"And you accepted such a proposal?" exclaimed Mrs Dalrymple, indignantly, for, after all, "blood is thicker than water," and the imagined insult to her kinswoman, of such treatment, struck home. "No, oh, no; of course not," replied Eugenia, eagerly. "That is what makes me want to go. I had not time--we were interrupted--I could not make him understand that such a thing was impossible,--impossible in every sense,--for him,--for me. Could I, do you think, marry any man who, for my sake, had broken his word to another woman,--had perhaps broken _another_ woman's heart? Oh, no, no. You do not think I could? I would rather die!" "And do you think he really meant it?" questioned Mrs Dalrymple. "Certainly I have not seen much of him of late years, but I used to know him well, and I must say it is not the _sort_ of thing I should have imagined him doing. He must be either a better or a worse man than I have supposed--possibly both." Eugenia did not reply to the last observation: perhaps she did not hear it. But she answered Mrs Dalrymple's question. "I do think he meant it. And I think he will continue to mean it unless it is at once discouraged," she said; "at once, before he has time to do anything rash with regard to Miss Eyrecourt. It will not be enough for me to refuse to see him--I must go away. While I stay here, any unlucky chance might bring us together again, like this morning. And I cannot trust myself, now that he knows--for he _does_ know," she turned her face away, "that--that I do care for him, that I would make any sacrifice for him except doing wrong, or letting him do wrong. Though, indeed, I must not boast: no one knows how hard it is not to do wrong, till one is tried." "My poor child," said Mrs Dalrymple, quite as tenderly now as at the beginning of the conversation. And then she added, "I wonder what we should do. I wish Henry were back." "When do you think he will be back?" asked Eugenia, influenced not so much by her friend's wifely belief in Mr Dalrymple's diplomatic powers as by her own anxiety to obtain his approval of her at once leaving Nunswell. "I don't know. Not before evening," replied her friend. "And something must be done--should be done before post-time," said Eugenia. "He said he would call to see me; would it do for me to write a note to be given him when he comes? It will be so difficult to say it. Oh dear, oh dear!" She got up from her seat, and walked to the window and back again, her hands clasped, in restless misery. There came a knock at the door. "A gentleman to see Miss Laurence, if you please, ma'am," said Mrs Dalrymple's Bertha, importantly. "This is his card. He asked for the young lady staying with you, ma'am." Mrs Dalrymple took the card mechanically, and glanced at the name as if there were still any possibility of mistake. "Captain Chancellor," the two words stared her in the face, and down in the corner in little letters--"203rd (East Woldshire) Regiment."