From whatever cause Mr. Kelvin's anxiety might spring, he made an effort this evening to put it behind him, and partly succeeded in so doing. He assumed a cheerfulness, if he felt it not, and his mother was only too ready to believe that it was genuine. It struck Olive, however, that she had never seen her cousin drink so much brandy-and-water as he did this evening, and then he would finish up with champagne, toasting Olive in one bumper and his mother in another. After that he went out for a stroll and a whiff in the quiet streets, and had not come back when the ladies retired for the night. "Your coming, dear, seems to have done Matthew good," said Mrs. Kelvin to Olive, as she kissed her at her bedroom door. "I have not seen him so bright and cheerful for weeks as he has been to-night. But I dare say my company is a little dull for him at times, and the house would be all the brighter for him if you could be here always." If she could be there always! How the words rang in Olive's ears when shut up in the solitude of her own room! She could not go to bed till she heard Matthew come in, so she put out the candle and drew up the blind, and sat gazing out at the chilly stars till she heard her cousin's footsteps on the stairs. Mrs. Kelvin never came down to breakfast, a fact of which Olive was aware. She judged that if her cousin had anything particular to say to her, he would say it when his mother was out of the way; so she took care to be down to breakfast betimes next morning. Kelvin was moody and distrait. After a little commonplace conversation, he lapsed into a silence that seemed deeper than common, and one which Olive did not care to break. "Do you see much of Miss Lloyd?" he said at last, with a suddenness that was almost startling. "I see her nearly every day--generally at luncheon," said Olive, quite calmly. She had expected some such question. "Is she well and happy?" "Quite well, and, as far as one person may judge of another, quite happy." Silence again for a minute or two. When Kelvin next spoke, it was with his eyes turned away from Olive. "She is young, handsome, and presumably rich, consequently not short of suitors--eh?" "I see so little of Miss Lloyd, except at breakfast or luncheon, that I am hardly in a position to answer your question. There is, however, one gentleman who visits at the house, and who seems to be looked upon with favourable eyes both by Lady Dudgeon and Miss Lloyd." "Ah! And who may he be?" "His name is Captain Dayrell. He is said to be cousin to Lord Rookborough." "Good-looking, of course?" "Not bad-looking, certainly." Silence again.