"Of the lady whose likeness is in your locket; so treasured that a secret spring secures it!" said she, suddenly remembering Dora's words as a means of escape. "Yes, especially with her approval. I should then be happy, indeed. I know not how you came to know of it; but shall I show you the likeness?" "If you choose," said Winifred, thinking in her heart, "Poor fellow, it must be his mother's miniature;" but when Phil touched a spring and the locket flew open she beheld a beautiful coloured photo of _herself_. "Good heavens!" she exclaimed, "how came you by this?" "Hardinge had two in the barracks, and I begged one from him." "Hardinge--Harry Hardinge! That was most unfair of him," said she, her agitation increasing; "he is one of our oldest friends." "May I be permitted to keep it?" "O, no; not there--not there, in a locket at your neck." "Be it so; your slightest wish is law to me; but be assured, Miss Lloyd, the heart near which it lies was never offered to woman before." "I can well believe you; but--hush, here are people coming!" Sir Madoc and Lady Naseby entered the conservatory somewhat hurriedly, followed by two or three of the guests. "Lady Estelle! Is Lady Estelle here?" they asked, simultaneously. "No," replied Caradoc. "Nor Harry Hardinge?" "We are quite alone, papa," said Winifred, in a voice the agitation of which, at another time, must have been apparent to all; for no woman can hear a declaration of love or receive a proposal quite unconcerned, especially from a handsome young fellow who was so earnest as Philip Caradoc; around whom the coming departure for the seat of war shed a halo of melancholy interest, and who, by the artless production of the locket, proved that he had loved her for some time past, and secretly too. "What the deuce is the meaning of this?" exclaimed Sir Madoc, with an expression of comicality, annoyance, and alarm mingling in his face; "the servants can nowhere find her!" "Find who?" asked Lord Pottersleigh, opening his snuffbox as he shambled forward. "Why, Lady Estelle." His lordship took a pinch, paused for the refreshing titillation of a sneeze, and then said, "Indeed--surprising--very!" "And Hardinge is missing, too, you say?" said Phil. "How odd!" "Odd! egad, I think it _is_ odd; they have not been seen by any one for more than two hours, and a regular storm has come on!" Phil and Miss Lloyd had been too much occupied, or they must have remarked the bellowing of the wind without and the sudden darkening of the atmosphere. "O papa, papa!" exclaimed Dora, now rushing in from the lawn, "something dreadful must have happened. I left them on the verge of the cliffs; returning to look for the bracelet you gave me, I met my partner, Mr. Clavell of the 19th; we began dancing again, and I forgot all about them." "On the cliffs!" exclaimed several voices, reprehensibly and fearfully.