Mrs. Raby had something of the tragedy queen in her appearance. She was tall and dignified in person. Her black full eyes were melancholy--her brow shadowing them over had a world of thought and feeling in its sculpture-like lines. The lower part of her face harmonized, though something of pride lurked about her beautiful mouth--her voice was melodious, but deep-toned. Her manners had not the ease of the well-bred Lady Cecil--something of the outcast was imprinted upon them, which imparted consciousness, reserve, and alternate timidity and haughtiness. There was nothing embarrassed, however, in her mien, and she asked at once for Elizabeth with obvious impatience. She heard that she was gone with regret. The praises Lady Cecil almost involuntarily showered on her late guest at once dissipated this feeling; and caused her, with all the frankness natural to her, to unfold at once the object of her visit--the parentage of the orphan--the discovery of her niece. Lady Cecil clasped her hands in a transport, which was not all joy. There was so much of wonder, almost of disbelief, at the strange tale--had a fairy's wand operated the change, it had not been more magical in her eyes. Heaven's ways were vindicated--all of evil vanished from the scene--her friend snatched from ignominy and crime, to be shrined for ever in their hearts and love. She poured out these feelings impetuously. Mrs. Raby was well acquainted with Alithea's story, and was familiar with Gerard Neville's conduct; all that she now heard was strange indeed. She did not imbibe any of Lady Cecil's gladness, but much of her eagerness. It became of paramount importance in her mind to break at once the link between Elizabeth and her guardian, before the story gained publicity, and the name of Raby became mingled in a tale of horror and crime, which, to the peculiar tone of Mrs. Raby's mind, was singularly odious and disgraceful. No time must be lost--Elizabeth must be claimed--must at once leave the guilty and tainted one, while yet her name received no infection; or she would be disowned for ever by her father's family. When Lady Cecil learned Mrs. Raby's intention of proceeding to London to see her niece, she resolved to go also, to act as mediator, and to soften the style of the demands made, even while she persuaded Elizabeth to submit to them. She expressed her intention, and the ladies agreed to travel together. Both were desirous of further communication. Lady Cecil wished to interest Mrs. Raby still more deeply in her matchless kinswoman's splendid qualities of heart and mind; while Mrs. Raby felt that her conduct must be founded on the character and worth of her niece; even while she was more convinced, at every minute, that no half measures would be permitted by Oswi Raby, and others of their family and connexion, and that Elizabeth's welfare depended on her breaking away entirely from her present position, and throwing herself unreservedly upon the kindness