“Heaven alone can solve that question for us at present,” returned her husband. “Can it be that he has learnt any thing--that he suspects aught of the past? No--no: that is impossible! But ever since the discovery of his real parentage, he has been altered;--sometimes moody and thoughtful--at others petulant and hasty,--now unnaturally gay and excited--then deeply depressed and melancholy,--but never unruly and overbearing, disobedient and rebellious, as he has shown himself this forenoon.” “’Tis easy to perceive, I fear, that he is troubled by the mystery which induced us to conceal his position with regard to us,” said Lady Georgiana;--“and likewise--yes, likewise,” she added hesitatingly, “the circumstance that he still passes as our nephew weighs upon his mind!” “Oh! this is a terrible retribution for my sins!--an awful punishment for the foul misdeeds of my earlier years!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, wringing his hands bitterly. “My dear husband,” said Lady Georgiana, whose turn it now was to console; “give not way thus to your sorrow! Let us hope that he will repent of this strange unruliness of conduct----” “Alas! I have sad forebodings of evil!” cried the unhappy man. “I fear that he has formed some unworthy connexion, Georgiana: but let us dissemble our sorrow--let us not afflict the Earl and the amiable Esther by giving them any account of the occurrences of this day.” “And yet what can we say respecting the union that was contemplated between their amiable daughter and our son?” demanded Lady Georgiana, in an anxious tone. “We will by some means find an excuse for the embarrassment and coldness of manner which Charles exhibited at the breakfast-table,” returned Mr. Hatfield; “and I will seek the earliest opportunity to reason with him fully and calmly upon the subject.” “If he should have formed an attachment elsewhere----” “That is scarcely probable, when we come to look calmly at the matter--since he yesterday morning declared his affection to Frances.” “Alas! ’tis a mystery which pains and alarms me,” said Lady Georgiana. “A mystery which I will penetrate, my dear wife!” exclaimed Mr. Hatfield, in a resolute--almost stern tone of voice. “But for the present, it is useless to hazard a conjecture.” CHAPTER CXXXV. CHARLES HATFIELD AND MRS. FITZHARDINGE. It was a little after twelve o’clock when Charles Hatfield reached the house in Suffolk Street. “Is Miss Fitzhardinge at home?” he enquired of the female servant who answered his summons at the door. “Have the kindness to walk up into the drawing-room, sir,” was the response; and, with beating heart, the young man followed the domestic into the apartment where he expected again to behold his beauteous Perdita. But, to his disappointment--a disappointment which he could not conceal, he found himself in the presence of her mother.