“Sweet voice of comfort! ’Twas like the stealing Of summer wind thro’ some wreathed shell-- Each secret winding, each inmost feeling Of my soul echoed to its spell! ’Twas whispered balm! ’Twas sunshine spoken! I’d live years of grief and pain To have my long sleep of sorrow broken By such benign, blessed sounds again!” “Beautiful words,” Lady Elaine murmured, dreamily, “and beautifully rendered!” Viscount Rivington only dimly comprehended her remark. His whole being was on fire with love. He made no reply, but snatched her to him in a frenzy of passion. For a moment Lady Elaine was so overcome with astonishment that she could make no resistance. His action had been so unexpected, so sudden, that she felt herself clasped in his arms before she realized what had happened. Brief as the scene was, it had not escaped the watchful eyes of Margaret Nugent, and she retired with the feelings of a victor. She encountered the Earl of Seabright a dozen steps away, and he looked about him eagerly. “Miss Nugent, have you seen Lady Elaine?” he asked. “Yes, my lord,” she smiled. “I would not advise you to interrupt a very interesting _tête-à-tête_.” He grasped one of her wrists and looked straight into her eyes. “Is Viscount Rivington with my daughter?” he demanded. “I have just seen Lady Elaine in the viscount’s arms,” replied Miss Nugent, with a light laugh. “Not very flattering to my absent cousin, but girls’ hearts are not made to break.” The earl was delighted, and the two went away, Miss Nugent to impart the news to an aristocratic scandalmonger, who added to her income by writing sensational paragraphs for a certain unscrupulous society paper, and the earl to excuse Lady Elaine’s absence to Colonel Greyson, who had only recently arrived, and had made an inquiry for her. “My dear colonel,” he said, “I am sorry to disappoint you, but I do not think that my daughter would welcome your presence just now.” “I am of a different opinion,” Colonel Greyson said, stoutly. “You and I, my lord, will never agree upon one point. What that is you know only too well.” “I have no desire to discuss the matter,” the earl replied, “and I do not thank you for interfering in what is purely a family matter. As I told you recently, I never wish to hear the name of Sir Harold Annesley again. My dear colonel, if Lady Gaynor knew that you had followed me here to-night, of all nights, for the express purpose of annoying me, you would incur her severe displeasure.” “I have brought news for Lady Elaine,” the colonel said. “I have no wish to annoy you, Lord Seabright, or any of Lady Gaynor’s guests. I bring hope to a breaking heart, and I intend seeing your daughter before I leave to-night.” The earl laughed harshly.