Katherine recovered her composure instantly, and the reaction brought the blood back into her cheeks. She said with a smile to the old man,--“It will be charming to see Mr. Chetwynd again.” Felicia envied her. She could not have trusted her voice whatever had been at stake. When they rose from the table, the old man motioned to Felicia to come with him on to the balcony, which ran continuously past the dining-room and salon windows. “Is it not good news?” She hung her head, and faltered out,-- “Yes.” “Will you still be glad to see Raine again?” “You know--how can I tell you?” “My dear child,” he said, laying his hand on hers, as it rested on the iron balustrade, “do you know what I hope Raine is coming for?” Felicia shook her head. “Oh, I dare not think it--we must not speak of it. I don't think I shall be able to meet him.” “Can I help you?” asked the old man, tenderly. “You can tell an old man things without shame that you cannot tell a young one. I have grown very fond of you, my child. To part with you would be a great wrench. And that this other should be has become one of the dearest wishes of my life.” “Ah! you are good--dear, and good, and kind,” replied the girl; “but--” “Well, perhaps you can explain a little enigma in Raine's letter!” She looked up at him quickly. For the first time, her cheek flushed with a ray of hope. “Can you explain this?” he asked, taking the letter from his pocket, and placing it so that they both could read as they leant over the balcony. He pointed to a sentence. _“I am coming on my own account as well as yours. This, so that you should not be conceited, and think you are the only magnet in Geneva that draws_ _Your loving_ _“Raine.”_ “There!” he said, hastily withdrawing it. “Perhaps I ought not to have shown it to you. But Raine never talks idly; and I have ventured to believe that Miss Felicia Graves is the magnet in question. Goodbye, my dear. I think I have committed enough indiscretion for one day.” She gave his hand a little caressing squeeze, and, when he had gone, remained a long time on the balcony, deep in troubled thoughts. Who was the magnet--she or Katherine? She strove not to think of it, to busy herself with whatever interests she could find to hand. With this end in view, she took out for a long walk little Miss Bunter, who had been in low spirits for some days. She strove to cheer her. But Miss Bunter folded her drapery of depression all the more closely around her, and poured into Felicia's ears the history of her engagement with the man in Burmah. “Our marriage has just been put off for another year,” she said. “I thought I had come to the end of my waiting. But he can't afford it yet; and you have no idea how expensive living is there.” “Oh! I shouldn't have thought so,” said Felicia. “My dear!” said Miss Bunter, straightening her thin shoulders reproachfully, “Mr. Dotterel says so, and he has been living there fifteen years.”