It was terrible, but it was true; and she knew that she could not help a feeling of exultation that Horace North had discovered something of her sister's character before it was too late. She felt ashamed of this feeling, but it was utterly unselfish, and born of the love she felt for North. He could never be more than a friend to her, but she would like to see him happy, and that he could never be with Leo for his wife. She wept bitterly as she lay helplessly there, for it seemed like rejoicing that her sister was found out; but the thoughts would come, and they mastered her. And there to share the watch of Hartley Salis was Dally Watlock, as she sat behind her curtained window with the casement just ajar. She could see nothing below, but she made sure that "Master" would not go to bed till "Miss Leo" returned. "Bless her!" she said, with a little laugh that was like a baby born of old Moredock's chuckle. "How she will catch it! Serve her right: trying to come between us. But she may try after this. She'll get out to see him no more, and he'll soon forget her." All was very still without, and Dally strained her ears to catch a sound, her eyes to make out some dark figure pacing the garden. "I wonder where he is?" she said to herself. "He'd wait for her if it was for a month, and then my fine lady will catch it nicely. "I wish I knew where he was," she muttered, and her wish was gratified, for all at once, as she was pressing the casement open another quarter of an inch, there was a low cough from down to her left, as Salis altered his position in his chair. "He's watching just inside the drawing-room window," Dally said to herself, as she clasped her little hands together; "and when my lady comes home--" Dally paused. "My lady! No, she shan't never be my lady," she hissed fiercely. "I'd kill her, and gran'fa should bury her first." "When she comes home," continued Dally with another malicious little laugh, "she'll wish she had never gone. I'll hear some of the row if I have to leave. "Ah! It'll pay me for her getting a few kisses, and having his arm round her waist a bit. Ugh! how I hate the nasty, good-looking minx. I wish she was dead!" Daily's teeth gritted together in the darkness, and she uttered a low, hissing noise, as she writhed in her jealousy, and pictured to herself the scene that was probably going on at the Hall. "I don't care," she muttered recklessly. "What are a few kisses? I shan't miss 'em, and he's obliged to keep it up for a bit before he quite breaks it off. Says it will kill her when he does. I hope it will. "Wonder how long she'll be?" continued Dally. "I don't mind. I can easily get a nap to-morrow after dinner, but I don't think she'll care to go to sleep after master's had his say."