"Happened to him, to Leycester!" she said, with proud contempt. "What could have happened to him? Leycester is not the sort of man to meet with accidents. Pray do not be uneasy, dear; he will come in directly, very tired, and very hungry, and laugh at us." "I give him credit for better manners," said the earl, curtly. He was angry and annoyed. As he had said to the countess before Lenore came in, he had hoped and believed that Leycester had given up this sort of boyish nonsense, and intended to act sensibly, as became a man who had settled to marry. There was a moment's pause while the earl buttered his toast, still irritably; then Lady Wyndward said almost to herself-- "Perhaps Lilian knows?" "No," said Lenore, quickly, "she does not, or she would have told me. I saw her last night the last thing, and she did not know he was out. Do not tell her." The countess glanced at her gratefully. "She would only be anxious and fret," said Lenore. "While I am not, and shall not be," she added, with a smile. "I am not afraid that Leycester has run away from me." She looked up as she spoke, and flashed her beauty upon them, as it were, and smiled, and the mother felt reassured. Certainly it did not seem probable that any man would run away from her. She herself felt no fear, not even when the morning grew to noon and the noon to evening. She went about the house superintending the packing of the multitudinous things, arranging the epergnes, playing the piano even, and more than once the light air from the French opera floated through the room. Lord Beauchamp and the rest of the visitors were to arrive about seven, just in time to dress for dinner, and the stir that had reigned in the house grew accentuated as the time approached. Lenore went to her room at six to dress; she meant to look her best to-night, as well indeed as she meant to look on the following day; and her maid knew by the attention which her mistress had paid to the wardrobe that every care would be expected from her ministering hands. Just before she went to her room she met the countess on the stairs; they had not seen very much of each other during the day; there was a great deal to do, and the countess, notwithstanding her rank, was a housekeeper in something more than name. "Lenore," she said, then stopped. The beauty bent over from her position on a higher step and kissed her. "I know, dear--he has not come yet. Well, he will be here by dinner-time. Why are you so anxious? I am not." And she laughed. It certainly encouraged the countess, and she even called up a smile. "What a strange girl you are, Lenore," she said. "One would have thought that you, before all of us, would have been uneasy." Lenore shook her head. "No, dear; I feel--I feel that he will come. Now see if my prophecy comes true." And she went up the stairs, casting a serene and confident smile over her shoulder.