in its place a hot flaming riotous passion that scorches you into tinder, makes you miserable, takes away your appetite, and, in fact, possesses all the qualities which, at one time, you knew so well. Such was the result of Laurence Alsager's self-examination, and he fully admitted its truth. It was the interest which he took in Lady Mitford that had induced him to visit Redmoor; it was the same feeling which kept him lingering there. Then the interest must have increased; for the necessity for his self-imposed task of protection and supervision had certainly diminished. The actual fact which had decided his coming was the announcement that Lord Dollamore was to be among the guests. He had always had his own opinion of Lord Dollamore's morality; and the way in which that nobleman had spoken of Lady Mitford in the smoking-room of the Maecenas had jarred horribly on Alsager's nerves. There was something too in Laura Hammond's look and in the tone of her voice when she spoke of the probability of Dollamore's being left constantly with the ladies, at which Laurence had taken alarm. But Lord Dollamore seemed to be perfectly innocuous. Laurence had watched him narrowly from the first, and, as in the case of the drive to Egremont Priory, he seemed rather to avoid than to seek opportunities of being in Lady Mitford's company _en tête-à-tête_, and, judging from that and one or two other instances, was apparently desirous of keeping in the background, and of pushing Laurence forward. Could he--? No; he was a man utterly without principle where women are concerned; but he would never attempt such a game as that, more particularly if he, Laurence Alsager, were involved in it. Certainly Sir Charles was going to the bad more rapidly than Alsager had anticipated; but then it was to be said for him that he clearly had fallen into able hands. There had been few such adepts in the art of flirtation in Europe as Laura Molyneux; and she seemed to have become even more fertile in resources and skilful in their development since her marriage. Anything like the manner in which she had flirted with Mitford during the first few clays of her visit to Redmoor, Laurence, in all his experience, had never seen; and he thought at the time of the Egremont Priory expedition that things were coming rapidly to an end. Lady Mitford had evidently noticed something that day, some _tendresse_ between her husband and Mrs. Hammond, which had annoyed her very much; so much that she had almost called her friends' attention to her disgust. But the sweetness of her disposition had come to the rescue. Laurence knew, as well as if he had been able to read her thoughts, all that had passed in her mind during that drive in the pony-phaeton; he saw how she had reasoned with herself, and how she had finally determined that she had been hasty, inconsiderate, and in the wrong. He had seen her, immediately on alighting, slip away to join her husband; and he