she had made. None of the former servants but old Bedford remained with
them, and till Paul chose to renew the old friendship it was best to
remain silent. Great was the surprise and delight of our lady and Hester
at the good fortune of their protege, and many the conjectures as to how
he would explain his hasty flight.

"You will go and see him, won't you, Mamma, or at least inquire about
him?" said Lillian, eager to assure the wanderer of a welcome, for those
few words of his had satisfied her entirely.

"No, dear, it is for him to seek us, and till he does, I shall make no
sign. He knows where we are, and if he chooses he can renew the
acquaintance so strangely broken off. Be patient, and above all things
remember, Lillian, that you are no longer a child," replied my lady,
rather disturbed by her daughter's enthusiastic praises of Paul.

"I wish I was, for then I might act as I feel, and not be afraid of
shocking the proprieties." And Lillian went to bed to dream of her hero.

For three days she stayed at home, expecting Paul, but he did not come,
and she went out for her usual ride in the Park, hoping to meet him. An
elderly groom now rode behind her, and she surveyed him with extreme
disgust, as she remembered the handsome lad who had once filled that
place. Nowhere did Paul appear, but in the Ladies' Mile she passed an
elegant brougham in which sat a very lovely girl and a mild old lady.

"That is Talbot's fiancee," said Maud Churchill, who had joined her.
"Isn't she beautiful?"

"Not at all--yes, very," was Lillian's somewhat peculiar reply, for