endearment, and an eager hand seeking hers. Had she dreamt it? The face
was impassive, the hand dropped, and a careless voice was saying,--

"Are you really going home this afternoon, Miss Leigh?"

At the same instant she observed Cecil's upturned eyes in the hall below
them. So she had the felicity of eating a cutlet in the presence of her
love, but received no aliment for her heart-hunger. Du Meresq was teazing
his nieces, and did not add much to the general conversation, but the
others made up for it, and, when they addressed Bluebell, did so in a
particularly cheery tone, as to a nervous, fanciful girl, not to be
encouraged or noticed in her blue fits. She had thought of walking home
late in the afternoon, still hoping that something might bring about some
last words with Du Meresq, or that he might even contrive to join her on
the road; but Mrs. Rolleston, in the tone of one proposing a pleasure,
said she would drive her back herself, and that the sleigh was ordered in
half-an-hour.

Bluebell, goaded to mild exasperation, glanced hastily to where Bertie
had been sitting, but he had left the room unperceived.

The sleigh was at the door, so also was Captain Du Meresq, smoking an
after-luncheon cigar. I grieve to say my heroine displayed not a particle
of self-respect as, pale and dejected, she seated herself by Mrs.
Rolleston. Indeed, the blue eyes were beginning to swim, when they were
dried by a flash of indignation at the parting words of Du Meresq. He
merely raised his hat, without attempting to shake hands, and said, in a
jesting tone,--"_Au revoir_, Miss Bluebell. I hope you will be a comfort
to your mamma."