It was with an uncontrollable burst of joy that he rushed to hand her down the steps; and this brief interview sufficed to unsettle in his heart all the reasonable acquiescence in the disposition of their fates which he had been striving to attain. When he received Lord Westhope's invitation, he certainly did not think it quite impossible he might meet Lady Blanche; but he persuaded himself that he had in four months allowed his friend all proper time for making himself acceptable, and that there was no necessity for his refusing the accustomed invitation to a house to which he was in the habit of paying an annual visit. At all events, he should learn from Lady Westhope what was the state of the case: anything was better than the uncertainty in which he lived. Lady Blanche's manner, when he met her on the dimly lighted stairs of the theatre, had made him vaguely hope--he knew not what; for, supposing they did love each other, what then was to happen? He repeatedly asked himself this question; but did any one ever wish that the person beloved should not return his love? De Molton was a very reasonable man--he kept his feelings under great controul, but they were strong and ardent, and he could not reach that pitch of stoicism! To Cransley he went, with a mind distracted by doubt, wonder, hope, and fear. As he drove to the door, he saw Lord Falkingham dismounting from his cob; so he knew that Lady Blanche was in the house. "How will she meet me?" he thought; "how shall I find her? how shall I regulate my own behaviour?" and he almost repented having wilfully run into such danger; although, in truth, it was the hope of being placed in that very danger which had made him so gladly accept Lord Westhope's invitation. He was giving his orders to his servant at the door, when he saw Lord Glenrith approach the house in shooting costume, followed by keepers and dogs. He could not mistake the bright, happy face of his friend. His teeth gleamed as the setting sun shone on them; his cheek was sun-burned, and ruddy with exercise; his kind eyes beamed with honest joy to see De Molton. De Molton's heart sank within him as he recognized his dear friend; and it was with an effort, which would have been visible to any other eyes, that he returned his cordial greeting. As they both entered the drawing-room, the pale countenance and melancholy brow of De Molton would, in the opinion of many, have set off to advantage the gay good-humour of Lord Glenrith. The ladies were all there. Lady Blanche shook hands with Captain De Molton as soon as he had paid his devoirs to Lady Westhope, and, without having raised her eyes higher than to his chin, re-seated herself to her embroidery frame.