For Manners it was a weary time! There appeared to be no end to the succession of dishes, and he impatiently waited for the time when the signal would be given which would give him unbounded joy or doom him to perpetual misery. To him, at least, the time dragged wearily along, the tunes were lifeless, the courses were inordinately long, and it was a positive relief to him when Nicholas rose up again and pronounced a benediction, equally as long and dreary as the opening grace. The feast was over now, and as the guests defiled out of the room, another air took the place of the one just concluded. As for Manners, all his efforts were concentrated on watching Dorothy's every movement. He ceased to play, for he had not the heart to continue, and, without making any pretence to be playing his instrument, he laid his lute down and watched with eager eyes. He noticed that his rival sat by her side, nor did she repel him. When she arose he rose too, and together they started to go out of the chamber. Dorothy lingered; Stanley lingered too. What, O what could she be lingering for? In his anxiety Manners stood up to see the better. His pulse moved in jerks and bounds; his heart rose to his throat, and he gasped for very breath. The lively tune pursued the even tenour of its way; the burly form of the leader screened him well from view, and that functionary was too much engrossed in the execution of the piece to remark the peculiar conduct of his companion. Dorothy lingered to look at the pictures she knew so well; but Sir Edward tarried at her side. It was evident he was not at all disposed to leave her, and Dorothy herself at last gave up all hopes of his doing so. Sir Edward said something to her, but the noise drowned the sound of his voice, and Manners could not hear what it was he had said, but the next moment she permitted Stanley to lead her towards the door. The poor minstrel's heart sank at the sight. Was this, then, the fulfilment of Lettice's promise? Had he so misjudged the character of his beloved? He dismissed the thought, for he could not believe it even then. No, it was not so. Dorothy paused and turned back. Manners involuntarily stood up and followed her with his eyes. Margaret and her betrothed were behind, and to them she went. His spirits revived again. She laughingly raised her fan and pointed to the carving on the wall. Was the black knot on? He gasped for breath as he anxiously looked to see. It surely was not there. At all events he could not see it, but then his eyes might be deceiving him, for she was at the further end of the room. Ah! would she only drop the fan which was held up in her trembling hand, and then--