The dinner was most distressing. Lord Glenrith began, in the innocence of his heart, to tell them everything he had done, every arrangement that had been made, and how Lord and Lady Wentnor meant to visit Leamington for a few weeks, and to relinquish Wentnor Castle to them for their honeymoon; but he found his audience so cold, that he in his turn became chilled and daunted. As they left the dining-room, Lady Blanche summoned all her courage, and said, "I wish to speak to you presently in the breakfast-room." The die was cast! She must now tell him all. She seized her mother's arm as they crossed the hall. "O, mamma! what a task I have to perform! How could I ever accept poor dear Lord Glenrith, and plunge myself into this dreadful difficulty?" "My dear, say rather, 'How could I let myself fall in love with a man whom it is utterly impossible I should marry?'--that would be more to the purpose. But it is too late now: there is no use in retrospection!" It was not many minutes before they heard the dining-room doors open. Lady Blanche rushed into the breakfast-room adjoining, and in two seconds Lord Glenrith followed her. He saw something unusual had occurred, and he felt uneasy, but his mind never glanced towards what awaited him. "Well, Blanche, what in the world have you to say to me?" and he seated himself on the sofa by her side. "How glad I am we are once more quietly here, and no longer surrounded by simpering, quizzing acquaintances!" And there seemed a considerable danger of his attempting to put his arm round her waist. If he did meditate such a thing, his intentions were by no means carried into effect, for she started up to take her reticule off the table, and re-seated herself at the opposite side of the fireplace in an arm-chair. "Lord Glenrith," she said, "I have something upon my mind which has made me very miserable of late." "Miserable!--you miserable, and I not know it! What can I do, dearest Blanche? You know I would go through fire and water to serve you." "Do not speak so kindly to me,--you make what I have to say more painful, more difficult. I deserve nothing from you but hatred and contempt." "What are you talking about? Are you in your right senses?" "Scarcely, I believe; for any other woman would think herself the happiest and most fortunate of creatures in marrying you; and if I was to do so, I should be both wicked and wretched!" "Not marry me, Blanche!--you are dreaming. What can all this mean? It is very unpleasant, though you cannot mean what you are now saying." "Indeed I do mean what I say; and you cannot know how much I have suffered in coming to this conclusion."