Had she mistaken his conduct in that particular, she would have demanded an explanation. Nothing need have deterred her from doing so. She had heard from some officious friend of his attentions to Mrs. Maxwell Dorset, whose memory he frequently cursed, but never with such fervour as now. And her delicacy prevented her alluding to the cause of her resentment. Anger succeeded here to distress. If she could cast him off for an affair which took place before he had become acquainted with her, she certainly was not worth the regret which he could not, however, entirely stifle. If her love could be snapped like a thread the moment she entertained any cause of displeasure against him, it was not worth preserving. It was the most singular, certainly, the most unjustifiable step he had ever heard of. However, he had nothing to do but to acquiesce. It was not his part to overcome her unreasonable scruples. No! he thanked Heaven, he could take the matter as coolly as she appeared to do. Her commands were certainly expressed with the utmost brevity--he supposed she did not consider him worth the waste of many words. Some ladies could dismiss a lover with more ease than a lap-dog. He commended her decision, and there was an end of the matter. Having come to these reflections, he threw himself with great dignity into a corner of the carriage, and attempted to go to sleep. Not succeeding in this attempt, the next best thing was to discover that he was going at a snail's pace, and to fly in a passion with the post-boys; and to work himself up into a fever of excitement that increased every mile of the way. Suddenly he recollected the Will that he had induced Mr. Grey to make--a Will that deprived Margaret of what would have undoubtedly been her inheritance. How little had he ever thought that any circumstance could occur which would lead him to regret such an arrangement. Now it must be cancelled without delay--a new Will made. Good Heaven, if he should be too late! And he let down the front glasses, and bestowed another exordium on the postillions. At last he reached Ashdale. It was one o'clock in the morning; the doors were opened as soon as the horses' feet were heard, a plain proof that he had been anxiously expected. He threw himself from the carriage and hurried up to the servant in the hall. "Mr. Grey--" "He is very ill, Sir; not expected to live till morning."