"Why, you know, now, the truth is in every one's mouth--quite the talk of the day. How it was known that he was married, I cannot tell--but my maid told me--and all my partners were talking of it last night. I told young Philips I would never waltz with him again, if he did not find some innocent way of murdering Mrs. Beauclerc, and bringing Lucy's love affair to a happy conclusion. And the best of it is, young Philips himself has been as bad, for he has been wandering up and down the Circus like a mad thing, for this month past, trying to catch a sight of Miss Foster, and contented if he only saw her shadow pass the window." Here they all laughed, and Mr. Stokes chimed in. "What is that story about Miss Lucy Villars and Mr. Beauclerc? I heard something of it at the hunt, from young farmer Sykes--but I thought it might be delicate ground." Mabel did not wait to hear the answer to this last remark--for when the sisters so coolly deserted the standard of delicacy, she felt she had no right to interfere; and blushing, more for them than for Lucy, she left the room, rather too precipitately--for Mr. Stokes, having, the minute before, whispered a compliment, which she had been too occupied even to hear, he attributed her flight to the sudden admiration she was conscious she was exciting. As the door closed upon her, he remembered how often he had joined Caroline and Maria, in laughing over the eccentricities of their country cousin, whom he had never before seen--and, fearing a repetition of the same remarks, or their ridicule, if he refused to join in them, he took up his hat, and rapidly apologising for having made such a complete "visitation," he wished them good morning, and departed, without waiting to hear more than he could help of Miss Lovelace's answer to his question. Mabel had no sooner escaped from the drawing-room, than she hurried to the study. Her first glance told her that Lucy had been exerting herself beyond her strength to appear cheerful and happy, for she looked pale and wearied; and no sooner did she see her enter, than she went to her, folded her arms round her, and laid her head upon her shoulder--then, raising it again, that she might look her in the face, and thank her for all her kindness to her, she burst into hysteric sobs. Mabel drew her away, led her to her own room, and caressed and soothed her again into tranquillity, when she made her go to bed, and then stopped and praised her first day's effort so warmly, that Lucy almost smiled her thanks. She then returned to the study, where Mr. Villars was waiting, in some alarm. Taking her hand, he enquired, anxiously-- "How is my child?" "She is much better, dear uncle--but she is very weak, you know, yet--and her spirits are uncertain--though she tried to exert them, lest you might think her dull. I shall give her entirely to you to take care of now."