dear Margrave, I reject your bribes as I would reject the moon and
the stars which a child might offer to me in exchange for a toy; but I
may give the child its toy for nothing, and I may test your experiments
for nothing some day when I have leisure."

I did not hear Margrave's answer, for at that moment my servant entered
with letters. Lilian's hand! Tremblingly, breathlessly, I broke the
seal. Such a loving, bright, happy letter; so sweet in its gentle
chiding of my wrongful fears! It was implied rather than said that
Ashleigh Sumner had proposed and been refused. He had now left the
house. Lilian and her mother were coming back; in a few days we should
meet. In this letter were inclosed a few lines from Mrs. Ashleigh. She
was more explicit about my rival than Lilian had been. If no allusion
to his attentions had been made to me before, it was from a delicate
consideration for myself. Mrs. Ashleigh said that "the young man had
heard from L---- of our engagement, and--disbelieved it;" but, as Mrs.
Poyntz had so shrewdly predicted, hurried at once to the avowal of his
own attachment, and the offer of his own hand. On Lilian's refusal his
pride had been deeply mortified. He had gone away manifestly in more
anger than sorrow.

"Lady Delafield, dear Margaret Poyntz's aunt, had been most kind in
trying to soothe Lady Haughton's disappointment, which was rudely
expressed,--so rudely," added Mrs. Ashleigh, "that it gives us an
excuse to leave sooner than had been proposed,--which I am very glad
of. Lady Delafield feels much for Mr. Sumner; has invited him to
visit her at a place she has near Worthing. She leaves to-morrow in
order to receive him; promises to reconcile him to our rejection,
which, as he was my poor Gilbert's heir, and was very friendly at
first, would be a great relief to my mind. Lilian is well, and so
happy at the thoughts of coming back."

When I lifted my eyes from these letters I was as a new man, and the
earth seemed a new earth. I felt as if I had realized Margrave's idle
dreams,--as if youth could never fade, love could never grow cold.

"You care for no secrets of mine at this moment," said Margrave,
abruptly.

"Secrets!" I murmured; "none now are worth knowing. I am loved! I am
loved!"

"I bide my time," said Margrave; and as my eyes met his, I saw there
a look I had never seen in those eyes before, sinister, wrathful,
menacing. He turned away, went