"It is about Cedric," she said abruptly--"that boy has got into trouble again?" Then Malcolm bowed his head. They were standing on the rug before the fire now, and at Malcolm's mute answer Elizabeth shivered slightly and held out her hands to the blaze as though she were physically cold. Malcolm leant for support against the mantel-piece, and watched her for a moment under his shading hand--if she had only seen that hungry, eloquent look! But Elizabeth's eyes were fixed on the fire. Poor Malcolm! never had she looked more beautiful to him: the black velvet gown suited her to perfection, and the antique Roman necklace she wore just fitted the full white throat. This was not the rustic owner of the white sun-bonnet, but a grand, imperial-looking Elizabeth. Malcolm felt as though he were fast losing self-control: his forehead grew clammy, and though he tried to speak--to break the embarrassing silence--no words would come; but Elizabeth, lost in her own sad thoughts, was oblivious of his emotion. "Dinah will be here directly," she observed presently; "she is engaged just now with a woman from the village, but she will not be long, I hope. I trust"--and here she looked at him anxiously--"that you have no bad news for us." "I am afraid it is not good," he replied evasively. "It has something to do with those odious Jacobis?" Again Malcolm bowed his head. "Cedric seems infatuated about them," she returned, with something of her old impetuosity, the words tripping each other up in the usual Elizabethan way. "We thought the man detestable--even Dinah could not tolerate him. Oh," interrupting herself, "what am I thinking about? you have come all this distance on our account, and I have never thought of your comfort--you have not dined, of course;" and Elizabeth's hand was on the bell, but he stopped her. "I have just had supper at the 'King's Arms,' where I have taken a bed; I want nothing, I assure you." "At the King's Arms'!" exclaimed Elizabeth. Then she suddenly flushed and bit her lip. She had forgotten--how could she suppose that anything would induce him to sleep under their roof again! Malcolm's manner, his painful air of consciousness, the deep melancholy in his eyes, told her plainly that his trouble was as fresh as ever. Elizabeth began to feel nervous; it was a relief to both of them when Mullins entered the room with the coffee. "At least, you will have a cup of coffee," she said with a little effort. "Mullins, will you put the tray down, and tell my sister that Mr. Herrick has come down to speak to us on business, and ask her not to keep him waiting." Malcolm did not refuse the coffee. As he took the cup in his hand he said in a low voice, "I hope Mr. Carlyon is well."