"This estrangement makes me uncomfortable," proceeded Miss Beauclerc, ignoring the rest. "Papa keeps saying, 'What is come to Henry Arkell that he is never at the deanery?' and then I invent white stories, about believing that your studies take up your time. I miss you every day; I do, Henry; I miss your companionship; I miss your voice at the piano; I miss your words in speaking to me. But here comes your friend George Prat, for that's the echo of old Griffin's door. I know the different sounds of the doors in the grounds. Good night, Harry: I must go in." She bent towards him to put her hand in his, and he--he was betrayed out of his propriety and his good manners. He caught her to his heart, and held her there; he kissed her face with his fervent lips. "Forgive me, Georgina," he murmured, as she released herself. "It is the first and the last time." "I will forgive you for this once," cried the careless girl; "but only think of the scandal, had anybody come up: my staid mamma would go into a fit. It is what _he_ has never done," she added, in a deeper tone. "And why your head should run upon him I cannot tell. Mine doesn't." Henry wrung her hand. "But for him, Georgina, I should think you cared for me. Not that the case would be less hopeless." Miss Beauclerc rang a peal on the door-bell, and was immediately admitted--whilst Henry Arkell walked forward to join George Prattleton, his heart a compound of sweet and bitter, and his brain in a mazy dream. But we left Mr. Fauntleroy in a dream by the side of his fire, and by no means a pleasant one. He sat there he did not know how long, and was at length interrupted by one of his servants. "You are wanted, sir, if you please." "Wanted now! Who is it?" "The Rev. Mr. Prattleton, sir, and one or two more. They are in the drawing-room, and the fire's gone out." "He has come bothering about that tithe case," grumbled Mr. Fauntleroy to himself. "I won't see him: let him come at a proper time. My compliments to Mr. Prattleton, Giles, but I am deep in assize business, and cannot see him." Giles went out and came in again. "Mr. Prattleton says they must see you, sir, whether or no. He told me to say, sir, that it is about the cause that's on, Carr and Carr." Mr. Fauntleroy proceeded to his drawing-room, and there he was shut in for some time. Whatever the conference with his visitors may have been, it was evident, when he came out, that for him it had borne the deepest interest, for his whole appearance was changed; his manners were excited, his eyes sparkling, and his face was radiant. They all left the house together, but the lawyer's road did not lie far with theirs. He stopped at the lodgings occupied by Serjeant Wrangle, and knocked. A servant-maid came to the door. "I want to see Serjeant Wrangle," said Mr. Fauntleroy, stepping in. "You can't sir. He is gone to bed." "I must see him for all that," returned Mr. Fauntleroy.