“I often ride at this hour and with no better weather,” said she, adjusting the folds of her habit; “and as to the road, Puck knows it too well to wander from the track, daylight or dark.” “For our sakes, I entreat you not to venture till morning,” cried Lady Eleanor. “I could not if I would,” said Miss Daly, steadily. “By to-morrow, at noon, I have an engagement at some distance hence, and much to arrange in the mean time. Pray do not ask me again. I cannot bear to refuse you, even in such a trifle; and as to me or my safety, waste not another thought about it. They who have so little to live for are wondrous secure from accident.” “When shall we see you? Soon, I hope and trust!” exclaimed both mother and daughter together. Miss Daly shook her head; then added hastily, “I never promise anything. I was a great castle-builder once, but time has cured me of the habit, and I do not like, even by a pledge, to forestall the morrow. Farewell, Lady Eleanor. It is better to see but little of me, and think the better, than grow weary of my waywardness on nearer acquaintance. Adieu, Miss Darcy; I am glad to have seen you; don't forget me.” So saying, she pressed Helen's hands to her lips; but ere she let them drop, she squeezed a letter into her grasp; the moment after, she was gone. “Oh, then, I remember her the beauty wonst!” said Tate, as he closed the door, after peering out for some seconds into the dark night: “and proud she was too,--riding a white Arabian, with two servants in scarlet liveries after her! The world has quare changes; but hers is the greatest ever I knew!” CHAPTER XIV. A TÊTE-À-TÊTE AND A LETTER Long after Miss Daly's departure, Lady Eleanor continued to discuss the eccentricity of her manners and the wilful abruptness of her address; for although deeply sensible and grateful for her kindness, she dwelt on every' peculiarity of her appearance with a pertinacity that more than once surprised her daughter. Helen, indeed, was very far from being a patient listener, not only because she was more tolerant in her estimate of their visitor, but because she was eager to read the letter so secretly intrusted to her hands. A dread of some unknown calamity, some sad tidings of her father or Lionel, was ever uppermost in her thoughts, nor could she banish the impression that Miss Daly's visit had another and very different object than that which she alleged to Lady Eleanor.