Mr. Francis Barold naturally turned, as her ladyship uttered her
granddaughter's name in a tone of command. It may be supposed that his
first intention in turning was to look at Lucia; but he had scarcely done
so, when his attention was attracted by the figure nearest to her,--the
figure of a young lady, who was playing with a little blue fan, and
smiling at him brilliantly and unmistakably.

The next moment he was standing at Octavia Bassett's side, looking rather
pleased, and the blood of Slowbridge was congealing, as the significance
of the situation was realized.

One instant of breathless--of awful--suspense, and her ladyship
recovered herself.

"We will go in to tea," she said. "May I ask you, Mr. Burmistone, to
accompany Miss Pilcher?"




CHAPTER XI.

A SLIGHT INDISCRETION.


During the remainder of the evening, Miss Belinda was a prey to
wretchedness and despair. When she raised her eyes to her hostess, she
met with a glance full of icy significance; when she looked across the
tea-table, she saw Octavia seated next to Mr. Francis Barold,