“Then you were not found out, that is all. You look so simple and ingenuous, and blush if a man says half a word to you; and all the time you are a greater flirt than I am.” “Oh, Fanny!” screamed Zoe, with horror. It seems a repartee may be conveyed in a scream; for Fanny now lost her temper altogether. “Your conduct with those two men is abominable,” said she. “I won't speak to you any more.” “I beg you will _not,_ in your present temper,” said Zoe, with unaffected dignity, and rising like a Greek column. Fanny flounced out of the room. Zoe sat down and sighed, and her glorious eyes were dimmed. Mystery--doubt--and now a quarrel. What a day! At her age, a little cloud seems to darken the whole sky. Next morning the little party met at breakfast. Lord Uxmoor, anticipating a delightful day, was in high spirits, and he and Fanny kept up the ball. She had resolved, in the silent watches of the night, to contest him with Zoe, and make every possible use of Severne, in the conflict. Zoe was silent and _distraite,_ and did not even try to compete with her sparkling rival. But Lord Uxmoor's eyes often wandered from his sprightly companion to Zoe, and it was plain he longed for a word from her mouth. Fanny observed, bit her lip, and tacked internally, “'bout ship,” as the sailors say. Her game now, conceived in a moment, and at once put in execution, was to encourage Uxmoor's attentions to Zoe. She began by openly courting Mr. Severne, to make Zoe talk to Uxmoor, and also make him think that Severne and she were the lovers. Her intentions were to utilize the coming excursion: she would attach herself to Harrington, and so drive Zoe and Uxmoor together; and then Lord Uxmoor, at his present rate of amorous advance, would probably lead Zoe to a detached rock, and make her a serious declaration. This good, artful girl felt sure such a declaration, made a few months hence in Barfordshire, would be accepted, and herself left in the cold. Therefore she resolved it should be made prematurely, and in Prussia, with Severne at hand, and so in all probability come to nothing. She even glimpsed a vista of consequences, and in that little avenue discerned the figure of Fanny Dover playing the part of consoler, friend, and ultimately spouse to a wealthy noble. CHAPTER V. THE letters were brought in; one was to Vizard, from Herries, announcing a remittance; one to Lord Uxmoor. On reading it, he was surprised into an exclamation, and his face expressed great concern. “Oh!” said Zoe--“Harrington!” Harrington's attention being thus drawn, he said, “No bad news, I hope?” “Yes,” said Uxmoor, in a low voice, “very bad. My oldest, truest, dearest friend has been seized with small-pox, and his life is in danger. He has asked for me, poor fellow. This is from his sister. I must start by the twelve o'clock train.” “Small-pox! Why, it is contagious,” cried Fanny; “and so disfiguring!”