out signals of distress? Did she wish to be protected against herself,—applauded for such efforts as she had already made? I did n't rush forward, I was not precipitate, for I felt that now, surely, I should be able at my convenience to execute my commission. What concerned me was not to prevent Lady Vandeleur's marrying Mr. Tester, but to prevent Mr. Tester's marrying her. In a few moments—with the same irrelevance—she announced to me that he wished to, and asked whether I didn't know it. I saw that this was my chance, and instantly, with extreme energy, I exclaimed,—
"Ah, for Heaven's sake don't listen to him! It would kill Miss Bernardstone!"
The tone of my voice made her color a little, and she repeated, "Miss Bernardstone?"
"The girl he is engaged to,—or has been,—don't you know? Excuse me, I thought every one knew."
"Of course I know he is dreadfully entangled. He was fairly hunted down." Lady Vandeleur was silent a moment, and then she added, with a strange smile, "Fancy, in such a situation, his wanting to marry me!"
"Fancy!" I replied. I was so struck with the oddity of her telling me her secrets that for the moment my indignation did not come to a head,—my indignation, I mean, at her accusing poor Lady Emily (and even the girl herself) of having "trapped" our friend. Later I said to myself that I supposed
