“Narcissus, madam,” said Aurelia, put out of countenance by the banter.

“Oh, you are learned.  Is Mr. Belamour your tutor, pray?  And—­oh fie!  I have seen that ring before!”

“He gave it to me yesterday,” faltered Aurelia, “in case you should intend to take me away, and I should not see him again.  I hope I was not wrong in accepting it, madam.”

“Wrong, little fool, assuredly not,” said my Lady, laughing.  “It is an ensign of victory.  Why, child, you have made a conquest worthy of—­let me see.  You, or the wits, could tell me who it was that stormed the very den of Cocytus and bore off the spoil!”

Aurelia liked the tone too little to supply the names; yet she felt flattered; but she said quietly, “I am happy to have been the means of cheering him.”

The grave artlessness of the manner acted as a kind of check, and Lady Belamour said in a different tone, “Seriously, child, the family are truly obliged for your share in rousing the poor creature from his melancholy.  My good man made the attempt, but all in vain.  What do you to divert him?”

In inquires of this kind the supper hour passed, and Lady Belamour was then to keep her appointment with her brother-in-law.  She showed so much alarm and dread that Aurelia could not but utter assurances and encouragements, which again awoke that arch manner, partly bantering, partly flattering, which exercised a sort of pleasant perplexing fascination on the simple girl.

After being dismissed, Aurelia went in search of Mrs. Dove, whom she found with Molly, taking stock of Amoret’s little wardrobe.  The good woman rose joyfully.  “Oh, my dear missie!  I am right thankful to see you looking so purely.  I don’t know how I could have held up my head to Miss Delavie if I had not seen you!”

“Ah! you will see my sister and all of them,” cried Aurelia, a sudden rush of home-sickness bringing tears to her eyes, in oblivion alike of her recluse and her pupils.  “Oh! if I were but going with you!  But what folly am I talking?  You must not let them think I am not happy, for indeed I am.  Will you kindly come to my room, dear nurse, and I will give you a packet for them?”

Mrs. Dove willingly availed herself of the opportunity of explaining how guiltless she had been of the sudden separation at Knightsbridge four months back.  She had been in such haste to ride after and overtake the coach, that she had even made Dove swear at her for wanting to give the horses no time to rest, and she had ridden off on her own particular pillion long before the rest.  She had been surprised that she never succeeded in catching up the carriage, but never suspected the truth till she had dismounted in Hanover Square and asked whether “Miss” were with my Lady.  Nobody knew anything about Miss Delavie, nor expected her; and the good woman’s alarm was great until she had had an interview with her Ladyship, when she was told not to concern herself about the young lady, who was safely bestowed in the country with the Miss Wayland.  “But that it was here, if you’ll believe me, missie, I was as innocent as the babe unborn, and so was his Honour, Sir Amyas.  Indeed, my Lady gave him to understand that she had put you to boarding-school with his little sisters.”