, Miss Leigh, as mamma has
decided to take Mabel and Adela, which means you also; for Uncle Bromley
has rather a horror of children, and would no more have any of the
juveniles of the family without a keeper, than he would admit a pack of
hounds into the house. Why, Miss Leigh, you look delightful! Do you
really care to go?" Then her suspicions awakening, she set a trap like
lightning.

"I wonder" (carelessly) "if poor Harry Dutton will get back in time. He
is invalided home from Scutari."

Self-command--everything--vanished.

"How did you hear that?" with crimson cheeks and suspiciously dimmed
eyes.

"How?" with marked emphasis. "Would it not be stranger if one had not
heard it? Uncle Bromley named it in his letter. He was wounded,"
bringing out the words slowly, "and almost died in the hospital. I hope
he will survive the voyage home."

"That girl's a fiend," thought Bluebell, rushing off to her own room in a
paroxysm of terror. Then, as she tried to think it out, it became quite
evident Harry could not be aware of her change of residence, perhaps had
received no letters at the hospital, and would not even know where to
find her when he returned. Still, she would be in the right direction,
for no doubt he would go to Bromley Towers. But what a place to meet in!
And, being ignorant of his address, she could not even send a line of
warning.

Romantic notions of fascinating Lord Bromley, and thus facilitating
confession when Harry returned, stole through her brain. Kate's play
paled in dramatic interest to the possible "situations" that seemed
impending. One drawback to taming the lion was the probability of
scarcely being on speaking terms with him. Her mission, indeed, seemed to
be to keep the children _out_ of his way. But there were the theatricals;
children, servants, governesses even, would be privileged to look on that
one night. The coquette nature, dormant from want of practice, awoke
again. Lord Bromley was only a man! Why couldn't she make him like her?

Kate observed renewed smiles and animation, and set it down to the hope
of seeing Dutton at "The Towers," especially as she also detected her
doing what maids call "a little work for myself," and effecting wonders
with a few yards of muslin and ruffling.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE LOAN OF A LOVER.

Parks with oak and chestnut shady,
Parks and ordered gardens great,
Ancient homes of lord and lady,
Built for pleasure and for state.