In this letter, which is addressed to my ill-fated mother, he speaks of his friendship for Sir Rowland, whom it seems he had known abroad; but entreats her to keep the marriage secret for a time, for reasons which are not fully developed. "To-night, your ladyship?" ventured an elderly domestic. I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. “Don’t you think I ought to?” she asked, very submissively. Never! Perhaps some day, quite soon, she might regret that breakfast-room. Sebastian looked up and stood. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. The sunshine was brilliant, the air mild.
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