"I thought you did, and I now feel sure you did," answered Harry, his anger vanishing. "You know also that I love her cousin; I wish even now to see her. I am very unhappy. I cannot venture into the house. Will you, therefore, act the part of a true friend, and bear a message from me to her? and also will you pass your word of honour not to try and win her affections during my absence? Your attentions might annoy her, and yet you might be tempted to pay them." "Again you mock me, Tryon," said the young baron. "Can you suppose that my affections, which are buried in the grave of her sweet cousin, should so soon be restored to life? I will, however, give you my promise as you desire it." It is possible that the young baron's affections were not so deeply buried as he supposed. However, he spoke with sincerity, and Harry believed him. He agreed to go round to the front door, and enter as an evening visitor, and to deliver Harry's message, should he have an opportunity of doing so without being overheard by the colonel or Madame Everard. Lucy had constructed an arbour with woodwork, interspersed with flowers and paths winding among it. A rustic bridge crossed a sparkling stream, which ran murmuring down in front towards the lake. There was but one approach, so that strangers could not easily find it. Here Harry begged that Mabel would come to him. He sat down in the bower, anxiously waiting her approach. More than once he started up, thinking that he heard her footsteps, but his senses had deceived him. At length he could restrain his anxiety no longer. Had the baron deceived him, or could not Mabel venture out? He wished he had not trusted to another person. He might have written, or he might, by watching patiently, have seen her during the day as she walked about the grounds. He was going once more towards the house, when he saw a figure coming along the gravel walk towards him. He was sure it was Mabel. At the risk of being mistaken he hurried to meet her. "Speak, speak! Is it Miss Everard? is it Mabel?" he asked. "Oh, Harry, your voice has relieved me, for not expecting to see you in the dress you wear, as the moonlight fell on you I feared that I might be mistaken. Oh! tell me, what has brought you down so suddenly. The Baron de Ruvigny's manner made me very anxious." "Come and sit down here, and I will tell you all," said Harry, taking her hand and leading her to the arbour. "I have folly to confess. I am lowered in my own sight, and I fear I must be in yours," said Harry, in a trembling voice, very unlike his usual tone. "What is it you have done?" asked Mabel, much agitated. "Nothing wrong, surely; nothing wrong?"