Of all the rest of what passed this evening she knew nothing; she felt only a sort of astonishment at everybody’s gaiety, and a sense of the time being intolerably long. She thought that all these people never would go away--that their carriages never would be announced. But before it came to that time, General Clarendon insisted upon Lady Cecilia’s retiring. “I must,” said he, “play the tyrant, Cecilia; you have done too much to-day--Mrs. Holdernesse shall hold your place.” He carried Cecilia off, and Helen thought, or fancied, that he looked about for her. Glad to escape, she followed close behind. The general did not offer his arm or appear to notice her. When she came to the door leading to the staircase, there was Beauclerc, standing with folded arms, as in the music-room; he just bowed his head, and wished Lady Cecilia a good night, and waited, without a word, for Helen to pass, or not to pass, as she thought fit. She saw by his look that he expected explanation; but till she knew what Cecilia meant to do, how could she explain? To say nothing--to bear to be suspected,--was all she could do, without betraying her friend. That word _betray_--that thought ruled her. She passed him: “Good night” she could not then say. He bowed as she passed, and she heard no “Good night”--no sound. And there was the general in the hall to be passed also, before she could reach the staircase up which Cecilia was going. When he saw Helen with a look of surprise--as it seemed to her, of disapproving surprise--he said, “Are you gone, Miss Stanley?” The look, the tone, struck cold to her heart. He continued--“Though I drove Cecilia away, I did not mean to drive you away too. It is early.” “Is it? I thought it was very late.” “No--and if you _can_, I hope you will return.” There was a meaning in his eye, which she well understood. “Thank you,” said she; “if I can certainly----” “I hope you can and will.” “Oh! thank you; but I must first----” see Cecilia, she was going to say, but, afraid of implicating her, she changed the sentence to--“I must first consider----” “Consider! what the devil!” thought he, and his countenance was instantly angrily suited to the thought. Helen hesitated. “Do not let me detain--distress you farther, Miss Stanley, unavailingly; and since I shall not have the pleasure of seeing you again this evening,” concluded he, in a constrained voice, “I have the honour to wish you a good night.” He returned to the music-room. CHAPTER II. Helen instantly went to Cecilia’s room; Felicie was with her. Helen expected Lady Cecilia would dismiss her instantly; but mademoiselle was chattering. Helen had sometimes thought Cecilia let her talk too much, but to-night it was insufferable. Helen was too impatient, too anxious to bear it. “Cecilia, my dear, I want to speak to you alone, as soon as you can, in my own room.”