Very grave were the faces gathered about the breakfast table next morning, and very anxious the glances cast on Sir Jasper as he came in, late as usual, looking uncommonly blithe and well. Nothing serious ever made a deep impression on his mercurial nature. Treherne had more the air of a doomed man, being very pale and worn, in spite of an occasional gleam of happiness as he looked at Octavia. He haunted Jasper like a shadow all the morning, much to that young gentleman's annoyance, for both his mother and sister hung about him with faces of ill-dissembled anxiety. By afternoon his patience gave out, and he openly rebelled against the tender guard kept over him. Ringing for his horse he said decidedly, “I'm bored to death with the solemnity which pervades the house today, so I'm off for a brisk gallop, before I lose my temper and spirits altogether.” “Come with me in the pony carriage, Jasper. I've not had a drive with you for a long while, and should enjoy it so much,” said my lady, detaining him. “Mrs. Snowdon looks as if she needed air to revive her roses, and the pony carriage is just the thing for her, so I will cheerfully resign my seat to her,” he answered laughing, as he forced himself from his mother's hand. “Take the girls in the clarence. We all want a breath of air, and you are the best whip we know. Be gallant and say yes, dear.” “No, thank you, Tavie, that won't do. Rose and Blanche are both asleep, and you are dying to go and do likewise, after your vigils last night. As a man and a brother I beg you'll do so, and let me ride as I like.” “Suppose you ask Annon to join you--” began Treherne with well-assumed indifference; but Sir Jasper frowned and turned sharply on him, saying, half-petulantly, half-jocosely: “Upon my life I should think I was a boy or a baby, by the manner in which you mount guard over me today. If you think I'm going to live in daily fear of some mishap, you are all much mistaken. Ghost or no ghost, I shall make merry while I can; a short life and a jolly one has always been my motto, you know, so fare you well till dinnertime.” They watched him gallop down the avenue, and then went their different ways, still burdened with a nameless foreboding. Octavia strolled into the conservatory, thinking to refresh herself with the balmy silence which pervaded the place, but Annon soon joined her, full of a lover's hopes and fears. “Miss Treherne, I have ventured to come for my answer. Is my New Year to be a blissful or a sad one?” he asked eagerly. “Forgive me if I give you an unwelcome reply, but I must be true, and so regretfully refuse the honor you do me,” she said sorrowfully. “May I ask why?” “Because I do not love you.” “And you do love your cousin,” he cried angrily, pausing to watch her half-averted face.