"Listen: I understand this gentleman, and so, I think, do you. He will not dream of asking your consent. He will take it for granted. Let him--let him till the time comes. It will not be long, but we shall have a chance of avoiding éclat. Tell mamma, that though you are not now favourable to Mr. Melcomb, you cannot refuse to see him, and she will be satisfied. And then we shall have the chapter of accidents on our side." "Must I do this, Gertrude?" Mildred exclaimed. "There was a time when I was amused with his compliments, Heaven forgive me! But to listen to them now! Encourage him, I never did. He knew I was laughing. Ah me! If I escape this time, I will never flirt again." "Be not too sure," said Gertrude. "But take your sister's word, no harm will come. And remember, here is your home as a last resort. Come, come," she continued, in answer to a sigh from her sister, "let me take you a drive. You are as pale as Ophelia. But ah, ça ira, ça ira ... do not repeat my revolutionary music to papa." As the sisters rode along, Mrs. Winston turned the conversation to the scene which had occurred at her late party. She had not seen it, nor indeed had any one save those who were mentioned at the time. She brought the colour into Mildred's cheeks, by alluding with a smile, to her retirement with her partner to that unfrequented little room; and she made her heart beat quick by relating all the circumstances which she had learned from Rereworth, who had duly delivered Randolph's message, and taken the opportunity of extolling the merits of his friend. And Gertrude ended by expressing her deep regret at the continuance of the family disagreement, to which her attention had been specifically drawn for the first time, and her hope that it might be approaching its termination. Every word of the narrative increased the interest which was already warm in Mildred's heart, and made her feel a greater repugnance to receiving Melcomb in the equivocal manner recommended by her sister. CHAPTER XV. "Regretter ce qu'on aime est un bien, en comparaison de vivre avec ce que l'on haît." LA BRUYÈRE. Mildred's trial was not destined to last long. Her suitor was more impatient than Mrs. Winston predicted. He would, indeed, as she suggested, have willingly continued to accept a vicarious consent, until things had gone so far that his intended bride should be unable to recede. Hitherto he had given her no opportunity for resistance, and now with all his assurance he dreaded to begin. Mildred's indifference was so chilling that his spirits deserted him in her presence. He would have left her free, but for the fear of ridicule, and the need, the pressing need, of her fortune. The time came to make the plunge. "Miss Pendarrel," Melcomb said, as they sat together in a small drawing-room, "dear Miss Pendarrel, you must be aware how long I have been the most devoted of your servants."