"I saw you talking very busily," replied Iola, with a smile; "but in truth, dear Constance, I almost fancied you and the good knight had better subjects of conversation than the fate of Iola and Chartley. Well, thank Heaven, we have got another in the plot, who can give us good help too, in the hour of need, perhaps." "A plot!" said Constance, with a look of apprehension. "What plot do you intend to form, Iola?" "Now she is frightened out of her wits!" cried Iola, laughing as merrily as ever. "No plot, dearest cousin. I spoke in my wild way, and gave it a wild name. Only this, Constance, be sure of, that if there be a means of escape--and what may not this respite produce--I will not give my hand to Lord Fulmer--no, even though a convent should be my only refuge, though Heaven knows, thinking as I think, that would be bad enough." "Thinking as you think--I do not understand what you mean, Iola," said her cousin in some surprise. Iola thought gravely for a moment or two, before she spoke; but at length she replied: "Perhaps I am not so devout as you are, Constance, and yet, in some things more devout. There is another enigma for you; but I know a convent would not suit me. You will say, I seemed happy enough in one; but yet I have come to the belief that they are not truly holy or good institutions. To take the vows I should have to take, were I to enter one, to live according to all the rules and ordinances, to go through all the ceremonies, and to make all the professions, I should be a hypocrite, Constance. But to marry this Lord Fulmer, to vow that I will love him when I love another, would make me worse than a hypocrite." Constance gazed at her with a bewildered look; for, though her words were not very plain, yet they created doubts. "I do not know what to think of your language, Iola," she answered. "Holy men, fathers of the church, successors of the apostles, have founded convents, and blessed them. Surely they cannot be evil institutions with such a sanction." Iola laughed, seeming not inclined to grapple with the question; and then, with a playful gesture of the hand, she asked abruptly-- "Would you like now, now as you sit here, to devote yourself for life to one of them?" "That is not a fair question," answered Constance, with a blush and a smile; "but now, let us think, Iola, of what must be your conduct between these two men. To one you are bound by a contract, valid it seems in the eye of the law, and from which you cannot escape, although it was entered into when you had no power to assent or to refuse. To the other you are linked by ties of affection, which are even less easily broken, I do believe." "Most mathematically put, dear cousin," answered Iola, in her old gay tone; "but yet I can hardly reply. I must seek advice of some one who knows more of the world's ways than either you or I do." "My aunt?" suggested Constance. "She will say, there is but one thing to be done--to yield, and make the best of it."