The interviews Lord Alphingham contrived to have with Miss Grahame, before he retired to Scotland, which he did not do for a fortnight after his rejection, strengthened the intentions of both.  The Viscount found new charms in the reserve and agitation which now marked Annie’s behaviour, in the faint voice and well-concealed intelligence, that however she might sympathise in his vexation, for herself she could not regret his freedom.  All this, though they were scarcely ever alone, formed a perfect understanding between them, and quickly banished the image of Caroline from the vain and fickle-minded Alphingham.

Wishing to keep up her pretended friendship for Caroline, that she might the more effectually wound her, and not believing the sentiments of the misguided girl were changed towards her also, Annie called at Berkeley Square a very few days after Caroline’s return, and she had become acquainted with all that had passed.  No one was visible in the drawing-room; the young men, she knew, had both arrived from college, but the house was destitute of that air of cheerfulness and glee which generally attended their return.  Some little time she waited with impatient displeasure, which did not lessen when, on hearing the door open, she beheld, not Caroline but Mrs. Hamilton herself, her cheek pale, as if from some internal suffering, but with even more than her wonted dignity both in mien and step, and for a moment Annie struggled in vain to speak with the eagerness with which she intended to have inquired for Caroline; before the mild yet penetrating glance of Mrs. Hamilton even her self-possession appeared about to abandon her.  She felt lowered, humbled in her presence, and it was this, perhaps, this very sense of inferiority, which had ever heightened dislike.

Mildly, yet coldly and briefly, Mrs. Hamilton answered Miss Grahame’s torrent of questions and regrets which followed her information, that Caroline was not well enough to see any one but her own family, and that, as they left London some little time sooner than they had originally intended, she had begged her mother to tender her farewell.  Annie expressed excessive sorrow, but no effort on either side was made to prolong this interview, and it was very quickly over.  Annie returned home dissatisfied and angry, determining to make one attempt more; and if that failed, she thought she could as successfully wound by inuendoes and ridicule, should mere acquaintance take the place of intimate friendship.

Miss Grahame accordingly wrote in a truly heroic and highly-phrased style, regretting, sympathising, and encouraging; but the answer, though guardedly worded, told her too plainly all her influence was over.