a mind so predisposed to the charm which Mystery itself has for those
whose thoughts fuse their outlines in fancies, whose world melts away into
Dreamland. Therefore I spoke.

"Lilian, at the risk of offending you-alas! I have never done so before
this night--I must address to you a prayer which I implore you not to
regard as the dictate of a suspicion unworthy you and myself. The person
whom you have just heard and seen is, at present, much courted in the
circles of this town. I entreat you not to permit any one to introduce
him to you. I entreat you not to know him. I cannot tell you all my
reasons for this petition; enough that I pledge you my honour that those
reasons are grave. Trust, then, in my truth, as I trust in yours. Be
assured that I stretch not the rights which your heart has bestowed upon
mine in the promise I ask, as I shall be freed from all fear by a promise
which I know will be sacred when once it is given."

"What promise?" asked Lilian, absently, as if she had not heard my words.

"What promise? Why, to refuse all acquaintance with that man; his name is
Margrave. Promise me, dearest, promise me."

"Why is your voice so changed?" said Lilian. "Its tone jars on my ear,"
she added, with a peevishness so unlike her, that it startled me more than
it offended; and without a word further, she quickened her pace, and
entered the house.

For the rest of the evening we were both taciturn and distant towards each
other. In vain Mrs. Ashleigh kindly sought to break down our mutual
reserve. I felt that I had the right to be resentful, and I clung to that
right the more because Lilian made no attempt at reconciliation. This,