rest of the grave that she extended her unreluctant gaze, as to the
light and glory of a renewed and progressive existence.

It was while thus they sat, the low voice of Ernest, tranquil yet half
trembling with the emotions he sought to restrain--sometimes sobering,
sometimes yet more elevating, the thoughts of Florence, that Lord
Vargrave was announced, and Lumley Ferrers, who had now succeeded to
that title, entered the room. It was the first time that Florence had
seen him since the death of his uncle--the first time Maltravers
had seen him since the evening so fatal to Florence. Both
started--Maltravers rose and walked to the window. Lord Vargrave took
the hand of his cousin and pressed it to his lips in silence, while his
looks betokened feelings that for once were genuine.

"You see, Lumley, I am resigned," said Florence, with a sweet smile.
"I am resigned and happy."

Lumley glanced at Maltravers, and met a cold, scrutinising, piercing
eye, from which he shrank with some confusion. He recovered himself in
an instant.

"I am rejoiced, my cousin, I /am/ rejoiced," said he, very earnestly,
"to see Maltravers here again. Let us now hope the best."

Maltravers walked deliberately up to Lumley. "Will you take my hand
/now/, too?" said he, with deep meaning in his tone.

"More willingly than ever," said Lumley; and he did not shrink as he
said it.