This Constance had fully foreseen and expected; but she was outwardly, to all appearance, collected and calm, till the secret that oppressed her became too much for her nervous system. Thus, the tenor of her bearing, which before had been all kindness and gratitude, suddenly changed. She became cold and constrained, perplexed and even awkward; so that a chill fell upon the heart of Audley, whose nature, all unlike that of his father, was frank and generous to a fault. She curtly but gently told him, that until the return of her husband she could afford no permission for her daughter to receive addresses; and soon after, full of deep mortification, and dreading he knew not what, Audley Trevelyan took his leave; and Constance, as she watched his figure pass out of the avenue, burst into tears. Sybil, as her youngest-born, she had ever looked upon as a species of child--called "_the_ baby," when long past babyhood; and now Sybil had a lover! Awakened to the reality of this, the poor lonely mother regarded this new phase of her daughter's existence with a species of alarm that bordered on terror. "Would that Richard were home!" was her first thought; "even Denzil's advice would be something to me now, poor boy!" Audley had barely entered the Trecarrels' drawing-room, when Rose, who was reclining on a fauteuil, with her rich brown hair beautifully dressed by the hands of her Ayah, and who fancied herself immersed in a novel, tossed it aside, for her clear hazel eyes speedily detected the disturbed expression of his face, and proceeded forthwith to quiz him as usual about "the Devereaux girl," and his intentions in that quarter; while Mabel, who was seated at the piano, sang laughingly a verse of "Wanted, a Wife," then a popular song, altering certain words "to suit the occasion," as Rose said-- "As to fortune--of course, I have but my pay, A sub with seven-and-sixpence a day, And a pension beside--rather small, 'tis confest, For a leg shot away in the action 'off Brest;' For the loss of three fingers in fighting a chase, And a terrible cut from a sword in my face. But with all these defects, my nerves I must string, To propose for Miss Devereaux--delicate thing!" Audley felt almost inclined to quarrel with his fair friends. "Don't tease a fellow so, Rose," said he, wearily; "I have no money--at least, little beyond my pay; and have as much idea of marrying as--as----" "I have, perhaps." "I cannot say that." "You could ask this Sybil Devereaux?" "Of course--it would be easy as cribbage." "And what would she say, think you?" "As a sensible girl such as she seems to be--'wait.'" "Which means, that she would take you in time to come?" "Perhaps." "Unless something better turned up."