_"You_ would not, Miss Vizard," said he, firmly, looking full at her. "If
you think you would, you don't know yourself."

Zoe colored high, and was silent.

Then Lord Uxmoor showed the true English gentleman. "I do hope," said he,
earnestly, though in a somewhat broken voice, "that you will not let this
spoil the pleasure we had planned together. Harrington will be my
deputy."

"Well, I don't know," said Harrington, sympathizingly. Mr. Severne
remarked, "Such an occurrence puts pleasure out of one's head." This he
said, with his eyes on his plate, like one repeating a lesson. "Vizard, I
entreat you," said Uxmoor, almost vexed. "It will only make me more
unhappy if you don't."

"We will go," cried Zoe, earnestly; "we promise to go. What does it
matter? We shall think of you and your poor friend wherever we are. And I
shall pray for him. But, ah, I know how little prayers avail to avert
these cruel bereavements." She was young, but old enough to have prayed
hard for her sick mother's life, and, like the rest of us, prayed in
vain. At this remembrance the tears ran undisguised down her cheeks.

The open sympathy of one so young and beautiful, and withal rather
reserved, made Lord Uxmoor gulp, and, not to break down before them all,
he blurted out that he must go and pack: with this he hurried away.

He was unhappy. Besides the calamity he dreaded, it was grievous to be
torn away from a woman he loved at first sight, and just when she had
come out so worthy of his love: she was a high-minded creature; she had