She longed--oh! how she longed--to warn Marion of the thorns and rugged ways of the path which looked so fair, with Love beckoning in the distance, and smiling at the feet that stumbled in striving to reach his temple, in which were many altars--some of triumph, most of sacrifice; but she had not the heart to rend aside the veil. She gathered up her sister's radiant tresses, kissed again the rosy cheek, and withdrew to her own little room. The moon shone through the latticed windows, chequering the objects it illuminated: she extinguished her light, and looked out into the avenue. Frankfort and Ormsby were still there. On the right and left were the wagons: the _lager_ consisted of some twenty people on either side, but all was noiseless, save the pacing of a solitary sentinel, who waited for Frankfort to go the midnight rounds. The latter hurried up the avenue, and bid the man proceed, saying he would follow; and then she heard the two officers exchange a friendly "Good night." "Remember," said Frankfort. "I will," replied Ormsby; "you are right, and I am wrong, my good fellow." The rest was lost to Eleanor, who retired from the window. Another blazing day! Mrs Daveney established herself with Marion and Mrs Trail in the cool dining-room; Eleanor was assisting Mr Trail in the school; Frankfort was displaying his success in engineering to his host, and was planning work for Ormsby and himself. Marion was more listless than usual, laying down her work--sad, stupid work it was--coarse frock-making for those "wretched little Hottentots"--and lifting up the dark moreen blinds to see if thunder-clouds were gathering. "No; there were streaks in the sky like great white plumes, there would be a breeze in the evening, and she should have her ride." "Sit down, Marion," said Mrs Daveney, rather impatiently; "how restless you are! it is impossible to write while you are wandering about the room." Marion sat down, her cheeks in a glow, and stitched away in nervous haste. Her mother noted all this. At the early dinner all the party met again. There was some change of seats, in consequence of Mr Daveney resuming his accustomed place at his table. Mrs Daveney's keen eye remarked that Ormsby was not at Marion's side as usual, and then, to her surprise, she saw a glance of intelligence pass between Frankfort and Eleanor. She recognised the meaning of this at once. The ride was again talked of, and Mr Daveney yielded to Marion's entreaty "only for an hour's canter in the cool of the day." Eleanor consented to go; that decided her father.