Hubert Lepel arrived on the following day. He had not been to Beechfield Hall for some weeks, and he seemed to feel it incumbent upon him to make up to Enid for his long absence by presents and compliments; for he had brought her a beautiful bracelet, and was unusually profuse in his expressions of regard and admiration. And yet Enid seemed scarcely so pleased as a young girl in similar circumstances ought to have seemed. Indeed she shrank a little from private conversation with him, and looked harassed and troubled. It was perhaps in consequence of this fact that three days after his arrival Hubert sought a private interview with his sister. Flossy had meanwhile not spoken a word; she had been watching and waiting for those three days. "Florence, I am inclined to think that you were mistaken." "So am I," thought Flossy to herself; but aloud she only asked, "Why, dear?" with perfect tranquility. "About Enid. I--I am beginning to think that she doesn't much care." He said the last words slowly, with his eyes on the tip of his boot. "I am sure you are mistaken," said Flossy quietly. "But she is not demonstrative, and--well, I may as well say it to you--she has taken some idea into her head--something about me--about the past----" She faltered skilfully; but she kept her eyes on Hubert's face, and saw that it wore a guilty look. "Well, Flossy, you are right," he said. "She has heard something--village talk, I suppose--and I cannot get her to tell me what it is." "She means perhaps to tell some one else?" said Mrs. Vane, with bitterness. "No, I believe not. She has no wish to harm you, poor child, although she thinks that the General ought not to be deceived. However, I persuaded her to abandon that idea, showing her that it was not her duty to tell a thing that would so utterly destroy his happiness." Florence turned away her head. "I felt myself a villain," Hubert continued gravely, "in counseling her to stifle her conscientious scruples, Florence; but, for your sake and your husband's sake, I pleaded with her, and prevailed on her to keep silence--she will tell no one but myself after our marriage." "You had better not let her open the subject with you at all. It will only be productive of unhappiness." Flossy discerned the entanglement at once--she saw that Hubert meant one thing and Enid another; but out of their cross-purposes she divined a way of keeping the girl silent. "For my sake Hubert, don't discuss my terrible past between you. What good would it do? Promise me that, when you are married, you will not let her speak of it--even to you." She shed a tear or two as she spoke. "Poor Flossy!" said Hubert, laying his hand on her arm. "Don't grieve, dear! I have no right to say anything, have I? Yes, I promise you I will not let her say a word about the matter, either now or afterwards, if I can help it, and certainly to no one beside myself."