"Nonsense, man! you shut yourself up with your mysterious portrait, till you become perfectly gloomy; it must have a deep interest for you." "You mistake; 'tis an altar-piece which I am completing to order--a Madonna and child." "Then, why cover it up so mysteriously?" "We artists are jealous of our unfinished works being criticised; 'tis, however, not _that_ which would detain me to-night, but another claim." "Pray, set it aside, and accompany us, Mr. Tremenhere," said Lady Ripley, graciously; Lord Randolph's evident friendship for him, stamped him above what he was before, in her eyes--he still hesitated, when Lady Dora looked up, as if glancing at the clock on the mantelpiece, and almost imperceptibly, 'twas so quickly done, her glance crossed his. "Then I will do as you _command_," he said, bowing to Lady Ripley; but her daughter felt his eye was upon her, and the _command_, accentuated for her ear alone. "We can perhaps spare you the trouble of going to the theatre, if you are engaged," cried Lady Ripley. "Dora, we may as well drive there ourselves." "I shall not leave home to-day, mamma," was the reply. "But you know, my dear, I _must_ call upon the Montagus at four." "Lady Lysson will willingly accompany you; I know she too purposes a visit to them." "But your resolution is sudden, Dora; to-day you promised to go with me at four." "My head aches," she answered coldly; "pray excuse me." "Oh! if that be the case," replied her ladyship, "I can urge no more; you had better lie down, my dear child, and prepare yourself for the evening's fatigue." "No, thank you, mamma; with your permission I shall remain here--I have a letter to write." She never once looked up, but a man the least vain might have fancied, as Tremenhere did, that "the morrow" of the _bal masqué_, was presented to his view, especially after what Lord Randolph had said about his returning with the ticket for the theatre. Making their adieux, the gentlemen left with the understanding that one or both should return, after calling at the _Français_ to secure the box. For a moment Tremenhere hesitated how to act. He asked himself whether his conduct was right towards his friend--the title he gave him in his heart decided him. "She is unworthy of him," he said; "'tis an act of kindness to break off this marriage." And, consequently at four, he called with the ticket. Lady Dora had been schooling her heart, and received him with perfect composure, much regretting all the trouble he had taken; and she sat with an unfinished letter before her, and the pen between her fingers, as though expecting him to take leave. He read her as an open leaf in a book; and the want of all candour in her disposition made him more than ever resolved to bend her. Every day she had become more warped since he had first seen her; even when he and Minnie had been residing at Chiswick, she could be capable of a generous action; now, not one--she was the world's child!