she gave me cause to be so; but you know how impossible it is to feel angry with her for long. I want to see her. Would you like me to ask her to stay with me while you are away ?" "It is better not," said Philip; "she will have to lead a quiet country life at Hatherleigh, and a week or ten days with you in the midst of the season is a preface which will not tend to her contentment."

Philip and Lady Dunsmore always spoke their minds to one another. She was not annoyed in the least at his answer.

"Very well," she said; "but I must go and see her. I am glad you are going to marry her, Philip; she is lovely, and she is lovable, but wants quieting down; she is too changeable;" and again she eyed Philip keenly, but whatever was the under meaning of her words it was one which he did not understand.

After this the talk ran on a dozen indifferent things-from Guernsey cows to the last opera, until we came to our home.

I saw Philip off for his journey to Hatherleigh the next morning. It was a Friday; he meant to be home again by the next Thursday, or, if not then, on the Saturday in the same week. The wedding-day was to be the Wednesday after that, not quite a fortnight away, so quickly had matters advanced since Constance came up from Devonshire. It was very dismal when I got home in the evening, to sit facing Philip's empty chair; the final breaking-up of the old home and companionship had come very near, and I grew restless and uneasy when I thought of the future. What should I do when Philip was gone for ever? Many married persons are less together than we were. Never, except during our holiday-time, was one of us out and the other in for a whole evening. Of course I could marry, if I wished to; but I had only seen one woman who would suit me, and I doubted much if she would marry me. Mrs. Rogers was going with Philip, and I should have to seek other lodgings; in fact my world was altogether out of joint. I tried to feel resigned, and, failing in that, lighted my candle and went to bed, only to awake next day more restless still. I could not try another lonely evening, so I dressed and went alone to the Opera. I smiled a little smile to myself as I paid for my ticket. What wicked extravagance we should have thought it, to pay so much for an evening's amusement, in the old times. Now it was nothing. Money was no longer of consequence to me. Yet I sighed for those bygone days, when we saved and calculated, and thought more of shillings than we did now of pounds. Then I should never have gone to the Opera alone.

Patti's voice drove away all these unhappy thoughts. The house was full, the applause deafening. When the curtain fell on the first act, and the noise ceased, two gentlemen behind me commenced a

conversation which I could not avoid hearing, to which fact they were quite indifferent.

"There she is, in a front box-don't you see her?" said one.

"Yes, I see who you mean-who is she?"

"That's what I want to know; she is by long odds the handsomest woman in the house."

"What splendid eyes!"

"And hair."

"Who are you fellows talking about?" asked a new voice.

"There's a girl with Lady Dunsmore in the Duke of Durham's box, do you know who she is?"

"Of course I do; she's the girl who jilted Alton, Miss Le Geyt. I danced with her at Lady Dunsmore's last year; she is an uncommonlooking girl, very handsome."

"The Duke seems to think so."

"Old Durham?" said the new-comer laughing; "let me see-so he does, by George! The girl will be a duchess, I'll wager she will— he can never stand those eyes."

"Who is this Miss Le Geyt?"

Long before this I saw the object of their admiration. It was indeed Constance; she sat in the front row, with Lady Dunsmore on her right hand, and His Grace of Durham on her left. She wore, as usual, a white dress, and over it a scarlet cloak, then much the fashion; these, with her brilliant complexion, bright eyes, and golden hair, made her a mark for many eyes. Her head was slightly bent, in a pretty listening attitude, towards the Duke. Whichever of his many platitudes, for he never talked but in platitudes, he was inflicting upon her, she showed no signs of weariness, but smiled as if she found his conversation to the highest degree lively and entertaining. Lady Dunsmore would have been quite neglected had it not been for a lady, sufficiently like the Duke to be his sister, who, sitting just behind, leant forward to talk with her.

The opera went on, but the music had lost its charm. The new turn of events engrossed my attention. This was how Lady Dunsmore respected Philip's wishes. What would he say when he returned? Probably nothing, but it was scarcely wise of Lady Dunsmore.

All through the evening the Duke sat by Constance's side, paying her every possible attention; and the men behind me talked, laughed, and joked about it, calling it the last new sensation, the Duke of Durham smitten by some unknown Phillis, and so on, until I was half distracted for Philip's sake. What would he have thought had he heard it? he who often said that a woman who allowed herself to be lightly spoken of deserved all that could be said of her? I stayed until the opera was over, and had the satisfaction of seeing Constance on the Duke's arm, waiting for Lady Dunsmore's carriage.

Ought I to write to Philip? This was a question which occurred to me more than once on my way home, and which would be answered. If I wrote he might be vexed that I had acted in any way as a spy upon Constance, for lovers are never very just, and Constance would be angry if she knew that I had written to tell him where she was. If I did not write and harm came of it, how much I should blamie myself, and how much Philip would blame me! I was quite bewildered between the two arguments, when a sudden thought postponed the difficulty. It was too late that night for the northern mail, and no post leaves London on a Sunday, so I might quite as well wait until Monday-something might happen before then which would be decisive. Could I have written a letter on ordinary matters, and mentioned casually that I had seen Constance at the Opera with Lady Dunsmore, the question would have been easy enough. I would have written at once, but, just before he left, Philip had said: "I shall not be away more than ten days at the utmost, so you need not forward any letters, nor write, unless something very unusual happens."

We both hated letter-writing, so now I knew that Philip would be surprised to receive a letter from me, and, on reading it, would see at once why I had written. Let that be as it might, the time was gone for that night's post, and until Monday it was useless to write.

Monday came, and I had decided not to send any letter to Philip. I had no special call to do so, and both he and Constance might be annoyed at any suspicions on my part. My restless dread of something evil in the immediate future hung over me all day. I could find neither ease for my body nor peace for my mind, and my own company was intolerable to me. A card for a dance at Mrs. George Hamilton's was standing among others on the chimney-piece at home. I resolved to go there, and get rid of that dreadful 'I' whose company so wearied me, for a few hours at least.

The dancing-room was full when I arrived; a waltz was being played, and dozens of people were dancing. At first sight I found no acquaintances among the crowd. After a minute a couple whirled past me whom surely I knew? Yes, indeed I did. It was Constance, and her partner was no other than the Duke of Durham. I never thought him capable of a waltz before. Next I espied Lady Dunsmore, on a sofa between two dowagers; then I saw Miss Vyvyan. The dance being over, I went at once across the room, meaning to speak to Lady Dunsmore; but just at that minute an old gentleman walked up to her, and led her off to the card-room. After this disappointment I found Miss Vyvyan, and engaged her for the next waltz. Before the dance began we stood awhile talking. We had not met since Philip and I left Excombe the previous September. After a few stock questions and answers, she said:

"Miss Le Geyt is here-have you seen her?"

"Yes, dancing with the Duke of Durham."

"She is the star of the evening; every one is wondering who she is."

"Were you long at Excombe after we left?" I asked abruptly, for I thought she could tell me something which I was curious to know.

"Only a week."

"Then you do not know why her engagement with Lord Alton was broken off?"

"Yes, I do know-don't you?"

"No, and I should like to."

"Please do not ask me; I do not care to tell you, because you are such a friend of Mr. Leigh's, and Lady Dunsmore and Miss Le Geyt had rather it was not talked of."

"Do you like Constance?" I said.

"I cannot help myself, she is so very winning; she was so pleasant and friendly to me while we were together at Excombe. I do like her, for some things. But, Mr. Linton, now that you have asked me so many questions, let me ask you one.-Is what I hear true, that she will be the Duchess of Durham ?"

"Good heavens! I hope not!" I exclaimed.

Her eyes asked for an explanation. I muttered something of surprise, when fortunately for me the music struck up, and the dancing began. I hoped that Miss Vyvyan would forget my hasty exclamation, but she did not.

"You have made me curious now," she said, when the dance was over. "Do tell me, if I am not inquisitive in asking, why you hope that Miss Le Geyt will not marry the Duke. It seems such a great marriage for her. Do you think him too old ?"

Because I happen to know that she is to be married to Mr. Leigh on next Wednesday week."

"Is she indeed ?"

I determined to ask Lady Dunsmore, before the evening was over, how Constance came to be there. It was no affair of mine, it is true, but I wanted to know, and I did. I went to the card-room in search of Lady Dunsmore; between it and the dancing-room lay a small ante-chamber which I passed through. There, on a sofa, sat Constance, playing with her bouquet, a magnificent one, and smiling at some remark of the Duke's, who stood beside her talking eagerly. She coloured furiously when she saw me, and gave me a cool bow. I went straight on, acknowledging it, and no more. Lady Dunsmore was playing whist. As I stood watching the game, and waiting for an opportunity of speaking to her, her quick eye caught sight of me in a minute. She was not one to shrink from disagreeables; directly the game was over she rose, and took my arm.

VOL. XL.

2 L

"I must go back to the dancers," she said, "and look after Constance; I suppose you have seen her, Mr. Linton ?"

Yes, Lady Dunsmore, I have seen her."

"I know what you mean-you are surprised and indignant to see her here with me."

"Yes, a little, after hearing Philip's wishes on the subject.' "You have no right to question my doings," she said, half defiantly, half nervously.

"Not the least."

"Indeed I could not help myself," she said. "Constance was so glad to see me, and so dull in that stupid place, She seemed quite delighted at the idea of a drive in the Park. I could not help asking her for one day, and then for the whole time. There, I own my weakness; I cannot deny her anything, nor yet scold her. Don't tell Philip she is with me; wait until he comes home; she is only enjoying herself, and there is no harm in that."

"Is there not ?" I asked as we came to the door of the ante-room, after our pause in the card-room.

There sat Constance, and there stood the Duke, as when I had left them. How Lady Dunsmore frowned! She went towards them, and commenced talking to the Duke. After a minute she requested him to give her his arm as far as the next room. As soon as they were gone Constance turned on me, with flashing eyes. "Mr. Linton, what are you so angry about? and why are you so anxious to watch my actions, and to tell Lady Dunsmore of them ?"

"If your actions are honest and good you need not fear their being seen. I was surprised to find you here because Philip did not wish it."

"Lady Dunsmore came, and begged me to stay with her. Philip will not be angry, and I cannot see what right you have to be so. I will ask him how he likes me to be watched and spied."

The colour rose in her face, her eyes gleamed with anger, she drew herself up, and walking away, left me alone. Once more she had shown the temper which appeared the night we drove to Excombe. Here was an end of all chance that Hatherleigh would always have a welcome for me, or that Philip and I would be the same to each other after his marriage as we were before. In heart we might be, but otherwise it was not possible. How can a man see much of another man with whom his wife has quarrelled? Is he likely to do so when he adores that wife and she considers herself outraged? I came away from that dance with only one pleasant remembrance, the bright eyes and honest face of Laura Vyvyan. As for Constance and Lady Dunsmore, they seemed to pursue a most crooked policy. How could Philip be ignorant of where Constance was if she wrote to him--and of course she did write to him-or had Lady Dunsmore only asked me