"But I have seen him. You remember I went to plead for Lionel and Sophy --in vain!" "Not in vain. George writes me word that he has informed you of Darrell's consent to their marriage. And I am much mistaken if his greatest consolation in the pang that consent must have cost him be not the thought that it relieves you from the sorrow and remorse his refusal had occasioned to you. Ah! there is but one person who can restore Darrell to the world-and that is yourself!" Lady Montfort shook her head drearily. "If I had but an excuse--with dignity--with self-respect--to--to--!' "An excuse! You have an absolute necessity to communicate with Darrell. You have to give him these documents--to explain how you came by them. Sophy is with him; you are bound to see her on a subject of such vital importance to herself. Scruples of prudery! You, Caroline Lyndsay, the friend of his daughter--you whose childhood was reared in his very house --you whose mother owed to him such obligations--you to scruple in being the first to acquaint him with information affecting him so nearly! And why, forsooth? Because, ages ago, your hand was, it seems, engaged to him, and you were deceived by false appearances, like a silly young girl as you were." Again Lady Montfort shook her head drearily--drearily. "Well," said the Colonel, changing his tone, "I will grant that those former ties can't be renewed now. The man now is as old as the hills, and you had no right to expect that he would have suffered so much at being very naturally jilted for a handsome young Marquess." "Cease, sir, cease," cried Caroline, angrily. The Colonel coolly persisted.