"You have been out in the grounds," she said, gently; "the evening is very pleasant." "Did you miss me, Lady Darrell--Elinor?" he asked, bending over her chair. He saw a warm blush rising in her cheeks, and in his heart he felt some little contempt for the conquest so easily made. "Did you miss me, Elinor?" he repeated. "You must let me call you Elinor--I think it is the sweetest name in all the world." It was almost cruel to trifle with her, for, although she was conventional to the last degree, and had but little heart, still what heart she had was all his. It was so easy to deceive her, too; she was so ready to believe in him and love him that her misplaced affection was almost pitiable. She raised her blue eyes to his; there was no secret in them for him. "I am very glad my name pleases you," she said; "I never cared much for it before." "But you will like it now?" he asked; and then bending over her chair, he whispered something that sent a warm, rosy flush over her face and neck. Every one noticed the attention he paid her; Lady Hampton saw it, and disliked him more than ever. Lord Aynsley saw it, and knew that all hope of winning the beautiful widow was over for him. People made their comments upon it, some saying it would be an excellent match, for Sir Oswald had been much attached to Captain Langton, others thinking that Lady Darrell, with her fair face and her large fortune, might have done better. There was something, too, in the captain's manner which puzzled simple-hearted people--something of fierce energy, which all the softness of word and look could not hide. "There is not much doubt of what will be the next news from Darrell Court," said one to another. No one blamed the young widow for marrying again, but there was a general expression of disappointment that she had not done better. Those dwelling in the house foresaw what was about to take place. Aubrey Langton became the widow's shadow. Wherever she went he followed her; he made love to her with the most persevering assiduity, and it seemed to be with the energy of a man who had set himself a task and meant to go through with it. He also assumed certain airs of mastership. He knew that he had but to speak one word, and Darrell Court would be his. He spoke in a tone of authority, and the servants had already begun to look upon him as their master. Silent, haughty, and reserved, Pauline Darrell stood aside and watched--watched with a kind of silent triumph which filled Miss Hastings with wonder--watched and spoke no word--allowed her contempt and dislike to be seen in every action, yet never uttered one word--watched like a beautiful, relentless spirit of fate.