“What! If he be not always tender to my poor dear child, he must be a wretch indeed.” “O no, no, Harriet! How shall I ever make you understand?” cried Aurelia. “Never for a moment is he other than kind and gentle. It is generally like a father, only more courtly and deferential, but sometimes something seems to come over him, and he is--oh! I cannot tell you--what I should think a lover would be,” faltered Aurelia, colouring crimson, and hiding her face on her sister’s shoulder, as old habits of confidence, and need of counsel and sympathy were obliterating all the warnings of last night. “You silly little chit! Why don’t you encourage these advances? You ought to be charmed, not frightened.” “They would ch---I should like it if it were not so like two men in one, the one holding the other back.” Harriet laughed at this fancy, and Aurelia was impelled to defend it. “Indeed, Harriet, it is really so. There will be whispers--oh, such whispers!”--she sunk her voice and hid her face again--“close to my ear, and--endearments--while the grave voice sounds at the other end of the room, and then I long for light. I swooned for fright the first time, but I am much more used to it now.” “This is serious,” said Harriet, with unwonted gravity. “Do you really think that there is another person in the room?” “I do not feel as if it could be otherwise, and yet it is quite impossible.” “I would not bear it,” said her sister. “You ought not to bear it. How do you know that it is not some vile stratagem? It might even be the blackamoor!” “No, no, Harriet! I know better than that. It is quite impossible. Besides, I am sure of this--that the hands that wedded me are the same hands that caress me,” she added, with another blushing effort, “strong but delicate hands, rather hard inside, as with the bridle. I noticed it because once I thought his hands soft with doing nothing and being shut up.” “That convinces me the more, then, there is some strange imposition practised upon you,” said Harriet, anxiously. “Oh, no!” said Aurelia, inconsistently; “Mr. Belamour is quite incapable of doing anything wrong by me. I cannot let you have such shocking notions. He told me I must be patient and trust him, though I should meet with much that was strange and inexplicable.” “This is trusting him much too far. They are playing on your inexperience, I am sure. If you were not a mere child, you would see what a shocking situation this is.” “I wish I had not told you,” said Aurelia, tears rushing into her eyes. “I ought not! He bade me be cautious how I talked, and you have made me quite forget!” “Did he so? Then it is evident that he fears disclosure! Something must be done. Why not write to our father?” “I could not! He would call it a silly fancy.” “And it might embroil him with my Lady,” added Harriet. “We must devise another mode.” “You will not--must not tell Mr. Arden,” exclaimed Aurelia, peremptorily.