The hour was somewhat early for a usual call; but as an _ami de la maison_, and considering the errand on which he was come, Desmond thought he might venture to take the liberty, and he felt a kind of pleasure in the belief that he would surprise his intended, for he came with the full resolution of sacrificing himself at last, and making a proposal to Clare, and feeling apparently as cool in the matter as if he were going to buy a horse at Tattersall's. Miss Collingwood was at home and disengaged; Miss Violet and Mrs. Beverley were out driving; so all seemed to favour the object he had in view, and he was ushered into the drawing-room. His name was announced; but Clare, who was seated at a writing-table, with a somewhat abstracted air, did not hear it, as she was intently perusing a tiny note she had just written. She seemed agitated, too, for her eyes bore unmistakable traces of tears. Agitation was so unusual with her, and indeed with anyone Desmond met in society, that he paused with some surprise, standing irresolutely near her, hat in hand; and as he watched the contour of her head with a gleam of sunshine in her braided hair, the curve of her shoulders, the pure beauty of her profile, the grace of the tender white neck encircled by its frill of tulle, and the quick movement of the lovely little hand, as she rapidly closed and addressed the note, he thought what a creditable-looking wife she would be to show the world--aye, even the world of London. There seemed something of a sad expression on her usually serene face; but he knew not then that her heart was beating with a new joy--yea, that 'it throbbed like a bird's heart when it is wild with the first breath of spring.' Suddenly his figure caught her eye. 'Major Desmond, pray pardon me; I did not hear you announced.' 'I fear, Miss Collingwood'--he could not at that moment trust himself to say 'Clare'--'that I intrude upon your privacy,' and the nearest approach to anger and surprise that the usually imperturbable and impassive Desmond could permit himself to manifest appeared in his face when he saw her, with a rapidity, and even with something of alarm, which she could not or cared not to conceal, thrust the recently addressed envelope into the Marguerite pouch--the same in which Trevor Chute had seen her place a note from Desmond on the coaching day; but that referred only to a bet of gloves and the coming Derby. All this seemed terribly unwonted, and the deduction instantly drawn by the tall guardsman was that a note thus concealed was not intended for one of her own sex. 'You do not intrude,' said Clare, timidly, yet composedly. 'I am, as you see, quite alone--my sisters have gone to the Park.' Desmond was too well bred to make any direct allusion either to Clare's emotion or the matter of the note, to which that emotion gave an importance it otherwise could not merit; but he was nevertheless anxious for some light on the episode.