"Bah! there is no truth in it. I never tyrannise," said Harriet, laughing. "But as I am not so timid, I will try and sing you something. Mr. Gage, you like Italian music. Have you ever heard this?" She sang beautifully. Margaret was entranced. Mr. Gage came round to the piano to look at the name of the song. It was 'Senza pace, senza speme;' and on the top was written, as if with a coarse lead pencil:-- "Harriet Conway, from Lord Raymond." Now Margaret had seen Harriet busy writing something on the song with a pencil, a few minutes before she had sat down to sing, and she could not help wondering at the perseverance with which she contrived to teaze Mr. Gage. It need not be said that Lord Raymond had never given her the song, although from his long intimacy with her family there would have been no great crime if he had. Mr. Gage, who had taken the song from the stand, dropped it again as if it had burnt his fingers. "Is it not a beautiful thing?" said Harriet looking up at Mr. Gage. "He has such a taste for music!" "Who has, my dear?" asked Captain Gage. "Lord Raymond, uncle." "Has he, indeed?--I never knew that before," said Captain Gage. "Why he has never any music at his house, unless there is a very large party." "He has no wife, you know, Uncle Gage, and he cannot play the piano himself." "He must marry a good musician, then," said Captain Gage. "I don't know anything that more contributes to the cheerfulness of a family circle than a little good music." "So Lord Raymond seems to think," said Mr. Gage, in a low voice to Harriet. "Yes. Nothing so very first-rate though," said Harriet, thinking of Lucy, who played in a pleasing style, but nothing more, on the harp and piano. "Oh! you are too modest," said Mr. Gage. "Thank you," said Harriet laughing. "Do you think me then such a very good player?" "Can you never be serious?" said Mr. Gage, turning away reproachfully. Harriet laughed more merrily than before at the tone of this last remark. Margaret watched them earnestly. Surely, she thought, this last evening something will be said, something will occur, to bring about an understanding. Harriet will surely not be able to keep up this appearance of indifference to the last. But the tapers were brought in, people wished each other good night, and Harriet touched Mr. Gage's fingers, and bade him good bye, as if she should see him to-morrow. And the next day, before he had left his room, she was on her way to join her friends at Wardenscourt. CHAPTER XIV. Her words were like a stream of honey fleeting, The which doth softly trickle from the hive, Able to melt the hearer's heart unweeting And eke to make the dead again alive. * * * * * Much like an angel in all form and fashion. SPENSER.