Trevor was so unused to this tone from Sir Carnaby that his heart swelled with mingled hope and anticipation, joy and sadness, as he said: 'I am only thankful to Heaven that I was here to-night, and able to be of service to you.' 'Service--egad, my dear fellow, you have saved my life!' 'The consciousness of that rewards me for more than one past misfortune.' 'Ah, you mean those which caused you to leave the Guards?' 'To leave England, and--lost me Clare!' said Chute, falteringly. 'Ah, well, it was all no fault of yours. It was a thousand pities that your father, the old General--an extravagant dog he was--could touch the entail. That is all over now; and believe me, Trevor Chute, if you forgive me the past, you shall not go without your _reward_.' And the two shook hands in silence. The heart of the younger man beat tumultuously, for well did he know the glorious 'reward' that was referred to. He knew that Sir Carnaby would keep to his word, and he had, we have said, an ardent admirer and adherent in Lady Evelyn. 'Captain Chute,' said she, 'do give up this peregrimania of yours, and spend Christmas with us at Carnaby Court. Promise me,' she added, taking his hands in hers; 'I will take no denial, and am always used to have my way in everything.' So Chute, without much difficulty, accepted an invitation in which kindness was perhaps mingled with some desire to get Clare off her hands. Chute, with Sir Carnaby's permission, wrote to Clare next day, saying that he had been so happy as to be of service to her father, and had saved him--'saved his life, in fact'--during a row among the Germans; that they were the best of friends now that all barriers were removed, and how happy he and she would yet be in the time to come. Poor Clare was extremely bewildered by all this, till the letter was supplemented by a more descriptive and effusive epistle from the, sometime to her, obnoxious Lady Evelyn, describing in glowing colours the terrors of the affair at Lubeck, Chute's bravery, and Sir Carnaby's rescue, and the heart of the girl leaped in her breast with gratitude to Heaven for this sudden change in the feelings of her father, and gratitude to Trevor for saving the selfish old man from injury, insult, and, too probably, a sudden and dreadful death; and amid this new-born happiness grew a longing to behold that of her sister and Jerry Vane. The latter, when in London, more than once, when with Desmond; contrived to draw on the subject of the male figure he had seen in the arbour with Ida, and found that he still adhered to it in all its somewhat vague details. On the other hand, he had a long private letter from Clare, impressing upon him that it must have been a delusion; that no such person had been seen by Ida; and dwelling delicately on the health of the latter, and the strange fancies which haunted her. Perplexed, he knew not what to think, and would mutter: