourself as possible, just
because you are wondering what that man on the box will think. Or,
perhaps, you are afraid of that thin, sour old duenna at home."

"She will be inquisitive enough," said Bluebell, resignedly. "And,
Bertie, I wanted to tell you, but, perhaps, you know, that they will
never have me again at the 'Maples' while you are there,--Mrs. Rolleston
so utterly disapproves of it."

"What _is_ this hallucination that you have got hold of?" said Du Meresq.
"What did you tell, or fancy you told, Bella?"

"We got on the subject. Your name wasn't actually mentioned; but she
quite understood, and said something," said Bluebell, reddening as she
felt the awkwardness of her words, "very strong against it."

Bertie looked relieved. He began to understand the mistake, which he
considered a fortunate one.

"And did you promise to give me up?"

She turned her large, innocent eyes upon him. "How could I, when I care
more for you than anything in the world?"

"My poor little Bluebell!" said Du Meresq, crushing her in his arms. But
the sleigh stopped; the man was getting down.

"My time is up, sir."

"Well, drive to where you took us up," said Bertie. "Bluebell, tell me
quick, where shall I see you again?"

"I can't risk driving," said she, hurriedly. "When will you be able to
walk?"

"Can't I see you alone at home sometimes? When are your people likely to
be out?"

"They don't go out for days together, except on Sunday, to church; and
Aunt Jane would suspect something directly if I didn't go with them."

"Let her, meddling old idiot! I shall come then, Bluebell."

"No, no, Bertie; pray don't! Could you walk in a week?"

"What an eternity! Well, meet me in the Avenue in the Queen's Park, at
three o'clock on Wednesday. Here's this brute getting down again. Only
just time to kiss those dear blue eyes. _Addio_ Leonore. How the deuce
am I to get home, I wonder?"

"Bertie, you'll never be able to walk."

"Never mind me. Run back, my dearest, and throw dust in the eyes of that
misguided old female, who presumes to open them on what doesn't conc