"It may be so," said Laura, "yet unless they are decidedly at enmity, the young man cannot avoid seeing you." Soon after the supper tray was brought into the room, and on its being announced to the gentlemen, St. Aubyn came to the library, accompanied by Mr. Mordaunt and Mr. O'Brien, the latter of whom he introduced to the ladies. St. Aubyn looked pale, and his manners had lost some of its usual composure. O'Brien was a grave, respectable old man, of Irish extraction, but bred in a convent abroad, and speaking English but imperfectly. "I will return to the study," said St. Aubyn, "and see once more if I can persuade Lord De Montfort to take some refreshment. You remember De Montfort, Miss Cecil?--He is my other guest, but he pleads fatigue, and disinclination to see any one, and will not be prevailed on to take even a glass of wine. I will once more endeavour to induce him to join you." "Indeed, my Lord," said Ellen, "I hope he will: if he be fatigued, he must the more need refreshment." "My love," said St. Aubyn, "will you have the goodness to order beds to be prepared for Lord De Montfort and Mr. O'Brien. They remain here this night." He then left the room, and Ellen ringing the bell, desired Mrs. Bayfield might be sent to her dressing-room, whither a few minutes after she went herself to give orders respecting the beds. As she passed the study door, which was not quite close, she distinctly heard St. Aubyn say:-- "For Heaven's sake, De Montfort, be persuaded; do not wrong me so cruelly! Why condemn me on mere appearances?" Ellen passed hastily on, and heard St. Aubyn close the door with some violence, warned perhaps by the light she carried that some one might overhear him. In her dressing-room she met Mrs. Bayfield, and was instantly struck with her pale countenance and agitated appearance. "My good Bayfield," said Ellen, "I sent for you to request you would see chambers prepared for the strange gentlemen; but you look ill, pray go to bed: Jane shall go with the housemaids and see that all is right." "I am not ill, my Lady," said Mrs. Bayfield; "but a glimpse I caught of Lord De Montfort just now, and the tone of his voice, reminded me of so many painful events--" She paused, sighed, and the tears ran down her cheeks as she added: "I wish he had not come here; I wish he was gone back to Spain; I cannot bear to see him." "His likeness to your late lady affects you perhaps, my good friend?" said Ellen. "Oh, no, Madam; it is not that; he is like her to be sure; but it is not _that_. I feel so uneasy when I see him.--He does not love my Lord; and yet he used to love him. But forgive me, Madam; I forget myself: will your Ladyship please to give your orders now?"