“Is she dying? Good God! is she dead?” cried Lady Lackington, as she lifted the powerless arm, and held the cold hands within her own. Lanfranchi was speedily sent for, and saw that it was merely a fainting fit. “She was quite well previously, was she not?” asked he of Dunn. “Perfectly so. We were chatting of indifferent matters,--of London, and the season,--when she was seized,” said he. “Is there anything in the air here that disposes to these attacks?” Lanfranchi looked at him without reply. Possibly they understood each other, for they parted without further colloquy. CHAPTER XI. “A CONSULTATION.” It was late in the night as Lord Lackington and his friends reached the villa, a good deal wearied, very jaded, and, if the confession may be made, a little sick of each other; they parted pretty much as the members of such day-long excursions are wont to do,--not at all sorry to have reached home again, and brought their trip of pleasure to an end. Twining, of course, was the same happy-natured, gay, volatile creature that he set out in the morning. Everything went well with him, the world had but one aspect, which was a pleasant one, and he laughed and muttered, “What fun!” as in half-dogged silence the party wended their way through the garden towards the house. “I hope these little girls may not have caught cold,” said the Viscount, as he stood with Twining on the terrace, after saying “Good-night!” “I hope so, with all my heart. Charming girls--most fascinating--father so amiable.” “Isn't that Dunn's apartment we see the light in?” asked the other, half impatiently. “I 'll go and make him a visit.” “Overjoyed to see you, greatly flattered by the attention,” chimed in Twining; and while he rubbed his hands over the enchanting prospect, Lord Lackington walked away. Not waiting for any announcement, and turning the handle of the door immediately after he had knocked at it, the Viscount entered. Whether Dunn had heard him or not, he never stirred from the table where he was writing, but continued engrossed by his occupation till his Lordship accosted him. “I have come to disturb you, I fear, Dunn?” “Oh! Lord Lackington, your most obedient. Too happy to be honored by your presence at any time. Just returned, I conclude?” “Yes, only this moment,” said the Viscount, sighing weariedly. “These picnics are stupid inventions; they fatigue and they exhaust. They give little pleasure at the time, and none whatever to look back upon.” “Your Lordship's picture is rather a dreary one,” said Dunn, smiling. “Perfectly correct, I assure you; I went simply to oblige some country folks of yours. The O'Reillys,--nice little girls,--very natural, very pretty creatures; but the thing is a bore. I never knew any one who enjoyed it except the gentleman who gets tipsy, and _he_ has an awful retribution in the next day's headache,--the terrible headache of iced rum punch.”