"Of course, you could not have him always at your apron-strings. What, or which, is his corps?" "The Cornish Light Infantry." "My own Regiment! I am the full colonel of it: why did he not leave a card with me on appointment?--he must have known of my whereabouts." A cloud came over the fair open countenance of Trecarrel, and Constance felt that, in the further prosecution of their systematic incognito, a breach of military etiquette and punctilio had taken place. "My young friend Trevelyan is in the same corps," said the General, after a pause. Constance knew that too, and that it had been the Regiment of her husband during their happiest days at Montreal; but when with it he had borne his family surname, and _not_ that of Devereaux. "Oh, what a tangled web we weave, "When first we practise to deceive!" So thought Constance, and who could not quite foresee the end of the web. Her present perplexities were increasing, and her usually pale cheeks began to blush scarlet. But now, to her intense relief, the sound of wheels and hoofs at the door, followed by quick steps in the entrance, announced an arrival, and in a moment more mother and daughter were weeping joyfully in each other's arms. "Dearest mamma--darling mamma! Oh the joy of being safe with you again! An age seems to have elapsed since I left you this evening!" And old Winny Braddon came in for her share of caresses, while the General and Trevelyan, though they now began to feel themselves rather _de trop_, looked on with smiles of pleasure. So full of joy was Constance at the restoration of Sybil, that she never noticed the quaint and coarse (though comfortably dry) costume which the careful wife of Treherne had substituted for her wet and sodden habiliments. Audley's quick and practised eye saw that Constance was a woman possessing more than an ordinary share of beauty and refinement. He took in the whole details of the drawing-room, and perceived by a glance that the occupants of this secluded villa "in the willow-glen--those peculiar Devereaux," as the Trecarrel girls called them, were evidently people of the best and most cultivated taste, for the buhl or marquetterie tables, consoles, and cabinets exhibited selections from the most chaste productions of Dresden and Sèvres; delicate Venetian bronzes, quaint Majolica vases and groups, some relics from Herculaneum; and other objects (more familiar to him) from India and Burmah were there--four-armed gods and other idols in silver or ivory. Pausing for a moment in her caresses, Constance turned towards Audley Trevelyan with a pleading glance of irresolution, yet one of wonderful sweetness. "My young friend, Mr. Trevelyan," said the General; "allow me to introduce him, Mrs. Devereaux." "Oh, sir, to you I owe the gratitude of a lifetime?" she exclaimed in an accent of touching tenderness.