"Dear me," stammers Dora, in pretty confusion, "who would have thought
it? I was never so amazed in my life."

Sir Adrian, who has turned very pale, and is looking greatly distressed,
makes no reply. He is repeating over and over again to himself the words
he has just heard, as though unable or unwilling to comprehend them. "I
care nothing for Sir Adrian!" They strike like a knell upon his ears--a
death-knell to all his dearest hopes. And that fellow on his knees
before her, kissing her hand, and telling her he will still hope! Hope
for what? Alas, he tells himself, he knows only too well--her love!

"I am so glad they have made it up," Dora goes on, looking up
sympathetically at Sir Adrian.

"Made it up? I had no idea they were more than ordinary and very new
acquaintances."

"It is quite a year since we first met Arthur in Switzerland," responds
Dora demurely, calling Dynecourt by his Christian name, a thing she has
never done before, because she knows it will give Sir Adrian the
impression that they are on very intimate terms with his cousin. "He has
been our shadow ever since. I wonder you did not notice his devotion in
town."

"I noticed nothing," says Sir Adrian, miserably; "or, if I did, it was
only to form wrong impressions. I firmly believed, seeing Miss Delmaine
and Arthur together here, that she betrayed nothing but a rooted dislike
to him."