As he went, I caught sight of a slight figure, a pair of jealous, worshipping eyes. Poor Strathay had seen the incident; had perhaps thought-- I took pains to be cordial to him, when he had made his way with Poultney to my side; and to Mr. Poultney, too; though I don't like him much better than Cadge does, with his cold eyes and his thin smile, that seems to say: "Hope you find my schoolboy entertaining." An Earl is always entertaining! Yet I ran away from him. I left the tea early. I wanted to think. All the way home in the carriage I marshalled arguments in his favour. I saw myself at court, throned in my brilliant circle, flattered by princes, consulted by statesmen, the ornament of a society I am fitted to adorn. I saw a world of jealous women at my feet and Ned convinced that I had been playing with him. I even rehearsed the scene we should enact when Strathay should speak; I foresaw the flush upon his face, the sparkle of his eyes when I should tell him that I would try to love him. He must have slipped his cousin's leash, for he was at the Nicaragua almost as soon as I was. But there at home, with the boy's eyes fixed on mine, with the tremour of his voice telling me how much he cared, I couldn't listen. I made talk with him, for him. I gave him no chance to speak, determined as I was that he should speak. I was conscious of but one desire--to put off the avowal. At last he said: "Sometimes I fancy you're not happy." His voice was tense. He was leaning forward in his eagerness; he looked so zealous to be my champion--so honest! I tried to smile. I really liked him. Happy! Out of memory there came to me a picture: I was creeping to Ethel's bed at night, whispering to her that I was the happiest girl in the world; she kissed me sleepily, and said she was happy too, and then I groped my way back to bed, and lay there in the dark, smiling. That was years ago. Three months? Years, long, long years ago! Now it flashed across me that Lord Strathay loved me as I had loved Ned. That gave me a measure of the gift he was to offer. I felt Ned's kisses on my hands, bidding me be honest.--I felt other kisses, too; I saw--good God, how long must I see?--a gray old face--the face of Darmstetter! Happy! I closed my eyes to shut out the vision. I shuddered. "You--really, I'm afraid you're very tired," he said, after waiting a little. "Yes; tired," I gasped; "that's all." But I knew I must marry him. I controlled myself. I smiled; I waited. I wished him to go on, but he was peering into my straining eyes with anxious sympathy. "I'm afraid you're too tired to talk with me to-day," he said; "but--you will let me come again?" "Yes." Such a relief! Though what was to be gained by waiting? What must be must be. Indeed an older man might have seen the wisdom of speaking at once. But Strathay looked wistfully at me for a moment, then turned away with a big, honest schoolboy sigh; and something like a sob broke his voice as he whispered:--