morning, and was full of regrets at his absence; there had been two capital runs, and so forth, although mostly over Sunfern Common, which was not like the grass country: and Yorke found it easy to keep the conversation to that subject, Mr. Hanckes coming up to join, and expressing his sympathy with Yorke in having lost his day's 'unting; for although not a hunting-man himself, he could understand how much the colonel would have enjoyed it, especially in such company. Such a pity too for Miss Cathy to have been obliged to go alone. For Mr. Hanckes had made up his mind that Yorke's attentions were paid to the horsewoman of the family, as became a military man, and was therefore quite easy about his presence in the house. Lucy meanwhile sat in a corner looking over an album of photographs which she had seen a hundred times before.
But when the ladies rose to say goodnight, and Yorke, who was standing near the door, opened it for them, Lucy's face as she passed out, the last of the three ladies, looked so pitiful — he had held out his hand, which she took without raising her eyes — that he relented from his selfish preoccupation.
"Lucy," he said, in a low voice, following her into the hall, "I have to ask your pardon for a hundred sins this evening; but I have been meeting with some very dear friends who are in sore trouble, and I could not shake off the effect it has produced. Can you forgive me if I tell you so much?" and at the look which accompanied these words, and which Lucy's now upraised eyes received, the poor girl's face brightened up at once, and she stood irresolute returning his smile, while the tears of joy came up to relieve the anxious little heart. True, this was not quite what she had expected love-making to be; but then she had not yet quite got over her awe of her lover, and to know that he was her lover seemed sufficient happiness.
She stood still in the hall, waiting for something more to be said, or perhaps trying to say something herself; while Cathy, who had left the room just before her, divining possibly that the conversation was of an interesting nature, had hurried up the staircase and was now out of sight.
"But we must not stand here," continued Yorke with a smile, "or Mr. Hanckes will be jealous;" and Lucy tripped off, her heart dancing with joy.
"Certainly," thought Yorke, as he watched her graceful little figure retreating, the rich brown hair and the handsome toilet seeming to be in keeping with the luxurious surroundings of the scene, "if a man may be satisfied with a pretty face, and a loving heart, and a sweet temper, I must be an ill-conditioned fellow to feel any misgivings."
The die was cast now at any rate, but he felt in no humour for an interview that night with Mr. Peevor; nor was a convenient opportunity afforded for doing so. Mr. Hanckes retired at once, announcing himself to be an early sleeper; and Mr. Peevor apologetically proposed that there should be no billiards that evening, as he had to go to town himself early next day on business. So Yorke sought his room to think over the strange incongruity of his position. So long believing himself to be inconsolable, and now to be establishing new interests, and to have found real happiness in his grasp at last, at the very time when he found himself again in Olivia's presence — to be making love to another woman when his first love, the only woman he used to think whom he ever could love, was in loneliness and suffering hard by. And there came up, too, the sense that a new duty must now fall upon him. He could not minister to Olivia's wants. In her deserted condition anything like familiarity must be guarded against as leading to possible misconception; but could he reconcile it to his duty to be taking his pleasure while Falkland, was hiding his sufferings in some lonely retreat? Was it not his plain duty to devote himself so long as his leave lasted to companionship with Falkland's wrecked fortunes? Life was now very sweet to Yorke; and it was with a full sense of the extent of the sacrifice that he resolved to make it, if Falkland on the morrow should show any disposition for his companionship. But this must not prevent his coming to an understanding with Lucy's father. That was a plain duty too.
But Yorke's was not the age for broken nights, and while arranging his plans for the morrow he soon fell asleep.
CHAPTER LVII.
It seemed to the household of "The Beeches" to be yet early in the night, but in reality it was morning, although still quite dark, when its slumbering inmates were aroused by an alarm of fire. But Yorke, jumping up and huddling on some clothes, could make out soon among the hurried questions and answers exchanged between Mr. Peevor inside his room and the butler without, interrupted exclama-
