"Will you ratify your pardon, Lady Ellis? Will you promise to forget as well as forgive? I shall never forget or forgive myself." She frankly put her hand into his as she rose. "I have forgiven; I will promise to forget. But then, you know, you must not convert me into a nightmare." "You a nightmare!" he impulsively cried, some of his old lightness returning to him. "If you are, it will be one of a different kind: a nightmare of attraction," he gallantly added, as he offered her his arm. "What did you think of me? Did you take me for a wild animal just arrived from the savage islands?" "No," said Lady Ellis; "that is what you took the Begum for. I found you were under a mistake as soon as you spoke of my sister. I have no sister. But what about your intention of fishing here? I am sorry that I should frustrate it." He bit his lip; he could not conceal his annoyance. "I thought you promised to forget," he softly whispered. "And so I will." "When did you arrive?" "Only an hour or so ago. Just in time to dress for dinner." Leaving Lady Ellis in the drawing-room, he ran upstairs in search of his wife, and found her in the chamber which had been assigned them--a pleasant room, looking towards the lawn. She was at work: making a doll's frock for Fanny Chester. "How hot you look!" she exclaimed, as her husband entered. "Your face is crimson." "My brain is also," he replied. "What do you think?--Lady Ellis is here." "Mrs. Chester told us so. She had a note from her this morning, and she herself arrived at two o'clock." "Clary, I called her the Begum to her face." "Oh!" "I don't know what else I didn't call her: old and ugly, and a nightmare; and said she was coming on an elephant. In short, I did nothing but ridicule her. You see, I took her for that Lydia Clapperton." Mrs. Lake's face turned red in its turn. She was of a refined, deeply-sensitive temperament, ever considerate of the feelings of others. "What apology can you possibly offer, Robert? How can you make your peace?" "I have made it already. She seems thoroughly good-natured, and saw the thing as it was--a misapprehension altogether. I'd rather have given a hundred pounds, though, than it should have happened. Why couldn't Penelope open her mouth and tell me she had come and was in the garden?" He was splashing away at the water, having turned up his cuffs and his wristbands to wash his hands, evidently not on very good terms with himself. His wife put the doll's frock into her little ornamental basket and stood up to wait, watching him brush his hair. Then they were ready to go down. "Clara." "What?" she asked, turning round to him. "Don't speak of this to any one, my darling. It really has annoyed me. I do not suppose Lady Ellis will." "Of course I will not." And he bent his hot face over his wife's, and kissed it by way of thanks. "What is she like?" asked Clara. "Young, and very good-looking."