"Hush, father!" said Charley, checking him. "The time has nearly come for burying the past. Let us hope that some day the grass may grow green and pleasant-looking over its grave. At present, I see nothing but a black yawning pit--one which I shrink from approaching." Volume 2, Chapter XXV. COMING ROUND. "From the Brays, Charley?" said Sir Philip, as they sat over their breakfast at Long's about a month after the meeting in Branksome-street. "Yes," said Charley. "Mr Bray has taken a private box at Her Majesty's for to-night, and will we have an early dinner with them and go?" "My dear boy, I trust you will accept the invitation." "Do you wish me to, father?" said Charley. "Yes, certainly," cried Sir Philip; "but not in that dreadfully resigned spirit." "All right, sir!" said Charley, with a smile that he tried to make cheerful; and tossing the letter carelessly aside, he went on with his breakfast. "You will write an answer, and send it by a commissionaire, of course?" "No," said Charley. "I'll ride up there before lunch, and tell them. I want to see if my little maid Nelly has come back yet: she seems to make the Brays' place more bearable when one goes there." Charley burst out laughing the next moment to see his father's serious face. "Well, really, my dear father," he said, as he interpreted his look, "I how can you expect me to play the hypocrite?" Sir Philip was troubled, but he said nothing; and soon after Charley retired to his own room, where, over a cigar, he sat turning about the various reports he had received from Branksome-street, wondering the while why none had come in the night before. "Nothing of sufficient importance to send in, I suppose," he muttered; and then he sat musing and thoughtful, reading here that Mr Maximilian Bray went to his office, dined out at Crescent Villas, went to Saint James's Hall in the evening in company with Mrs M. and Miss B., returned to C.V., then back to lodgings; there, that Mrs M. and Miss B. called at Bury-street, and Mr Maximilian Bray accompanied them to the House of Commons. Day after day the reports were of a similar nature, all tending to show that Max was a most constant visitor at Crescent Villas, but little more. Charley sat so long that he had to give up his projected ride, and sent a messenger with a note to say that Sir Philip and he would dine with the Brays at six, and accompany them afterwards to the opera. They were punctual to their time; and Laura, handsomer than ever, and most tastefully dressed, greeted Charley shrinkingly, while, going up to Sir Philip, there was something very winning in the way in which she offered him her cheek, and the old gentleman saluted her. "Nelly come back?" said Charley quietly, as he took Laura down to dinner. "No," said Laura; and as she spoke, there was a tremor in her arm. "I am to meet her to-morrow at Paddington-station. I thought perhaps--"