"Go in, then; you can join me presently. I shall be on the pier. I say, Dick, the fair directress of this establishment ought to put up on her sign, `Dealer in heart-strings and fiddle-strings.' There, good-bye for the present." The Colonel went on, keeping a sharp look-out for Cora Dean's pony-carriage; but it did not meet his eyes; and Richard Linnell turned into the library, meeting Lady Drelincourt, who smiled and simpered as she passed out, thrusting a book into her reticule. Miss Clode was just disappearing into the inner room, leaving round-eyed Annie in charge; but as soon as that young lady caught sight of Linnell, she darted back to whisper loudly: "Auntie, auntie: here's Mr Richard Linnell." The latter saw no reason why little Miss Clode should flush and turn pale, and then look up at him in a wistful manner, almost with reproach in her eyes. "Why, it's quite a month since I've seen you, Mr Linnell," she said, "and--and you look quite pale and thin." "Do I, Miss Clode?" he said, smiling. "Ah, well, it's a healthy sign-- of robust health, you know. I want some--" "But you don't look well, Mr Linnell," she said hastily. "Annie, my dear, take this book to Mrs Barclay's, and make haste back." "Yes, auntie," said the girl, in an ill-used tone. "And make haste," cried Miss Clode. "Will you excuse me a minute, Mr Linnell?" "Oh, of course," said the young man listlessly. "Give me the case with the violin strings, and I'll select some." Miss Clode did not appear as if she heard him, but went to the back of the shop to hurry her niece away, to that young lady's great disgust, for she wanted to stare at Richard, whom she greatly admired, and hear what was said. Consequently, he was left turning over the books for a few minutes before Miss Clode returned, and, to his surprise, stood gazing up at him wistfully. "Well, Miss Clode," he said with forced gaiety, "suppose somebody were waiting for me to join in a sonata?" "I--I beg your pardon," she cried, flushing, and turning her back, she obtained the tin case that held the transparent rings, and placed it before him with a deep sigh. "Not well, Miss Clode?" said Richard cheerfully. To his astonishment she caught his hand in hers, and burst into tears. "No, no, no," she cried, sobbing violently, "I am ill--heart-sick. Mr Linnell, please, pray come in, I want to speak to you." "Why, Miss Clode!" he exclaimed. "Yes, you are surprised," she exclaimed, "greatly surprised. You, so young and handsome, an independent gentleman, are astonished that a poor insignificant woman in my humble position should be always anxious about you--should--should--there, I can keep it back no longer," she cried passionately, as she held with both hands tightly that which he tried to withdraw. "I must speak--I must tell you, or you will wreck and ruin your dear life. Mr Linnell--Richard--I love you. I love you so that I cannot bear to see and hear what I do--you are breaking my heart."