He resolved to plead particular and sudden business--a summons from his father--a relation at the point of death--any excuse to depart the following day. This torture was not to be endured. Yet he wished to have an opportunity of speaking to her once, and of telling her how ardently he prayed for her welfare. He left his room very early the next morning, and he perambulated the library, the saloon, the breakfast-room, the hall. He knew Lady Blanche was an early riser; Cransley was renowned for the lateness of its breakfast-hour; perhaps she would make her appearance before the other guests. He was not wrong in his calculations. Lady Blanche came into the drawing-room to look for her mother's work-basket, and was hastily retiring with it, when De Molton arrested her steps by saying, "that as he was obliged to depart in an hour, he was anxious to express to one, for whom he felt such esteem and admiration, his earnest wishes--his prayers for her happiness." "You are not going to-day, surely, Captain De Molton?" answered Blanche in a tremulous tone. "I must," he said: "I could not, would not stay here another day, for anything this world can now offer me." "Lady Westhope will be quite disappointed. She hoped you were come for ten days, or a fortnight." "Such was my intention; but circumstances--imperative circumstances, over which I have no controul, render my stay here----impossible." "I hope no misfortune has occurred in your family?" inquired Lady Blanche, thoroughly impressed with the idea of his indifference towards herself, and, consequently, by no means attributing his visible agitation to its true cause. "No misfortune has occurred in my family," he resumed in a voice of deep emotion--"but one to myself. No--no! it is not a misfortune: on the contrary, it is the thing in the world I ought most to wish; it is the union of the two beings I most value, most respect, most love on earth! I ought to rejoice--I do rejoice. Believe me, Lady Blanche, though my voice falters, and I am at this moment weak, I rejoice that the friend to whom I am bound by every tie of gratitude and affection has gained the heart of the most perfect of womankind; and that the woman who alone in my eyes is perfect, is likely to be happy with a man who is all honour, truth, and uprightness. May Heaven in its mercy bless you both!" The tears stood in De Molton's glistening eyes. They almost overflowed. "I am a fool," he added; "I thought I had more command over myself; I did not mean to torment you, to insult you, with an avowal of my hopeless, my presumptuous love!" Lady Blanche had stood transfixed in fear, amazement, joy;--yes, joy! there are no circumstances under which it is not joy to find affection is requited. "And do you indeed love me?" she said, scarcely conscious of what she uttered. "Do I love you! Lady Blanche, can you ask that question? In folly, hopelessness, misery, I cannot--cannot quell my love!"