And, laughingly, that lady adjusted the silk on his fingers, and, drawing Lady Dora's trembling hand towards him, commenced the task of teaching them. Child's play is foolish for two who should not fall in love; for so much more is done in innocence, than the mature heart can calmly bear unmoved. People are thrown off their guard, and then some watchful sprite is sure to step in with his assistance. Lady Lysson taught them, and at last even Lady Dora laughingly joined in the caprice of a moment's childishness. Their fingers came in contact--(a thing much better avoided, where the woman's weakening heart needs every possible bulwark to keep out Love. He is very apt to glide into the citadel in a gentle pressure of thrilling joy; but if not accomplished the _first_ time, the besieged has nothing to fear; in these cases, "_ce n'est que le premier pas qui coute_")--and while puzzling unnecessarily over her silken entanglements, he found time to press her for another sitting for _Diane_ soon. "Let it be to-morrow--shall it, Lady Dora?" he asked, as Lady Lysson drew her attention elsewhere, to scold 'Tiney,' who was tearing the leaves of a book dropped on the floor. "Well, yes; to-morrow," uttered Lady Dora gently, as he held her hands imprisoned by the silken cord. She did not withdraw them, so he stooped, with the quiet gentleness peculiar to himself, and touched the prisoners with his lip. She started, but did not utter a word. "You are tired of our child's play," he said; "let me release your hands. Lady Lysson, a thousand thanks for your teaching; you did well in cautioning me against it with Lady Dora--I shall remember it!" And rising, a glance fell on her, and this was scarcely more than one of respect and interest: shaking Lady Lysson warmly by the hand, he bowed merely to the other, and said--"Then to-morrow, Lady Dora, I may expect you?" She bowed, and he quitted the room. "What an exceedingly awkward turn the conversation took!" cried Lady Lysson as he left. "It was a most painful thing that affair about his wife, which has ever appeared involved, to me, in some strange mystery. How was it, my dear? I asked Randolph about it before he quitted England, and he said Mr. Tremenhere was jealous of his own shadow; and this was all the satisfaction I received." It will be seen Lady Lysson was totally ignorant of the relationship existing between Minnie and Lady Dora. Lord Randolph had, for his own sake, as a suitor to the latter, hushed it up as much as possible. "There was something strange about it!" dropped from Lady Dora, with perfect self-possession; she was again herself.