Mrs. Richards had watched them saunter from the veranda in a flutter of anticipation, hoping that the all-important moment had at last arrived. But one glance at her daughter’s face when they came back told her that the much wished for crisis had _not_ arrived, and she felt deeply disappointed. “Good-night and good-by!” Josephine said, holding out her white hand to her companion as they entered the hotel. She could not trust herself longer in his society, lest she should betray something of her disappointment and ill-nature. “I must say my farewell now, I suppose, since we are to leave by the early train to-morrow.” “It is always hard to say farewell to our friends,” Lord Carrol answered, smiling as he took her extended hand. “However, I can say it with a better grace now than if it was to be a final one. But are you going to leave us so soon? There is a gay company in the dancing-hall, and I fear many will be disappointed if you flit so early.” “Yes, I am going up to my room,” she answered, wearily; and he noticed that she had grown very pale and was shivering. “I am really afraid you have taken cold; you look ill, and I fear I kept you out too long,” he said, anxiously. “No,” she returned, brightening a trifle as she saw how troubled he was on her account. “I have not taken cold, but I do not feel like dancing to-night, so I will retire. Good-by for a week.” “Yes, for one week; then I shall see you in your own home at Yonkers,” Lord Carrol said; and just then Mrs. Richards approached them. “How is it that you two young people are not in the ball-room?” she said, brightly. “I am taking leave of Miss Richards, who thinks of retiring, as she says you leave on the early train,” explained his lordship. “What is the trouble, Josie—are you not well?” the elder lady asked, with maternal solicitude. “Yes; but I do not wish to dance to-night, so I am going up stairs.” “Then I’ll go with you, for I have not quite finished packing. Well, my lord,” she added, turning cheerily to him and giving him her hand, “I trust you will spend the coming week pleasantly, and then we shall expect to see you again.” “Thanks. Shall I have the pleasure of meeting Mr. Richards then? Will he have returned by that time?” the young man asked. “Yes; he returns next week,” Mrs. Richards answered, a new idea striking her. Probably he wished to consult formally with her husband before proposing to Josephine; the English, she knew, were very punctilious regarding such matters. Yes, she was confident, now she thought of it, that was why he had not come to the point to-night. So, after a few more cordially spoken regrets, good wishes, and so forth, they left him and sought their rooms. Lord Carrol turned and went out into the grounds again, his face grown very grave and thoughtful. “I never would have believed it. I do not understand it at all,” he muttered to himself. But what he did not understand or could not believe, the future must develop.