But the eyes of the world were on Sir Oswald, and he was obliged to meet those unpitying eyes with a smile. The long line of equipages drew up at last on the margin of a wood; the pleasure-seekers alighted, and wandered about in twos and threes amongst the umbrageous pathways which led towards the Wizard's Cave. After alighting from the barouche, Lady Eversleigh waited to see if her husband would approach her, and offer his arm; she had a faint hope that he would do so, even in spite of his evident estrangement; but her hope was cruelly disappointed. Sir Oswald walked straight to a portly dowager, and offered to escort her to the cave. "Do you remember a pic-nic here twenty years ago, at which you and I danced together by moon-light, Lady Hetherington?" he said. "We old folks have pleasant memories of the past, and are the fittest companions for each other. The young people can enjoy themselves much better without the restraint of our society." He said this loud enough for his wife to hear. She did hear every word, and felt there was hidden significance in that careless speech. For a moment she was inclined to break down the icy barrier of reserve. The words which she wanted to speak were almost on her lips, "Let me go with you, Oswald." But in the next instant she met her husband's eyes, and their cold gaze chilled her heart. At the same moment Victor Carrington offered her his arm, with his accustomed deferential manner. She accepted the proffered arm, scarcely knowing who offered it, so deeply did she feel her husband's unkindness. "What have I done to offend him?" she thought. "What is this cruel mystery which divides us, and which is almost breaking my heart?" "Come, Lady Eversleigh," cried several voices; "we want you to accompany us to the Wizard's Cave." Nothing could be more successful than the pic-nic. Elegantly dressed women and aristocratic-looking men wandered here and there amidst the woodland, and by the margin of the waterfall; sometimes in gay little parties, whose talk and laughter rang out clearly on the balmy air; sometimes strolling _tête-à-tête_, and engaged in conversations of a more confidential character. Half-hidden by the foliage of a little thicket of pollard oaks, there was a military band, whose services Sir Oswald had obtained from a garrison-town some twenty miles from Raynham, and the stirring music added much to the charm of the festival. Lydia Graham was as happy as it is possible for any evil-minded woman to be. Her envious feelings were lulled to temporary rest by the enjoyment of her own triumphs; for the young lordling seemed to be completely subjugated by her charms, and devoted himself exclusively to attendance upon her. The scheming beauty's heart thrilled with a sense of triumph. She thought that she had at last made a conquest that might be better worth the making than any of those past conquests, which had all ended in such bitter disappointments.