Lord Oakhampton remarked to himself that neither by word, act, nor hint, did Derval ever refer to his late father's dreaded claim to the coronet. This pleased with him with his young friend, yet it was not without annoyance and alarm that he discovered and viewed the growing intimacy between him and his daughter, and painfully, indeed, did the latter blush when he began to remonstrate with her upon the subject; and her pain was all the deeper by a knowledge that she had brought it upon herself.
Seated together with her father in an oriel window overlooking the bay, her mind, as evening darkened and the moonlight came upon the water, was full of what had passed between herself and Derval but a very short time before, and after a silence of some minutes she said, with the irrepressible desire to talk of what was nearest her heart and uppermost in her thoughts,—
"Have you ever remarked, Papa, what a handsome young man Mr. Hampton is?"
Lord Oakhampton started quickly, and looked at her, but Clara's face was hidden in shadow.
"Of course I have observed it," he replied; "he is not only handsome, but distinguished-looking, for a man of his class. He comes of a good family."
"Yes—is he not some relation of our own, Papa?"
"Has he ever said so—does he talk of such a matter?" asked Lord Oakhampton, in a changed tone.
"Oh, no, Papa, but he strikes me as so unlike the men I usually meet."
Lord Oakhampton was silent for a minute; then he said, with some asperity of manner,—
"Since when has this extreme intimacy with Mr. Hampton been in progress?"