A glance from Mary told Helena that she had flirted enough for that day, and, not being at all dissatisfied with the day's adventure, she determined to obey the glance; accordingly, as they were leaving the chapel, she glided past Harry, and whispered, "Good-bye, cricket; I am going to talk to Mary."
Poor Cricket looked rather woeful at this intelligence; but there was no help for it, so, making a vain attempt to seize her little hand again, he let her glide away from him.
We left Mr. Earnscliffe looking round for Mary Elton, in order to obtain some information about "that Lyne affair;" and, a moment later, Mary heard a voice beside her saying—
"Well, Miss Elton, are you deeply interested in the Catacombs?"
As she listened to those words, she felt as if a sharp knife were cutting away the hope she had begun to cherish, that he was indifferent to Flora Adair; for she felt certain that it was from the desire to hear more of what she had said about Flora and Mr. Lyne that he came to her. There could be no doubt, she thought, that the Catacombs would otherwise have been far more attractive to him than a conversation with her; nevertheless an answer must be given, and she said, "Not particularly so. I have scarcely read or thought enough about the Catacombs to be greatly interested in them. Indeed, it was to please my sister that I came to-day."
"Your sister! does she then take greater interest in these things than you do? I should hardly have supposed it."
His tone, even more than his words, made her laugh,—the idea of Helena's being interested in the Catacombs for their own sake, was certainly very amusing; so she replied—
"Well, no; Lena is not particularly devoted to antiquarian researches, but she thought it would be a pleasant party, and begged me so earnestly to accompany her that I did not like to refuse."
"Ah! I understand."
A silence ensued, while Mary thought, "Poor man! he does not know how to get at the subject which he is so longing to talk about; he thinks it beneath him to let any one see that he could feel curiosity about a young lady's proceedings, and I have a great mind to make him pay for his dignity, and not help him over the dilemma. This I could do, but that it would defeat my own purpose of crushing any incipient fancy which he may have taken to Flora. Yet how mean it is! Were I but sure that she is really going to marry Mr. Lyne, I should not feel so false as I do now. But what is the use of all this self-reproach? If I am to do it at all there must be no looking back; yet would it not be better to give it up altogether, and let things take their natural course? Yes, it would indeed be truer, nobler, better to do so; but——"