In a letter Margaret received from her at this time, she mentioned that they had been surprised, at Paris, by a flying visit from Mr. Evan Conway. He was on his road to the Pyrenees; and had been disappointed of his travelling companion. Mr. Haveloc had arranged to go with him, and suddenly sent him an excuse, saying that some recent occurrences had rendered him unfit for society. "This tribute to the memory of your uncle, my dear Margaret, I am sure will please you, added Elizabeth. I always thought Mr. Haveloc's character no ordinary one; but this is a depth of feeling which we rarely meet in the present day. "He has started off alone for St. Petersburg, and has left a good many English mammas to conjecture whether he will bring home a Russian wife." Elizabeth added that the rest of the Conway family were in Germany, where they seemed likely to remain some time. Margaret pondered long over the intelligence contained in this letter. Was it solely grief for her uncle's loss that made Mr. Haveloc decline the society of his friend? Did no remorse for his falsehood to herself mingle with his regrets? Did he suffer half what she endured? She knew nothing, she should never know anything of his feelings. They were parted for ever; and, perhaps, as Elizabeth said, he might bring home a Russian wife. This idea cost her many tears, though she constantly repeated to herself that she had no longer any interest in his future. Mr. Warde received a favourable answer from Mrs. Fitzpatrick. From his account of Miss Capel, she felt assured of her own satisfaction in the arrangement. She only feared that so young a person would soon be wearied of the monotony of her residence. On this point, Margaret was sanguine. She had much pleasure in telling Mason that the day of her departure was fixed. Mason lifted up her eyes; even Ashdale was better than the place they were going to: "but it did not become her to complain." Margaret bought the costliest bracelet that the jeweller in S---- could furnish as an offering for Blanche before she left. "Accept it as a wedding present," she said, "I trust it may prove so, if it is for your happiness." Blanche was in raptures--she dearly loved trinkets, and a bracelet of the newest fashion glittering with precious stones, and costing more guineas than she ever possessed at a time, was almost enough to disturb her brain. She ran from room to room to show it to everybody; she put it on; she took it off and shut it in its morocco case. She embraced Margaret, she laughed, she waltzed, and finally was able to reply to Margaret's remark. "You dear creature--that is the kindest thing you could say! A wedding present! Yes! I will believe it; he has said nothing, but I understand what he means. Did you ever happen to observe his nose in profile?"