"No; it stands out in my memory as one night among many happy ones. Day was almost breaking when you led me to the carriage, I remember." "Can you remember nothing more?' I asked, earnestly. "You shawled me most attentively--" "And I was whispering--" "Something foolish, no doubt; men are apt to do so at such times," she replied, while her white eyelids quivered and she looked up at me with her calm, bright smile. "Something foolish!" thought I, reproachfully; "and then, as now, my soul seemed on my lips." "Do you admire Mr. Guilfoyle's singing?" she asked, after a little pause, to change the subject probably. "His voice is unquestionably good and highly cultured," said I, praising him truthfully enough to conceal the intense annoyance her unexpected question gave me; "but, by the way, Lady Estelle, how does it come to pass that he has the honour of knowing you--to be _here_, too?" "How--why--what _do_, you mean, Mr. Hardinge?" she asked, and I could perceive that after colouring slightly she grew a trifle paler than before. "He is a visitor here, like you or myself. We met him abroad first; he was most kind to us when mamma lost all her passports at the Berlin Eisenbahnhof, and he accompanied us to the Alte Leipziger Strasse for others, and saw us safely to our carriage. Then, by the most singular chances, we met him again at the new Kursaal of Ems, at Gerolstein, when we were beginning the tour of the Eifel, and at Baden-Baden. Lastly, we met him at Llandudno, on the beach, quite casually, when driving with Sir Madoc, to whom he said that he knew you--that you were quite old friends, in fact." "Knew me, by Jove! that is rather odd. I only lost some money to him; enough to make me wary for the future." "Wary?" she asked, with dilated eyes. "Yes." "An unpleasant expression, surely. Sir Madoc, who is so hospitable, asked him here to see the lions of Craigaderyn, and has put a gun at his disposal for the twelfth." "How kind of unthinking Sir Madoc! A most satisfactory explanation," said I, cloudily, while gnawing my moustache. Guilfoyle had too evidently followed them. "If any explanation were necessary," was the somewhat haughty response, as the mother-of-pearl fan went faster than ever, and she looked me full in the face with her clear, dark, and penetrating eyes, to the sparkle of which the form of their lids, and their thick fringe of black lash, served to impart a softness that was indeed required. "Do you know anything of him?" she added. "No; that is--" "Anything against him?" "No, Lady Estelle." "What then?" she asked, a little petulantly. "Simply that I, pardon me, think a good deal." "More than you would say?" "Perhaps."