"Too late," she said, unwittingly giving him another pang, as she quoted his despairing words of the day when he had last seen Marion. "But, Philip, love, dear husband, recollect yourself," she whispered imploringly; and then, trying to recover her composure, she rose as Sir Murray and Lady Gernon entered the room--the former courtly and at ease, the latter to run to Ada, throw her arms round her neck, and kiss her fondly, holding her for a few moments to her throbbing breast, while, overcome by the warmth of the greeting, Mrs Norton as lovingly returned the embrace. To her great delight, though, as she raised her eyes from her cousin, it was to see that, quite composed and courteously, Philip Norton had advanced to meet his guest, they had shaken hands, and Norton had now turned to greet Marion. Ada's heart palpitated, and she hardly dared watch her husband, but turned to look at Sir Murray, who was narrowly scanning every glance and act. But Lady Gernon's greeting of her old lover was graceful, kind, and yet dignified; her every word and look was unimpeachable, and Ada Norton's agitation gave place to a feeling of thankfulness as she saw her husband take Marion's hand without a shade crossing his countenance, press it slightly in a frank greeting, and then place for her a chair; when, apparently himself relieved, Sir Murray engaged his wife's cousin in conversation, his old stiff, courtly manner being more proud and polished than ever, as he talked of their long absence, the changes that had taken place, expressing, too, a hope that he should see her often at the Castle. "Will you take me into the garden, Captain Norton?" said Lady Gernon, in a low tone. "I have something to say to you." Then aloud: "Do you not find the weather very oppressive? I am always longing for the fresh air." The remark was too pointed to escape observation, for Lady Gernon was no way skilled in subterfuge, while Norton hesitated for an instant, and there was a slight change in his countenance as he rose, saying: "You have probably not seen our poor place, Lady Gernon; will you walk round?" She rose on the instant and took his arm, and they passed through the French window on to the lawn, while, half rising, Ada Norton looked anxiously in Sir Murray's face. "No," he replied calmly, as, with a bitter smile on his lip, he read off her unspoken words. "I think we will stay. They will probably return directly;" and then he started, in a cool and indolent way, a fresh topic of conversation, to which, in the agitation she could not conceal, Ada could but reply in monosyllables. "Well, Marion," said Norton, calmly, as they stood amidst the flower-beds of the little parterre, "you wish to speak to me?"