eyes as they flit before the eyes of all imaginative dreamers."

"Not a word did I say to Mr. Margrave of such peculiarities in Lilian; not
a word more than what I have told you, on my honour!"

Still incredulous, but disguising my incredulity with that convenient
smile by which we accomplish so much of the polite dissimulation
indispensable to the decencies of civilized life, I took my departure,
returned home, and wrote to Lilian.




CHAPTER XXVIII.

The conversation with Mrs. Poyntz left my mind restless and disquieted. I
had no doubt, indeed, of Lilian's truth; but could I be sure that the
attentions of a young man, with advantages of fortune so brilliant, would
not force on her thoughts the contrast of the humbler lot and the duller
walk of life in which she had accepted as companion a man removed from her
romantic youth less by disparity of years than by gravity of pursuits?
And would my suit now be as welcomed as it had been by a mother even so
unworldly as Mrs. Ashleigh? Why, too, should both mother and daughter
have left me so unprepared to hear that I had a rival; why not have
implied some consoling assurance that such rivalry need not cause me
alarm? Lilian's letters, it is true, touched but little on any of the
persons round her; they were filled with the outpourings of an ingenuous
heart, coloured by the glow of a golden fancy. They were written as if in
the wide world we two stood apart alone, consecrated from the crowd by the
love that, in linking us together, had hallowed each to the other. Mrs.