"My dear child, I am so glad to see you again!" exclaimed Lady Laura. "I am not supposed to stir outside the Castle in all this dreary week. Poor papa is to be buried to-morrow; but I wanted so much to see you on a most important business; so I ordered the brougham and drove here, with the blinds down all the way; and I'm sure, Clary, you won't think that I feel papa's loss any less because I come to see you just now. But I declare you are looking as pale and wan as any of us at Hale. You have not recovered that dreadful shock yet." "It was indeed a dreadful shock, dear Lady Laura," said Clarissa; and then in a less steady tone she went on: "Lady Geraldine is better, I hope?" "Geraldine is what she always is, Clary--a marvel of calmness. And yet I know she feels this affliction very deeply. She was papa's favourite, you know, and had a most extraordinary influence over him. He was so proud of her, poor dear!" "Won't you come into the house, Lady Laura?" "By and by, just to pay my respects to your papa. But we'll stay in the garden for the present, please, dear. I have something most particular to say to you." Clarissa's heart beat a little quicker. This most particular something was about George Fairfax: she felt very sure of that. "I am going to be quite candid with you, Clary," Lady Laura began presently, when they were in a narrow walk sheltered by hazel bushes, the most secluded bit of the garden. "I shall treat you just as if you were a younger sister of my own. I think I have almost a right to do that; for I'm sure I love you as much as if you were my sister." And here Lady Laura's plump little black-gloved hand squeezed Clarissa's tenderly. "You have been all goodness to me," the girl answered; "I can never be too grateful to you." "Nonsense, Clary; I will not have that word gratitude spoken between us. I only want you to understand that I am sincerely attached to you, and that I am the last person in the world to hold your happiness lightly. And now, dearest child, tell me the truth--have you seen George Fairfax since you left Hale?" Clarissa flushed crimson. To be asked for the truth, as if, under any circumstances, she would have spoken anything less than truth about George Fairfax! And yet that unwonted guilty feeling clung to her, and she was not a little ashamed to confess that she had seen him. "Yes, Lady Laura." "I thought so. I was sure of it. He came here on the very day you left--the day which was to have been his wedding-day." "It was on that evening that I saw him; but he did not come to this house. I was sitting outside the churchyard sketching when I saw him." "He did not come to the house--no; but he came to Arden on purpose to see you," Lady Laura answered eagerly. "I am sure of that." Unhappily Clarissa could not deny the fact. He had told her only too plainly that he had come to Arden determined to see her.