"Is it, darling? I feel your going away so much. But we must not remain talking here. If you wish to drive to the station, it is high time the ponies were brought round, and I myself wish to see that everything is as she will like it in Mattie's room." The warmer days of the golden summer had passed away rapidly; it was the first of August, and the marriage was to be on the tenth. So great and entire had been the secrecy preserved, that no creature in that vast establishment knew anything at all about it, the servants and every one else thought that Mattie was simply coming for her yearly visit; but that the wedding of their young lady was on the _tapis_, no one for a moment suspected. Lord Vivianne had not made a very long stay at Linleigh Court; matters were not very pleasant for him there. Lady Linleigh seemed suddenly to have grown very observant, and he found but few opportunities of speaking to Doris. After his impassioned, violent words on that evening, she had made no answer; the rapture and tenderness had all died from her face--a hard, fixed look came in her eyes. "Let the worst come now," she said; "it will serve him right." She pleaded and prayed no more; and it was well for him that he could not read the thoughts that were in her mind. He poured out such a torrent of passionate words she heard none of them. After a time she said: "I think we have been out quite long enough, Lord Vivianne: we will return, if you please." When they reached the lawn again, where the ladies, with their attendant cavaliers, were enjoying the fair, sweet night, he suddenly took her right hand, and kissed it. "I shall hope to make this mine, one day," he said. She snatched it from him with sudden violence, and it struck the trunk of a tree with such terrible force that he thought she had broken it. "I will cut my hand off," she said, "if you touch it again." He was startled by her vehemence. "You do indeed hate me, Dora," he said, sadly. "I do, indeed," was the reply. And then they saw Lady Linleigh walking across the lawn to them. "My dear Doris," her ladyship cried, "what is the matter, darling? See! you have a great stain of blood on your dress--and your hand! What has happened?" She took the white hand, with its purple, bleeding bruise, into her own. "What is the matter, Doris? Lord Vivianne, what is the matter?" She saw that he looked dreadfully distressed. "Dear Lady Linleigh, it is nothing," said Lady Doris, quickly, fearing that he would speak. "I was resting against the gate there, and I thought something was on my hand, a snake crawled over it--a horrible, slimy snake--and in my hurry, I bruised it against the gate--that is all." "But," said the countess, perplexedly, "Lord Vivianne was with you." "Oh, yes, he was there!"