"Reginald Reinecourt Stanford is my name; and the reason I only gave you a third of it was, as I said before, because I liked you so much. You know, my dear little Rose, if I had told you that day on the ice my name was Reginald Stanford, you would have gone straight to the Hall, told the news, and had me brought here at once. By that proceeding I should have seen very little of you, of course. Don't you see?"

"Ye-e-e-s," very falteringly.

"I looked up that day from the ice," continued Stanford, "and saw such a dear little curly-headed, bright-eyed, rose-cheeked fairy, that--no, I can't tell you how I felt at the sight. I gave you my middle name, and you acted the Good Samaritan to the wounded stranger--came to see me every day, and made that sprained ankle the greatest boon of my life!"

"Mr. Stanford--"

"Call me Reginald."

"I cannot. Let me go! What would Kate say?"

"She will like it. She doesn't understand why you dislike me so much."

He laughed as he said it. The laugh implied so much, that Rose started up, colouring vividly.

"This is wrong! I must go. Don't hold me, Mr. Stanford."

"Reginald, if you please!"

"I have no right to say Reginald."

"Yes, you have a sister's right!"

"Let me go!" said Rose, imperiously. "I ought not to be here."

"I don't see why. It is very pleasant to have you here. You haven't told me yet that you forgive me."

"Of course I forgive you. It's of no consequence. Will you let me go, Mr. Stanford?"

"Don't be in such a hurry. I told you I had fifty things to--"

He stopped short. The drawing-room door had opened, and Captain Danton's voice could be heard talking to his two companions at billiards.

"All deserted," said the Captain; "I thought we should find the girls here. Come in. I dare-say somebody will be along presently."

"Oh, let me go!" cried Rose, in dire alarm. "Papa may come in here. Oh, pray--pray let me go!"

"If I do, will you promise to be good friends with me in the future?"

"Yes, yes! Let me go!"

"And you forget and forgive the past?"

"Yes--yes--yes! Anything, anything."

Stanford, who had no more desire than Rose herself to be caught just then by papa-in-law, released his captive, and Rose flew out into the hall and upstairs faster than she had ever done before.

How the four gentlemen got on alone in the drawing-room she never knew.

She kept her room all day, and took uncommon pains with her dinner-toilet. She wore the blue glace, in which she looked so charming, and twisted some jeweled stars in her bright auburn hair. She looked at herself in the gla.s.s, her eyes dancing, her cheeks flushed, her rosy lips apart.

"I am pretty," thought Rose. "I like my own looks better than I do Kate's, and every one calls her beautiful. I suppose her eyes are larger, and her nose more perfect, and her forehead higher; but it is too pale and cold. Oh, if Reginald would only love me better than Kate!"

She ran down-stairs as the last bell rang, eager and expectant, but only to be disappointed. Grace was there; Eeny and Kate were there, and Sir Ronald Keith; but where were the rest?

"Where's papa?" said Rose, taking her seat.

"Dining out," replied Kate, who looked pale and ill. "And Reginald and Doctor Danton are with him. It is at Mr. Howard's. They drove off over an hour ago."

Rose's eyes fell and her colour faded. Until the meal was over, she hardly opened her lips; and when it was concluded, she went back immediately to her room. Where was the use of waiting when he would not be there?

CHAPTER X.

THE REVELATION.

Next morning, at breakfast, Captain Danton was back; but Reginald's handsome face, and easy flow of conversation, were missing. George Howard, it appeared, was going on a skating excursion some miles off, that day, and had prevailed on Mr. Stanford to remain and accompany him.

Rose felt about as desolate as if she had been shipwrecked on a desert island. There was a pang of jealousy mingled with the desolation, too.

Emily Howard was a sparkling brunette, a coquette, an heiress, and a belle. Was it the skating excursion or Emily's big black eyes that had tempted him to linger? Perhaps Emily would go with them skating, and Rose knew how charming piquant little Miss Howard was on skates.

It was a miserable morning altogether, and Rose tormented herself in true orthodox lover-like style. She roamed about the house aimlessly, pulling out her watch perpetually to look at the hour, and sighing drearily. She wondered at Kate, who sat so placidly playing some song without words, with the Scotch baronet standing by the piano, absorbed.

"What does she know of love?" thought Rose, contemptuously. "She is as cold as a polar iceberg. She ought to marry that knight of the woeful countenance beside her, and be my lady, and live in a castle, and eat and sleep in velvet and rubies. It would just suit her."

Doctor Danton came up in the course of the forenoon, to make a professional call. His patient was better, calmer, less nervous, and able to sit up in a rocking-chair, wrapped in a great shawl. Grace persuaded him to stay to luncheon, and he did, and tried to win Miss Rose out of the dismals, and got incontinently snubbed for his pains.

But there was balm in Gilead for Rose. Just after luncheon a little sh.e.l.l-like sleigh, with prancing ponies and jingling bells, whirled musically up to the door. A pretty, blooming, black-eyed girl was its sole occupant; and Rose, at the drawing-room window, ran out to meet her.

"My darling Emily!" cried Rose, kissing the young lady she had been wishing at Jericho all day, "how glad I am to see you! Come in! You will stay to dinner, won't you?"

"No, dear," said Miss Howard, "I can't. I just came over for you; I am alone, and want you to spend the evening. Don't say no; Mr. Stanford will be home to dinner with George, and he will escort you back."

"You pet!" cried Rose, with another rapturous kiss. "Just wait five minutes while I run up and dress."

Miss Howard was not very long detained. Rose was back, all ready, in half an hour.

"Would your sister come?" inquired Miss Howard, doubtfully, for she was a good deal in awe of that tall majestic sister.

"Who? Kate? Oh, she is out riding with Sir Ronald Keith. Never mind her; we can have a better time by ourselves."

The tiny sleigh dashed off with its fair occupants, and Rose's depressed spirits went up to fever heat. It was the first of March, and March had come in like a lamb--balmy, sunshiny, brilliant. Everybody looked at them admiringly as the fairy sleigh and the two pretty girls flew through the village, and thought, perhaps, what a fine thing it was to be rich, and young, and handsome, and happy, like that.

Miss Howard's home was about half a mile off, and a few minutes brought them to it.

The two girls pa.s.sed the afternoon agreeably enough at the piano and over new books, but both were longing for evening and the return of the gentlemen. Miss Howard was only sixteen, and couldn't help admiring Mr.

Stanford, or wishing she were her brother George, and with him all day.