a little closer.

"You stayed in London for me, Richard. Why did you? There was no need,"
she exclaimed; "there was no need, do you hear? Oh, I shall never
forgive Comyn for his meddling! I am sure 'twas he who told you some
ridiculous story. He had no foundation for it."

"Dorothy," I demanded, my voice shaking with earnestness, "will you
tell me honestly there is no foundation for the report that the duke is
intriguing to marry you?"

That question was not answered, and regret came the instant it had left
my lips--regret and conviction both. Dorothy joined Lady Carlisle before
our absence had been noted, and began to banter Fitzpatrick upon his
losings.

We were in the lighted Grove again, and sitting down to a supper of
Vauxhall fare: transparent slices of ham (which had been a Vauxhall joke
for ages), and chickens and cheese cakes and champagne and claret,
and arrack punch. Mr. Tyers extended the concert in our favour. Mrs.
Weichsell and the beautiful Baddeley trilled sentimental ballads which
our ladies chose; and Mr. Vernon, the celebrated tenor, sang Cupid's
Recruiting Sergeant so happily that Storer sent him a bottle of
champagne. After which we amused ourselves with catches until the space
between our boxes and the orchestra was filled. In the midst of this
Comyn came quietly in from the other box and took a seat beside me.

"Chartersea is here to-night," said he.

I started. "How do you know?"

"Tyers told me he turned up half an hour since. Tom asked his Grace to
join our party," his Lordship laughed. "Duke said no--he was to be here
only half an hour, and Tom did not push him. He told me as a joke, and
thinks Chartersea came to meet some petite."

"Any one with him?" I asked.

"Yes. Tall, dark man, one eye cast,--that's Lewis. They have come on
some dirty work, Richard. Watch little Marmaduke. He has been fidgety as
a cat all night."

"That's true," said I. Looking up, I caught Dorothy's eyes upon us,
her lips parted, uneasiness and apprehension plain upon her face. Comyn
dropped his voice still lower.

"I believe she suspects something," he said, rising. "Chartersea is
gone off toward the Wilderness, so Tom says. You must not let little
Marmaduke see him. If Manners gets up to go, I will tune up Black-eked
Susan, and do you follow on some pretext. If you are not back in a
reasonable time, I'll after you."

He had been gone scant three minutes before I heard his clear voice
singing, "in the D