"It can't be true," Cora said to herself, as her brain seemed to become a chaos of love, jealousy, hatred, and pride in the brave young fellow who had saved her life, and, civilian though he was, showed himself ready to meet such a notorious fire-eater as the Major. Just then she gave a gasp, for she saw a stiff, military-looking man, whom she knew to be the regimental surgeon, come up to the door. It was true, then; and it was all she could do to keep from bursting into an hysterical fit of sobbing. But a thought came directly that gave her strength, and she felt joy and elation together as she said to herself: "He found them together, and horsewhipped the Major. Well, so much the better. He can never think of Claire Denville again. If he did--" She uttered a low unpleasant laugh, as Annie found that she must go back, for she could eat no more cake; and as soon as they were alone Mrs Dean exclaimed: "Don't, for goodness' sake, laugh like that, my dear; it gives me the cold shivers all down my back. It's just like Metalina in `The Haunted Vampire,' where she takes an oath as she'll kill her rival or perish in the attempt." Volume Two, Chapter VIII. MRS BARCLAY IS PUZZLED. "Oh, my dear, and do you know how they're all a-talking about you?" cried Mrs Barclay, as she sat panting beneath the florid portrait of May Burnett in the MC's shabby drawing-room. Claire looked up appealingly in the pleasant, plump face, and her brow knit. "You see, it all comes to me, my dear, and it worries me because I like you so." "You were always very kind to me, Mrs Barclay." "Not half so kind as I should like to be, my dear. I wanted to have you home when the mur--" "Oh, hush!" "Of course, my dear. That's my way. So vulgar and thoughtless. Think of me now bringing that up to you who live here; and us sitting in the very next room." "Mrs Barclay!" "Yes, I won't say another word, my dear. Not that I believe in sperrits or anything of that kind. But you were saying about me being kind. Why, you won't let me be, my dear. I'm sure the dresses I'd buy you, and the things I'd give you, if you'd let me, would make some of them stare." "But I could not let you, Mrs Barclay," said Claire, smiling. "No; you're so proud, my dear, that's it. You see, Josiah lets me have so much for housekeeping, that I've always plenty to spare; and as to jewellery, why, I might wash in diamonds if I liked, but I don't." "Let us be as usual, Mrs Barclay," said Claire, with more animation, "and never mind about what people say, or fashion, or dress, or any of the nonsense." "I'm sure I should like to be, my dear; but you being a motherless girl, I don't like to hear people talking about you." Claire's face grew flushed. "Don't look like that, Claire, my dear. I'm not cross with you, but when people talk about you being out walking with that horrid black Major Rockley, it hurts me." "I could not help it, Mrs Barclay," said Claire.