“You exhibit an angel’s goodness to me, my lord, and I must tax it still further! Listen! and pray do not misconceive me! I am not ungrateful; but—the scenes of the last month have so severely tried me—that even now, when I am acquitted, I cannot pass from the contemplation of the horrors that filled my mind and threatened my future, at once to the enjoyment of the security of your protection, and the blessedness of your love! I need a short interval of solitude, isolation, self-communion and prayer, before I dare enter the Eden you open to me! Suffer me, therefore, my dearest lord, to return, as heretofore, under the charge of our reverend friend to my apartment at the ‘Crown and Sceptre.’” “And then?” “We shall meet again.” “To-morrow?” “You may come and inquire for me, to-morrow noon.” “Estelle! do you really feel this interval to be necessary to your convenience?” “It is vitally necessary to my _peace_ and _sanity_, I think, my lord.” “Be it so, then! I cannot object, nor will I reproach you, my Stella, cruel as I feel this delay to be. Shall I attend you to your hotel?” “If you will not think me ungrateful, I prefer that you should take leave of me, as heretofore, at my carriage door.” “Well! I will obey my lady’s behests, however unacceptable they may be, and that without cavilling,” said his lordship. “But I may come to you to-morrow, you said?” “Come to-morrow, my lord.” Estelle expressed herself now ready to depart. Mr. Oldfield arose and gave her his arm. Lord Montressor walked by her side, and attended her into the street and to the carriage. “Farewell, until we meet, dear Stella,” he said, as he placed her in the carriage. “Aye! until we meet! Farewell, my lord,” she answered solemnly—how solemnly he afterward remembered—lifting her eyes to his countenance with a momentary, deep, earnest, thrilling gaze, as though she would make and receive an impression that should last through life! Lord Montressor lifted her hand to his lips, bowed, and retired to give place to Mr. Oldfield, who entered the carriage, took the seat beside Estelle, and gave orders to the coachman to drive on. The streets were still thronged with people, waiting for that carriage to pass, in hope of getting a sight of one whose name, for praise or blame, was now on every tongue. “An honorable acquittal is assuredly the next worst thing to a conviction!” thought Mr. Oldfield, as he nervously let down the inner curtains to screen his companion from the vulgar gaze. They finally reached their inn, the neighborhood of which was peopled by an expectant crowd, waiting to see their arrival. Mr. Oldfield wrapped her vail closely around the head of his charge, handed her out of the carriage, and led her quickly into the house, and up to their private parlor. As soon as they had reached this apartment, Estelle turned to her venerable friend, and said in a low voice: