There he was, as she entered the morning-room, striding up and down it impatiently. A hasty embrace, while they were yet uninterrupted, and Lord Winchester walked forward to shake hands with Mrs. Hildyard. "So, Frances," he whispered, when an opportunity, offered and others were in the room to draw off attention from them, "you are tiring already of your conquest?" Tiring of him! A faint blush upon her pure cheek, and a look of inquiry, formed her only answer. "It was unkind not to reply to my note, when I so earnestly urged it." "What note?" she asked. "The one I sent you yesterday." "I had no letter from you yesterday." "Think again, my love. James tells me he delivered it as usual into the hands of your own maid." "Then she never gave it me," answered Frances, earnestly. "Some negligence!" ejaculated Lord Winchester. But the visitors who had been present were leaving, and their conversation was interrupted. As soon as she was at liberty, Frances hastened to her room, and ringing for her maid, a chattering French girl, demanded if she had not received a note for her on the previous day. "Most certainly," answered the girl, jabbering on with her false accent, and occasionally introducing a word of her native language. "It came when you were out, mademoiselle, and I placed it here on your toilet-table." "Then where is it?" inquired Frances. "Mais--I supposed you took it," replied the attendant, looking puzzled; and she was beginning to scan the ground, as if thinking it might have fallen there, when Miss Louisa Hildyard entered the apartment, and the servant was dismissed. "I--I took the liberty, Frances," began Miss Hildyard, clearing her throat, and speaking in the mild, monotonous manner which distinguished her and her sister, "to open a letter yesterday which was addressed to you." The thoughts of Frances reverted to the lost note, and the impetuous flush of anger rose to her brow. Her answer was delivered in a tone of the utmost astonishment: "You--opened--a--letter--addressed--to--me!" was her exclamation, with a pause between every word. "I did," meekly replied Miss Louisa. "And you presumed--was it from here? Did you find it here?" reiterated Frances, pointing to the dressing-table. "It was--- I did," responded the elder lady, scarcely above a whisper, "and I am now come to converse--" But Frances, with a perfect torrent of passion, overwhelmed her words. "And how could you--how dared you break the seal of a letter which bore my address? how dare you presume to stand in my presence and assert it?" "The superscription was in Viscount Winchester's handwriting, and the seal bore his arms," was the placid reply. "A sufficient warranty for my proceeding, for I had suspected there was a private understanding going on between you, and deemed it my duty to look into it."