WYLDER'S HAjYD.
401
and, I think, relieved from suspense, and the torments of
mystery. So will she. At all events, it is her right to
know all — and she shall.
"Your outcast and miserable Sister."
On Stanley's lips his serene, unpleasant smile was
gleaming, as he closed the note carelessly. He intended
to speak, but his voice caught. He cleared it, and sipped
a little claret.
"For a clever girl she certainly does write the most
wonderful rubbish. Such an effusion! And she sends it
tossing about, from hand to hand, among the servants.
I've anticipated her, however, Dorkie." And he took her
hand and kissed it. "She does not know I've told you all
myself."
Stanley went to the library, and Dorcas to the conser-
vatory, neither very happy, each haunted by an evil au-
gury, and a sense of coming danger. The deepening
shadow warned Dorcas that it was time to repair to the
Dutch room, where she found lights and tea prepared.
In a few minutes more the library door opened and
Stanley Lake peeped in.
"Radie not come yet?" said he, entering. "We cer-
tainly are much pleasanter in this room, Dorkie, more, in
proportion, than we two should have been in the drawing-
room."
He seated himself beside her, drawing his chair very
close to hers, and taking her hand in his. He was more
affectionate this evening than usual. What did it portend?
she thought. She had already begun to acquiesce in Ra-
chel's estimate of Stanley, and to fancy that whatever he
did it was with an unacknowledged purpose.
"Does little Dorkie love me?" said Lake, in a sweet
undertone.