Her last words struck him rather oddly, but he attributed them to her nervousness and embarrassment; and, fearful of increasing these, he left her, as she desired. And for the next quarter of an hour, till the maid came for her, Eugenia never took her eyes from the path down which Beauchamp had disappeared. "I shall never see him again," she said to herself; "never, never. I must not. He must not break his word for me. Oh, I hope--I do hope I shall not live much longer." When she got back to the hotel, Eugenia found the Dalrymples both out. Mr Dalrymple she knew was off for the day on some expedition; but his wife, she found on inquiry, had left word for her that she would be in in half an hour. So Eugenia went up to her own room, and sitting down, tried to decide what was best to do. She only saw two things clearly,-- she must not risk seeing Beauchamp again, and she must confide in Mrs Dalrymple. "There is no help for it," she said to herself. "Even if I told her nothing, she is sure to meet him, and she could not but suspect something. It would never do to let her find it out for herself. Why, Roma Eyrecourt is her cousin! No, I _must_ trust her; and I must get her to let me go home at once. I cannot stay here,--I cannot." Mrs Dalrymple, returning from her walk, was met by a request that she would at once go to Miss Laurence's room. She felt a little startled. "What is the matter? Miss Laurence is not ill, surely?" she said to her maid, who was watching for her with Eugenia's message. The young woman, a comparative stranger, answered that she did not know; she had not thought Miss Laurence looking very well when she came in, but she had not complained. Eugenia's face, however, confirmed her friend's fears. "You are ill, my dear child," she exclaimed at once. "Have you got cold again, do you think? You were looking so well this morning." "I am not ill,--truly I am not," replied Eugenia. "But, dear Mrs Dalrymple, I wanted to see you as soon as you came in, to ask you to be so very, very kind as to let me go home at once,--to-day if possible." "Go home to-day! My dear Eugenia, it is out of the question. You must be ill," said Mrs Dalrymple, considerably perplexed, and half-inclined to think the girl's brain was affected. "No, no; it isn't that. Oh, Mrs Dalrymple, I can't bear to tell you! I have never spoken of it to any one,--only to one person at least," she said, correcting herself, as the remembrance of her conversations with Gerald returned to her mind. "But I am sure I can trust you, and you will understand. It is--it is because Captain Chancellor is here that I want to go." "My poor child!" said Mrs Dalrymple, very tenderly, drawing Eugenia nearer her as she spoke; and though she said no more, the girl saw how mistaken she had been in imagining that no one had guessed her secret, and a painful flush of shame rose to her brow at the thought. Then, after a moment's pause, her friend spoke again.