“Really, Miss Saville,” exclaimed Coleman, who had entered the room in time to overhear her speech, “I am shocked to find you comparing your respectable and ~257~~ revered guardian to a heathen Turk, and Frank Fairlegh, instead of reproving you for it, aiding, abetting, encouraging, and, to speak figuratively, patting you on the back.” “I'm sure, Freddy,” interrupted Mrs. Coleman, who had been aroused from one of her customary fits of absence by the last few words, “Mr. Fairlegh was doing nothing of the sort; he knows better than to think of such a thing. And if he didn't, do you suppose I should sit here and allow him to take such liberties? But I believe it's all your nonsense--and where you got such strange ideas I'm sure I can't tell; not out of Mrs. Trimmer's _Sacred History_, I'm certain, though you used to read it with me every Sunday afternoon when you were a good little boy, trying to look out of the window all the time, instead of paying proper attention to your books.” During the burst of laughter which followed this speech, and in which Miss Saville, after an ineffectual struggle to repress the inclination, out of respect to Mrs. Coleman, was fain to join, dinner was announced, and Coleman pairing off with the young lady, whilst I gave my arm to the old one, we proceeded to the dining-room. CHAPTER XXXIII -- WOMAN'S A RIDDLE “Let mirth and music sound the dirge of care, But ask thou not if happiness be there.” _The Lord of the Isles_. “And here she came... And sang to me the whole Of those three stanzas.” _The Talking Oak._ “Yet this is also true, that, long before, My heart was like a prophet to my heart, And told me I should love.” _Tennyson_. “DON'T you consider Fairlegh to be looking very thin and pale, Miss Saville?” inquired Coleman, when we joined the ladies after dinner, speaking with an air of such genuine solicitude, that any one not intimately acquainted with him must have imagined him in earnest. Miss Saville, who was completely taken in, answered innocently, “Indeed I have thought Mr. Fairlegh much altered since I had the pleasure of meeting him before”; ~258~~ then, glancing at my face with a look of unfeigned interest, which sent the blood bounding rapidly through my veins, she continued: “You have not been ill, I hope?” I was hastening to reply in the negative, and to enlighten her as to the real cause of my pale looks, when Coleman interrupted me by exclaiming:-- “Ah! poor fellow, it is a melancholy affair. In those pale cheeks, that wasted though still graceful form, and the weak, languid, and unhappy, but deeply interesting _tout ensemble_, you perceive the sad results of--am I at liberty to mention it?--of an unfortunate attachment.”