Music had not lost its charm, rapt in the exquisite air she was playing, it seemed to soothe her agitated feelings, and bid her forget her usual timidity. All were silent, for the air was so sweet, so plaintive, not a voice could have disturbed it; it changed to a quicker, more animated strain, and at that instant Emmeline beheld Edward and Ellen hastily rise to greet a young man, who noiselessly yet eagerly came forward to meet them: it was Lord Louis. Emmeline started, a strong effort alone enabled her to command herself sufficiently to continue playing, but her fingers now moved mechanically; every pulse throbbed so violently, and to her ear so loudly, that she no longer heard the notes she played. All was a mist before her eyes, and the animated plaudits that greeted her as she ceased, rung in her ears as unmeaning, unintelligible sounds. Lord Louis hastily advanced to lead her from the harp, and to tell her how very glad he was to see her again, though even his usually careless eye lost its mirthful expression, as he marked the alteration in his favourite companion. Emmeline tried to smile and answer him in his own strain, but her smile was sickly and faint, and her voice trembled audibly as she spoke. She looked round, fearing, yet longing to see another, but Lord Louis was alone. His preceptor was not near him, but Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, St. Eval and Herbert had also left the room. Some little time passed in animated conversation, still Myrvin did not appear. "You are wanted in the library, dearest Emmeline," said the young Countess St. Eval. "Come with me, Emmeline: foolish girl, 'fear nothing,'" said the Earl, joyously. "Smile, gentle one," he whispered, as she turned her beseeching glance towards him, "do not greet the husband your parents have selected for you with a countenance such as this; nay, fear nothing," he repeated, as her steps faltered, and every limb trembled at his words. Again he smiled as he had once before during that evening, and for the first time a gleam of sudden light darted across the bewildered mind of the agitated girl, but so dazzling were the rays, so overpowering the brilliancy, from the contrast with the deep gloom which had been there before, that she could not believe it real; she deemed it some wild freak of fancy, that sportive fancy which had so long deserted her. St. Eval hurried on, supporting rather than leading his companion. They reached the library, and Emmeline's agitation increased almost to fainting; she leaned more heavily on St. Eval's arm; though her heart beat almost audibly, and her cheek vied in its paleness with a marble statue near her, not a word betrayed her emotion. There were many lights within the library, a group was gathered round the centre table, but to Emmeline all was indistinct, not one amongst them could she recognise. Her father hastened towards her, he took her trembling hand in his, and led her gently forward.