"You are too generous, madam," said Egerton, evidently moved, though
still, as ever, striving to repress emotion. "And now may I see the
young lady? This conference pains me; you see even my strong nerves
quiver; and at this time I have much to go through,--need of all my
strength and firmness."

"I hear, indeed, that the Government will probably retire. But it is
with honour: it will be soon called back by the voice of the nation."

"Let me see the future wife of Harley L'Estrange," said Egerton, without
heed of this consolatory exclamation.

The countess rose and left the room. In a few minutes she returned with
Helen Digby.

Helen was wondrously improved from the pale, delicate child, with the
soft smile and intelligent eyes, who had sat by the side of Leonard in
his garret. She was about the middle beight, still slight, but
beautifully formed; that exquisite roundness of proportion which conveys
so well the idea of woman, in its undulating, pliant grace,--formed to
embellish life, and soften away its rude angles; formed to embellish, not
to protect. Her face might not have satisfied the critical eye of an
artist,--it was not without defects in regularity; but its expression was
eminently gentle and prepossessing; and there were few who would not have
exclaimed, "What a lovely countenance!" The mildness of her brow was
touched with melancholy--her childhood had left its traces on her youth.
Her step was slow, and her manner shy, subdued, and timid.

Audley gazed on her with earnestness as she approached him; and then
coming forward, took her hand and kissed it. "I am your guardian's