I followed them to the door, placed them in the carriage, and was turning again towards the house, when Lady Callonby said—­

“Oh, Mr. Lorrequer, we count upon you—­you must not desert us.”

I muttered something about not feeling well.

“And then, perhaps, the Greek loan is engaging your attention,” said Catherine; “or, mayhap, some reciprocity treaty is not prospering.”

The malice of this last sally told, for Jane blushed deeply, and I felt overwhelmed with confusion.

“But pray come—­the drive will do you good.”

“Your ladyship will, I am certain, excuse”—­

Just as I had got so far, I caught Lady Jane’s eye, for the first time since we had left the drawing-room.  What I read there, I could not, for the life of me, say; but, instead of finishing my sentence, I got into the carriage, and drove off, very much to the surprise of Lady Callonby, who, never having studied magnetism, knew very little the cause of my sudden recovery.

The thrill of hope that shot through my heart succeeding so rapidly the dark gloom of my despairing thoughts, buoyed me up, and while I whispered to myself, “all may not yet be lost,” I summoned my best energies to my aid.  Luckily for me, I was better qualified to act as cicerone in a gallery than as a guide in a green-house; and with the confidence that knowledge of a subject ever inspires, I rattled away about art and artists, greatly to the edification of Lady Callonby—­much to the surprise of Lady Catherine—­and, better than all, evidently to the satisfaction of her, to win whose praise I would gladly have risked my life.

“There,” said I, as I placed my fair friend before a delicious little madonna of Carl Dolci—­“there is, perhaps, the triumph of colouring—­for the downy softness of that cheek—­the luscious depth of that blue eye —­the waving richness of those sunny locks, all is perfect—­fortunately so beautiful a head is not a monopoly, for he painted many copies of this picture.”

“Quite true,” said a voice behind, “and mine at Elton is, I think, if anything, better than this.”

I turned, and beheld my good old uncle, Sir Guy, who was standing beside Lady Callonby.  While I welcomed my worthy relative, I could not help casting a glance around to see if Guy were also there, and not perceiving him, my heart beat freely again.

My uncle, it appeared, had just arrived, and lost no time in joining us at the gallery.  His manner to me was cordial to a degree; and I perceived that, immediately upon being introduced to Lady Jane, he took considerable pains to observe her, and paid her the most marked attention.

The first moment I could steal unnoticed, I took the opportunity of asking if Guy were come.  That one fact were to me all, and upon the answer to my question, I hung with deep anxiety.

“Guy here!—­no, not yet.  The fact is, Harry, my boy, Guy has not got on here as well as I could have wished.  Everything had been arranged among us—­Callonby behaved most handsomely—­and, as far as regarded myself, I threw no impediment in the way.  But still, I don’t know how it was, but Guy did not advance, and the matter now”—­