THE LADIES' FLORAL CABINET. 
of them—that he had known Teddy and that Teddy s 
mother had been kind to him—he would have looked 
upon them as nothing more than excuses. Oh, what a 
fool she had been! 
But she had not betrayed any weakness either. She, 
too, had behaved with perfect calmness; and he could 
not have seen in his indifference how eagerly she was 
watching for any sign of tenderness, or even of remem¬ 
brance, which would have justified her in explaining her 
motives for going to him. She would take care that he 
should know. He should not think that— 
But was she actuated by no other motive than the de¬ 
sire to obtain the best available counsel when she took 
Mrs. O’Bryan to Maurice’s chambers? Was it only im¬ 
patience to learn what fate was in store for her foster- 
brother which took her up to his room when, by waiting 
a few minutes longer in the carnage, she could have 
heard all without undergoing the ordeal of the inter¬ 
view ? 
She met the questions bravely, and miserable, mean as 
the answers made her feel, she did not evade them. 
Yes, although she had tried to conceal it from herself, 
she was obliged to own that the longing to have direct 
news of himself—how he looked—wnat his place was 
like—had influenced her ; and then, being at his door, 
as it were, the longing overcame pride and prudence and 
she had gone to him. There had been, too, the vague 
hope that he would break down the bar which separated 
them, and that she would have the opportunity to speak 
freely to him once again. 
She was glad she had done it, for it satisfied her that 
he was well and quite settled in Iris resolution to think 
no more about her; quite contented to forget her. 
And yet it was a pity to have gone; for the visit had 
destroyed some visions, which although vain had yet 
their value in occasional gleams of comfort. She would 
not have gone ; she would not have remembered that he 
had anything to do with the law if it had not been for 
what Teddy had told her on the evening he (luckily for 
himself, as it now turned out) came to the house in 
Kensington. Maurice had written to her : Teddy had 
got the letter and burned it without knowing what was 
in it; then he pretended that Maurice had sent for Iris 
tilings and so sent them off to Calthorpe. 
Had she misjudged any one else as she had misjudged 
Maurice, she would have at once offered an apologv. 
Why was it she hesitated to make one to him ? She did 
wish him to know that she was now aware of the wrong 
she had done him, and that she was sorry for it. She 
did wish him to know that she was convinced of his 
fidelity before the fact was revealed to her: and still she 
shrank from it. 
She would hesitate no longer. She would tell him 
how cruelly they had both been made to suffer by 
Teddy’s folly, and she would ask him to forgive her . . . 
would that be right? Would it not disturb him again 
for no good purpose, except to relieve her mind of a 
burden of remorse, since they could never resume their 
former relationship so long as their positions remained 
as they were at present? . . . And yet that could have 
made no difference if he had cared for her as he had de¬ 
clared he did. He had said that he lived for her. Aye, 
but it was at that moment she had turned upon him’ 
telling him that he was false and base. 
It was horrible. But why did he net tell her about 
that letter? Had he done so, she believed that in her 
wildest passion she would have been ready to forget 
everything in the joy that knowledge would have 
brought her. Now it only brought new pain and bitter 
regret that would never leave her. Would she have 
changed so quickly in that time of madness ? Perhaps 
not; perhaps he saw that she would not, and so re¬ 
mained silent, thinking it useless to speak. 
She would tell him at once, and he could speak now if 
he chose to do so. But he would not do so; he was too 
indifferent; he had shown that in his letter—written 
after he had had time for reflection ; and he had shown 
it in his conduct during that brief interview. She 
would write, and her letter should be like his own—cold 
and decisive. 
“ My visit to you to-day may be misunderstood • I 
therefore wish to say that, when taking Mrs. O’Bryan 
to your place, I had no intention of intruding upon you 
But while waiting it occurred to me, as I told you, that 
by going up-stairs I might satisfy my impatience to hear 
what you might have to say about liei son, and per¬ 
haps, at the same time, find an opportunity of telling 
you that I regret having been the cause of any pain to 
you. I did not find that opportunity, and am obliged 
to take this means of informing you. I further wish to 
say that I did not know until two nights ago that you 
had written a letter to Lucy Smith after you left Cam¬ 
berwell. That letter was destroyed unopened, and 
nothing was said to her about it until the time liien- 
There: that would do. It was cold enough, at any 
rate. It showed him that she was aware ot her mistake, 
.and was sorry for it; but there was no weakness about 
it—no begging for pity. He would see that she too was 
resolute, and that since she knew him to be indifferent, 
she was satisfied. 
There was the end of it all: and it was not so difficult 
to write to him as she had feared it would be. But it 
would have been much better if she had not seen him 
—much better if Teddy had kept the secret of his 
treachery, since his confession had only reopened the 
wounds which now could never be healed. And yet she 
was glad to be assured that Maurice had been true ; glad 
of it even when she felt most keenly that he did not 
care for her. . . . Did she really believe that he did not 
care for her? If so, there was no need to be anxious to 
inform him of her discovery, for it was of no conse¬ 
quence whether he knew it or not. 
Let him think what he liked—comfort himself if he 
could, by thinking that she was heartless as she had 
thought him. She had found no comfort in that way, 
but then she loved him. . . . Let this letter, like his to 
Lucy, disappear also, its contents unknown to any one 
save the writer. Cold as it was, perhaps his own had 
been still colder—probably it had contained only a con¬ 
ventional intimation that the room above the tailor's shop 
need no longer be reserved for him; and not, as she 
wished to believe, the glad tidings of his speedy return. 
She fit a taper, and holding over the flame the note 
she had written, smiled sadly as she watched it change 
into black films . 
She would not allow herself to worry; she would fill 
up every moment of her waking time with some occu¬ 
pation of amusement or duty. Should her father con¬ 
tinue to wish to see her “ settled in life,” as he called it, 
she supposed that Sir Frederick Powell would make her 
as happy as she could hope to be. It was possible that 
there might be very pleasant times at Woodstow, and 
maybe her loss would make her the more staid and use¬ 
ful housewife. 
CHAPTER XIX—THE SORROWS OP A POOR OLD MAN. 
Mr. Calthorpe really could not stand it any longer. 
He had used all Iris diplomatic arts to bring about a 
natural reconciliation ; circumstances had seconded his 
efforts m a remarkable manner ; as for patience he had, 
in lus own opinion, earned in this respect a much higher 
reputation than Job, and what was the result? Abso¬ 
lute failure. Contrary to all human experience and 
calculation of the clue course of even ts, the result was 
absolute failure. Why was this ? Simply and entirely 
on account of the stubborn, unreasoning, unparden- 
a. Die— 
Oh! he could find no adjectivestrong enough to char¬ 
acterize the idiocy of lus sen. The prise was still within 
Mauuces reach, and be would not seize it. A few 
months, perhaps a few weeks, and the last chance would 
l je ’ f . 01 , tl | e prospective marriage of Miss Cuthbert 
’ althou S h still talked about by 
the fi iencls of both parties as a secret, was talked about 
aS 4 n tIf Pfeoeat no distant date 
So fai Colonel Cuthbert had made no decisive an- 
ncuncement, and Mr .Calthorpe was convinced that lie 
of°her choice!* P ^ * Mau * ce should 3"* be the man 
“I shall not express an opinion one wav or another ” 
he said. “ I shall not even hint at a Zh lL 
Powell and am quite ready to trust mv 
him. The fact is?she does Lt wShto Sanyt all 
