“Here the conversation ceased, and a moment after Mr. Haverleigh himself entered the room. To an ordinary observer there was nothing in his manner to indicate that he had overheard a word, but there was a kind of ferocious look in his eyes, and his lips were shut more tightly together than usual as he bowed to Mrs. Fleming, and then, crossing to his wife, bent over her affectionately, and kissed her forehead as he asked if she would take a drive. It was a lovely afternoon. The Park was full of people, and Anna’s fresh young face attracted a great deal of notice, as did the haughty looking man at her side, who had never been as lover-like in his attentions as he was from that day on until the ocean was crossed, and they were at the Grosvenor House in London. His own house was closed, he said, when Anna asked why they did not go there, but he drove her past it, and she was sure she saw a lady’s face looking at them from one of the upper windows. Haverleigh must have seen it, too, for he muttered something which sounded like an execration under his breath, and drove on faster than before. “‘Does any one live in your house? I thought I saw a lady at the window,’ Anna said, timidly, for she was beginning to understand his moods, as he called his frequent fits of abstraction, and knew he was in one now. “There was nobody occupying his house, and she had not seen any one at the window, he answered rather curtly; but Anna knew she had, and dreamed that night of the large black eyes which had peered at her so curiously from the house on Belgrave Square. She could not be ignorant of the fact, either, that her husband, while paying her marked attention, especially in the parks and at table, was restless, and nervous, and very anxious to hurry away from London, and very impatient on account of the slight illness which kept them there a week longer than he wished to stay. “Once, just before their marriage, he had asked her whether she would rather go to Scotland first or France, and she had answered Scotland, preferring Southern France later in the autumn, when she hoped to see Nice and Mentone, before settling down for the winter at Chateau d’Or. ‘Then to Scotland we will go,’ he had replied, and she had greatly anticipated her visit to Scotland, and her trip through the Trosachs, and across the beautiful Lakes Lomond and Katrine, but all this was to be given up; her master had changed his mind, and without a word of explanation told her they were going at once to Paris. “‘You can attend to your dressmaking better there than elsewhere, and you know you are fond of satins, and laces, and jewelry,’ he said, and there was a gleam in his eye from which Anna would have shrunk had she noticed it; but she did not. She was thinking of Paris and its gayeties, and she packed her trunks without a word of dissent, and was soon established in a handsome suite of rooms, at the Grand Hotel, with permission to buy whatever she wanted, irrespective of expense.