a Tremenhere, but a quiet, placid affection, much more like a _hothouse_ friendship, than actual love, riper than an ordinary out-of-door feeling of that genus. The moment he heard that she was positively a wife, he choked down a little sigh, and from that instant she became the wife of one he called friend--only a being to be much respected, and served in every way in his power; and it was strange that Tremenhere, with all his jealousy, so thoroughly read and appreciated the other's character, that not the slightest feeling of that kind crossed his mind, on his and Minnie's account. They met as brother and sister might have done; and Tremenhere looked on and smiled, as Skaife clasped her hands--an action he could not have borne from any other; for he had the purest, warmest, Spanish blood in his veins, not one drop of his father's calm English--he was all his mother's child. It would be impossible to give an adequate idea of the fury of Juvenal, when he discovered that he and Dalby had arrived just an hour too late to prevent Minnie's marriage. Dalby was bitterness itself, and in every way fostered the feeling against the delinquents. Thus he made himself agreeable to Juvenal, and _secured_ a footing at Gatestone; as he felt rather uncertain how Marmaduke Burton might receive him, on his being made acquainted with the discomfiture of himself and partisans, and the good generalship of Tremenhere. But Burton could not afford to lose such a man as Dalby; though he blamed him in no measured terms, still, in his heart, he knew how difficult it was to daunt or overthrow his cousin. He accused himself more than any one else, for leaving the spot, and thus losing so great a battery against the enemy as his own cunning would have proved. Now this battle was lost, there only remained one thing to him--revenge; and this pale-faced spectre haunted his every thought.