'Well, Milly,' I said, 'I remarked something myself, I thought, like confidential relations; but if you really saw them kiss on the staircase, the question is pretty well settled.' 'Ay, lass.' 'You're not to say _lass_.' 'Well, _Maud, then_. I did see them with the corner of my eye, and my back turned, when they did not think I could spy anything, as plain as I see you now.' I laughed again; but I felt an odd pang--something of mortification--something of regret; but I smiled very gaily, as I stood before the glass, un-making my toilet preparatory to bed. 'Maud--Maud--fickle Maud!--What, Captain Oakley already superseded! and Mr. Carysbroke--oh! humiliation--engaged.' So I smiled on, very much vexed; and being afraid lest I had listened with too apparent an interest to this impostor, I sang a verse of a gay little chanson, and tried to think of Captain Oakley, who somehow had become rather silly. CHAPTER XLIII _NEWS AT BARTRAM GATE_ Milly and I, thanks to our early Bartram hours, were first down next morning; and so soon as Cousin Monica appeared we attacked her. 'So Lady Mary is the _fiancée_ of Mr. Carysbroke,' said I, very cleverly; 'and I think it was very wicked of you to try and involve me in a flirtation with him yesterday.' 'And who told you that, pray?' asked Lady Knollys, with a pleasant little laugh. 'Milly and I discovered it, simple as we stand here,' I answered. 'But you did not flirt with Mr. Carysbroke, Maud, did you?' she asked. 'No, certainly not; but that was not your doing, wicked woman, but my discretion. And now that we know your secret, you must tell us all about her, and all about him; and in the first place, what is her name--Lady Mary what?' I demanded. 'Who would have thought you so cunning? Two country misses--two little nuns from the cloisters of Bartram! Well, I suppose I must answer. It is vain trying to hide anything from you; but how on earth did you find it out?' 'We'll tell you that presently, but you shall first tell us who she is,' I persisted. 'Well, that I will, of course, without compulsion. She is Lady Mary Carysbroke,' said Lady Knollys. 'A relation of Mr. Carysbroke's,' I asserted. 'Yes, a relation; but who told you he was Mr. Carysbroke?' asked Cousin Monica. 'Milly told me, when we saw him in the Windmill Wood.' 'And who told you, Milly?' 'It was L'Amour,' answered Milly, with her blue eyes very wide open. 'What does the child mean? L'Amour! You don't mean _love_?' exclaimed Lady Knollys, puzzled in her turn. 'I mean old Wyat; _she_ told me and the Governor.' 'You're _not_ to say that,' I interposed. 'You mean your father?' suggested Lady Knollys. 'Well, yes; father told her, and so I knew him.'