He waited for a few minutes, and resumed the attack, but without effect; and just as he was gazing despairingly in his niece's face Sir John entered, looking inquiringly at both, when Glynne went smilingly to his side at once, and laid her hands upon his breast. "Dear father," she said tenderly, "let my last few hours at home be undisturbed by pain." "My darling," said Sir John softly, "you are mistress here. Jem, old fellow, you have spoken." "Delivered my charge, Jack, and failed. I retire broken from the field." Glynne held out her hand to him, and when he took it she leaned towards him to kiss his lips. About an hour later Mason the maid learned a secret which she afterwards confided to her intimates in the servants' hall. Mason went up to Glynne's bedroom to carry there a lately-arrived packet containing a portion of her mistress's _trousseau_. She had hardly entered the room when she noted that the door connecting it with Glynne's little study was ajar, and a sigh taught her that it was occupied. "I'll take it in, and she'll open it at once," thought Mason, who was burning with curiosity to see the contents of the package; and, going lightly across to the door, she pressed it open, and then stood petrified at the scene before her. For Glynne was kneeling before a chair with her face buried in her hands sobbing violently, while in piteous tones she breathed out the agony of her heart in the wild appeal,-- "Heaven help me and give me strength! It is more than I can bear." Volume 3, Chapter VII. A PROBLEM OF CONJUNCTION. Want of exercise and incessant study had placed their effects on Alleyne. The greyness was showing in streaks in his hair, and the lines seemed deeper in his forehead, as Lucy came gently into the observatory where her brother was apparently intent upon some tremendous problem. Lucy, too, looked thinner than of old. There was a careworn aspect in her face, and her eyes told tales of tears more often shed than is the custom with young ladies as a rule. As she entered the observatory and closed the door, she stood gazing at her brother with her hands clasped, thinking of the money that had been expended upon his scientific pursuits, keeping them all exceedingly poor, and, for result, helping to make Alleyne a worn and old-looking man. What a thing it seemed, she thought; how changed their home and all their simple life had become, and all through their proximity to Brackley. "I wish we had gone away from here months upon months ago," she said to herself impatiently. "We might have been so happy anywhere else. And I thought, too, that everything was going to be so pleasant, with Glynne for my companion, only people seemed to have leagued themselves against us; and I'm sure there's no harm in either poor Moray or myself, only we couldn't help liking someone else. Heigho!" "Who's that?" cried Alleyne, starting, for Lucy's sigh had been uttered aloud. "Oh, you, Lucy," he said, dropping his eyes again.