"You must come and see us again, Miss Etheridge," said the countess, graciously. "Lilian has extorted a solemn promise to that effect," said Leycester, as he shook hands with Mr. Etheridge. Then he held out his hand to Stella, but in spite of prudence he could not part from her till the last moment. "Let me take you to your carriage," he said, "and see that you are well wrapped up." The countess's eyes grew cold, and she looked beyond them rather than at them, and Stella murmured something about trouble, but he laughed softly, and drawing her hand on his arm led her away. All the room saw it, and a sort of thrill ran through them; it was an attention he paid only to such old and honored friends as the old countess and Lenore. "Oh, why did you come?" whispered Stella, as they reached the hall. "The countess looked so angry." He smiled. "I could not help it. There, not a word more. Now let me wrap this round you;" and, of course, as he wrapped it round her, he managed to convey a caress in the touch of his hand. "Remember, my darling," he murmured, almost dangerously loud, as he put her into the fly. "To-morrow at six." Then he stood bareheaded, and the last Stella saw was the light of tender, passionate love burning in his dark eyes. She sank back in the furthermost corner of the fly in silent, rapt reflection. Was it all a dream? Was it only a trick of fancy, or did she feel his passionate kisses on her lips and face entangled in her hair. Had she really heard Lord Leycester Wyndward declare that he loved her? "Are you asleep, Stella?" said her uncle, and she started. "No, not asleep, dear," she said. "But--but tired and so happy!" The word slipped out before she was aware of it. But the unsuspecting recluse did not notice the thrill of joy in the tone of her reply. "Ah, yes, just so, I daresay. It was something new and strange to you. It is a beautiful place. By the way, what do you think of Lady Lenore?" Stella started. "Oh, she is very beautiful, and as wonderful as you said, dear," she murmured. "Yes, isn't she. She will make a grand countess, will she not?" "What!" said Stella. He smiled. "Wonderful creatures women are, to be sure. For the life of me I could not tell in exact words how the countess managed to give me the impression, but she did give it me, and unmistakably." "What impression!" said Stella. He laughed. "That matters were settled between Lord Leycester and Lady Lenore, and that they were to be married. They will make a fine match, will they not?" "Yes--no--I mean yes," said Stella, and a happy smile came into her eyes as she leant back. No, it was not Lady Lenore he was going to marry--not the great beauty with the golden hair and violet eyes, but a little mere nobody, called Stella Etheridge. She leant back and hugged her secret to her bosom and caressed it. The fly trundled along after the manner of flys, and stopped at last at the white gate in the lane.