36 THE MASTEit OF THE HOUNDS. 



CoDyers now came up with "Well, ladies, all's well that 

 ends well j and, now that we are all friends again, I may just 

 tell you what detained us so long in the dining-room " — which 

 he did as shortly as possible, speaking in high terms of Beau- 

 champ's cool and gentlemanly conduct. 



" Then there is to be no duel to-morrow 1 " inquired Mrs. 

 Gordon, anxiously. 



" None, my dea^: madam, I assure you ; everything is ami- 

 cably settled ; and, instead of fighting. Will has accepted an 

 invitation to breakfast with Lord Mervyn on this day month." 



" Are you not deceiving me, Mr. Conyers 1 " 



" No, on my honour, Mrs. Gordon ; and to satisfy you still 

 further, I will send Beauchamp here directly, to show you the 

 entry in his pocket-book." 



As Beauchamp approached them, the colour suddenly re- 

 turned to Miss Douglas's face, suffusing her cheeks and brow, 

 which, not unnoticed by Mrs. Gordon, revealed to her a secret 

 unknown to Blanche herself until that moment, that she loved 

 William Beauchamp. She had long looked upon him as a dear 

 friend, but had hitherto remained totally unconscious of any 

 deeper feeling towards him, when the sudden revelation made 

 by Captain Markham of his life, perhaps, being at stake, sent a 

 thrilling, suffocating sensation circling round her heart, to which 

 she had hitherto been a stranger. Her ill-concealed trepidation 

 at his approach delightfully confirmed Mrs. Gordon in her long- 

 indulged hopes that William Beauchamp might become the 

 object of her niece's choice. 



" William," exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, as he stood before her, 

 " I have sent for you to hear an account from your own lips of 

 this unpleasant yracas with Lord Mervyn, whom, I am told, it 

 was your intention to challenge to-morrow morning." 



For a moment Blanche's face was raised to his to scan his 

 looks. Their eyes met, and by that quick, hurried glance, 

 Beauchamp seemed entranced, riveted to the spot ; for a 

 moment the full spell of fascination was upon him, as he gazed 

 in silent surprise on the varying colour and trembhng form of 

 Blanche Douglas. 



"William!" suddenly exclaimed Mrs. Gordon, in a sharp 

 tone, " what ails you to-night 1 — are you tipsy or crazy ? '* 



" Neither tipsy nor crazy, dear Mrs. Gordon ; but a fit of 

 abstraction seized me j my thoughts were wandering ; pray 

 forgive me." 



" A 2)rett.v confession, Mr. William, in the presence of three 



