Here her castle-building was interrupted by the entrance of Alice, watch in hand--Alice, who had not tasted a morsel all day. She had spent hours alternately pacing the room and reading her husband’s letter; at one moment revived with hope, at another sickening with despair, according as her own convictions or Miss Fane’s came uppermost. Pale, but composed, she drew near the fire, and mechanically spread her hands towards the blaze. “Have you dined yet, Miss Fane? I am very sorry to have left you alone, but really my head ached so badly there was no use in coming down. Geoffrey will be here in ten minutes if the train is punctual.” “Then in ten minutes you will know your fate,” said Miss Fane, laying her knitting down and looking at the clock. “Oh, it’s sure to be all right,” replied Alice bravely, but white as ashes to the very lips; as steadying herself by the mantelpiece, she kept her eyes fixed on the door. Miss Fane’s favourite motto, “Hope for the best, prepare for the worst,” was suddenly curtailed by sounds in the hall. Geoffrey’s face, as he entered with a would-be cheerful look, spoke volumes, quite sufficient for Alice, who knew every expression of his familiar features. Her dry lips tried to form a question, but no sound came from them. “Alice!” he abruptly blundered forth, “they say it’s a correct copy, and all that sort of thing. There is no use concealing the truth. Mark and I are certain that Reginald will clear it all up; it’s some frightful mistake, but nothing more. I swear it is not,” he said, taking her icy cold hand. “Don’t you fret yourself about it,” he added earnestly, for Alice’s white face and stony fixed expression alarmed him not a little. “A correct copy did you say?” screamed Miss Fane. “Good heavens, what an unprincipled wretch Reginald must be! It’s well his father and mother are in their graves. My _worst_ fears are confirmed. “Alice, my poor child,” turning towards her with outstretched hands, “you will always have a friend and guardian in me.” But her future ward did not hear her; Alice was lying at Geoffrey’s feet insensible. * * * * * Next morning Alice had a long interview with Miss Fane, who came to condole and reason with her. She was in bed, and utterly at Miss Fane’s mercy. All her hopes were speedily nipped in the bud. Every loophole of excuse that during the night her busy brain had conjured up was speedily scattered to the winds by Miss Fane’s common sense.