“I felt almost certain it was so,” continued Alice; “but I most earnestly hope, for his sake, that I was mistaken; if not, only conceive how wretched this engagement will make him!” “Judging by my own feelings, when I fancied you had accepted the irresistible cotton-spinner,” returned Coverdale, “I should say that Prometheus, who had a perennial vulture making ‘no end’ of a meal on his liver (which I take to be simply a metaphorical method of stating that the unfortunate Titan was afflicted with hepatic disease), was, by comparison, ‘a gentleman who lived at home at ease.’” “I used to fancy sometimes,” pursued Alice, “that Kate returned his affection; but she was so reserved, and her manner was always so calm and self-possessed, that it was impossible to judge, with any degree of certainty, what her feelings might be. However, this settles the point so far as she is concerned; if she had really cared about him, she could never have consented to marry Mr. Crane.” “Hum! well I don’t know that,” returned Harry, meditatively; “it is not all women who have such simple, true, loving hearts as you, my own darling; and a pupil of Arabella Crofton’s may very well be capable of loving one man and marrying another.” “Why, how came you to know anything about Miss Crofton, Harry?” exclaimed Alice, her curiosity being thoroughly roused by her husband’s second allusion to some previous acquaintance with her cousin’s _ci-devant_ governess. “I met her in Italy, if you must know,” returned Coverdale “She lived as governess in a family where I visited, and I saw a good deal of her at one time.” There was something so odd and conscious in his manner of speaking, that Alice exclaimed, “She fell in love with you, I am certain of it. Come, confess now that I am right.” “Do you think that every woman must needs be as foolish as yourself, you silly child?” was the uncomplimentary reply. “I can assure you, Miss Crofton is as utterly unlike you in tastes, habits, and opinions, as she is in person; and that is a pretty considerable assertion, I take it. And now it is time for you to get ready for our last drive in the Bois de Boulogne, and I must go out and buy a clean pair of gloves; so for ten minutes I shall wish you an affectionate farewell.” Thus saying, Harry quitted the apartment; and Alice, going to prepare for her drive, forgot, for the time, her husband’s mysterious intimacy with Miss Crofton--it occurred to her afterwards, indeed, when----, but we must not anticipate. The next morning saw them _en route_. As they were about to embark at Boulogne, a sensation was created, at the hotel at which they waited till the tide served for the packet to start, by the arrival of a travelling carriage drawn by four horses, with a lady inside, and her _soubrette_, and an outlandish, courier-like creature in the rumble.