was, said he could not undertake to recommend Miss Ponsonby to
continue her journey.'

'And this was all?' exclaimed Louis, too intent on his own views for
anything but relief.

'All? Is it not enough to set her free? She acquiesced in my
judgment that she could do no otherwise than return. She wrote to
her father, and I sent three lines to inform him that, under the
circumstances, I fulfilled my promise to her mother by taking her
home. I had nearly made her promise that, should we find you about
to form an establishment of your own, she would consider herself as
my child; but--'

'Oh, father! how shall we make her believe you care nothing for her
scruple? The wretched man! But--oh! where is she?'

'It does not amount to a scruple in her case,' deliberately resumed
the Earl. 'I always knew what Ponsonby was, and nothing from him
coldd surprise me--even such an outrage on feeling and decency.
Besides, he has effectually shut himself out of society, and degraded
himself beyond the power of interfering with you. For the rest, Mary
is already, in feeling, so entirely my child, that to have the right
to call her so has always been my fondest wish. And, Louis, the
months I have spent with her have not diminished my regard. My Mary!
she will have a happier lot than her mother!'

The end of the speech rewarded Louis for the conflict by which he had
kept himself still to listen to the beginning. Lord Ormersfield had
pity on him, and went in search of Mary; while he, remembering former