‘It is dreadful that you should all be going off at once,’ said Mary. ‘Ben did come to bid us good-bye, but Laurie has disappeared without even so much as that. I wish you would tell me something about Laurie, Frank. He must have known somebody better than the Riches surely;--some of those artist people. When you went to see him in town did you never see any of his friends?’ ‘Laurie’s friends?’ said the Guardsman, and it is undeniable that certain confusion stole over him. It was a kind of duel that was taking place between his cousin and himself. They were both of clearer sight than usual, enlightened by experience,--both anxious to find out something they did not know, and conceal something they did. ‘Oh, yes,’ Frank went on carelessly, ‘I have seen several of his friends;--Suffolk, the painter,--though I don’t suppose you ever heard of him; and there is a Mrs. Severn, in Fitzroy Square,--I think he was most intimate there.’ ‘Tell me about her,’ cried Mary. ‘It is so odd of Laurie to go away without coming home; something must have happened to him. It might not be anything of that kind, of course; but tell me,--were there daughters? or any one?’ Frank cleared his throat, nor could he keep a certain glow of colour from mounting to his temples,--most foolish and uncalled for, it was no doubt,--for Mrs. Severn’s household was not, and never could be, anything to him. Either it was Mary’s eyes looking at him so keenly, or simply a little excitement hanging about himself. Or he must have taken cold somehow on the river. ‘Daughters?’ he said. ‘Oh,--well,--children, that’s all; there is one little girl that plays charmingly,’ Frank added, with easy candour; ‘but Laurie never cared for music. I don’t think there’s anything in that.’ ‘And it could not be Miss Rich?’ said Mary, fixing her eyes more keenly than ever on the young fellow’s face. Then his countenance cleared. He was himself unaware of the change of expression, but Mary saw it, and perceived at once that Nelly, though he talked of her so much, was not dangerous ground to Frank. ‘No; frankly, I don’t think it could be Miss Rich,’ he said, with a laugh. ‘I think it would be a capital thing for both; but I cannot say that I believe either of them have thought of it for themselves.’ ‘But this Mrs. Severn----?’ insisted Mary, and she was aware of an immediate gleam of intelligence and embarrassment in his eyes. ‘She is a painter’ said Frank, ‘and a widow, and a very nice woman,--at least I suppose so. To hear Laurie chattering to her you would think he found her so. I cannot say I remarked it particularly myself.’ ‘And young?’ said Mary, breathless with her discovery.