I scarcely heard what she said, for a sick faint feeling came over me at the consciousness that I was now in the presence of a woman for whom Pendarves had undoubtedly felt some sort of regard; but it was jealousy for the past, not of the present, that overcame me, though my husband's total silence with regard to this lady was, I could not but think, an alarming circumstance. And "it was on her account your mother forbade your marriage with Pendarves" still vibrated painfully in my ears, when Lord Charles and he appeared. With a smile by no means as unconstrained as usual I met him, and accepted his proffered arm. Lord Charles walked with us for a round or two--then left us, whispering as he did so, "Remember! _do_ notice her, she expects it, and I think she has a right to it." Pendarves muttered, "Well, if it must be so," and his companion disappeared. "Soon after we saw him with Lady Bell Singleton leaning on his arm; and I felt convinced he had made the acquaintance since we were last at Ranelagh, as he never noticed her till that night. We were now meeting them for the second time, and passing close to them, when I saw Lady Bell pointedly try to catch my husband's eye: and no longer avoiding it, he took off his hat, and civilly, though distantly, returned the cordial but silent salutation which she gave him. "This," thought I, "is in consequence of Lord Charles's interference, and explains what Pendarves meant by 'Well, if I must, I must.'" How I wished that he would break his silence on this subject, and be ingenuous! But I felt it was a delicate subject for him to treat--and I resolved to break the ice myself. "That was a very beautiful woman to whom you bowed just now," said I, glad to find that Mrs. Pendarves was looking another way. "She _has_ been beautiful indeed!" was his reply. Then looking at me, surprised I doubt not at the tremor of my voice, he was equally surprised at my excessive paleness, and with some little sarcasm in his tone, he said, "My dear Helen, is my only bowing to a fine woman capable of making your cheek pale, and your voice trembling?" "No," said I, "not so--you wrong me indeed; nor did I know that my cheek was pale." I said no more, shrinking from the seeming indelicacy of forcing a confidence which he was disposed to withhold. "Helen," said he, looking up in my face, "I see our aunt Pendarves has been at her old work, telling tales of me. I protest I shall insist on my uncle's sending her muzzled into your company." "The best way of muzzling her would be to anticipate all her communications yourself. It would be such an effectual silence to a woman like our little aunt, to be able to say, 'I know that already!'"