There was a soul-searching glance of tender reproach in the look which he cast upon Lady Adeline. She coloured deeply, and was so intensely affected, that it was with difficulty she could support herself. Had there been no witness of their emotion, that moment would have brought them to a mutual conviction of their true sentiments for each other; but as it was, Lady Adeline strove to hide her feelings by turning her countenance away from him, and talking with more earnestness in a low, quick voice to Mr. Foley. Lord Albert rose, paced the room hurriedly, and was on the point of rushing away, when at that moment Lady Dunmelraise entered the apartment. At sight of her Lord Albert recovered his self-possession. He approached Lady Dunmelraise with composure, though with rather more of formal dignity in his manner than he was accustomed to show towards one whom he knew so well, and whom he had so long considered almost as a mother. There was a similar restraint on her part; and to his measured expressions of regret on the subject of Lady Adeline's sudden illness the preceding evening, she replied coldly and briefly, and then passed on to indifferent subjects, in which all present took their share. Lord Albert, however, rarely addressed himself to Lady Adeline or Mr. Foley, but seemed pointedly to confine his conversation to Lady Dunmelraise; while Lady Adeline, on her part, fearing to lift her eyes to him, or trust her voice with the most trivial expression immediately directed to him, continued to talk to Mr. Foley, though in so unconnected and absent a manner, that could he have overheard what she said, something like the truth must have been forced upon his mind. After remaining a short half hour, which appeared to the parties most interested like half a century, Lady Dunmelraise, wishing to act on the principle she had explained to her daughter, of showing no very marked difference towards Lord Albert, said, "Adeline will not venture out this evening for fear of a return of her headache. Perhaps, Lord Albert, if you are not engaged, you will dine and pass a quiet evening with us?" It is difficult to say how far Lord Albert, whose heart was ever alive to the slightest kindness, would have rejoiced to accept this offer, and grasp at the cherished idea that his society was still wished for, had not Lady Dunmelraise, in the same breath, turned to Mr. Foley, saying; "George, will you not be of the party, and dine here too?" There was a momentary cloud passed over Lord Albert's brow, and Mr. Foley had accepted the invitation before he could reply. At length, after a painful pause, Lord Albert said;