"That's a good girl! It isn't too big! I can carry both of them. Keep up your spirits, Stel!" he added, smiling encouragingly, as he stole off with the bag. The warning was not altogether unnecessary, for Stella, when she came down stairs and found the old man standing before his easel, his white locks stirred by the light wind which came through the open window, felt very near tears. It was a great blot on her happiness that she could not go to him and throw her arms round his neck and say, "Uncle, to-day I am to be married to Lord Leycester; give me your blessing!" As it was she went up to him and kissed him with more than her usual caressing tenderness. "How quietly happy you always are, dear," she said, with a little tremulous undertone in her voice. "You will always be happy while you have your art, uncle." "Eh!" he said, patting her arm, and letting his eye wander over her face. "Yes, art is long, life is short, Stella. Happy! yes; but I like to have you as well as my art. Two good things in life should make a man content." "You have Frank, too," she said, as she poured out his coffee and drew him to the table. Frank came in and breakfast proceeded. They were all very silent; the old man rapt in dreams, as usual--the two young ones stilled by the weight of their guilty secret. Once or twice Frank pressed Stella's feet under the table encouragingly, and when they rose and Stella went to the window, he followed her and whispered: "Good news, Stel!" She turned her eyes upon him. "I've just learned that the fellow Adelstone has gone to London. I was half afraid that he might turn up at the last moment and spoil our plans; but the groom at the vicarage, whom I just met, told me that Jasper Adelstone had been summoned to London on business." Stella felt a sense of relief, though she smiled. "Mr. Adelstone is your _bête noire_, Frank," she said. He nodded. "I'd rather have his room than his company, any day." Then, after a pause, he added, "I don't think we'd better start together, Stel. I'll walk on directly, and you can follow. Whatever you do, avoid a collision with Mrs. Penfold; her eyes are sharp, and there's something in your face this morning that would set her curiosity on the _qui vive_." A few moments afterward he left the room, and Stella was left alone. Her heart beat fast, and, try as she would, she could not keep her eyes from the silent, patient figure at the easel, and at last she went up and stood beside him. "You seem restless this morning, my child," he said. "Meditating any secret crime?" And he smiled. Stella started guiltily. "I wonder what you would say, what you would think, uncle," she murmured, with a little laugh that bordered on the hysterical, "if I were to do anything wrong--if I were to deceive you in anything?" He stepped back to look at his picture. "I should say, my dear, that the last shred of faith and trust in women to which I have clung had given way, and landed me in despair."