"In what way?" inquired Ellen.
"Don't you know that they are engaged? He is to marry Miss Dallory. We had all kinds of love passages, I assure you, when he was ill at my uncle's, and she was there helping me to nurse him."
It was a wicked and gratuitous lie: there had been no "love passages" or any semblance of them. But Ellen believed it.
"Do you say they are engaged?" she murmured.
"Of course they are. It will be a love match too, for he is very fond of her--and she of him. I think Richard was once a little bit touched in that quarter; but Arthur has won. Sir Nash is very pleased at Arthur's choice; and mamma is delighted. They are both very fond of Mary Dallory."
And that ceremony, all but completed, only a few weeks ago in the church at Eastsea!--and the ring and licence she held still!--and the deep, deep love they had owned to each other, and vowed to keep for ever--what did it all mean? Ellen Adair asked the question of herself in her agony. And as her heart returned the common-sense answer--fickleness: faithlessness--she felt as if a great sea were sweeping away hope and peace and happiness. The iron had entered into her soul.
[CHAPTER XXII.]
TANGLED THREADS
It was a curious position, that of some of the present inmates of Dallory Hall. Sir Nash Bohun, who went down to accompany Arthur more than anything else, and who had not intended to remain above a day or two, stayed on. The quiet life after the bustle of London was grateful to him; the sweet country air really seemed to possess some of the properties madam had ascribed to it. Sir Nash was to go abroad when the genial springtime should set in, and try the effect of some medicinal waters. Until then, he was grateful for any change, any society that served to pass away the time.
Sir Nash had been as much struck with the wonderful beauty of Ellen Adair as strangers generally were. That she was one of those unusually sweet girls, made specially to be loved, he could not fail to see. In the moment of their first arrival, he had not noticed her: there were so many besides her to be greeted; and the appearance of Miss Dallory amongst them was a most unexpected surprise. Not until they were assembling for dinner, did Sir Nash observe her. His eyes suddenly rested on a most beautiful girl in a simple black silk evening dress, its low body and sleeves edged with white tulle, and a black necklace on her pretty neck. He was wondering who she could be, when he heard Richard North speak of her as Ellen Adair. Sir Nash drew Arthur Bohun to the far end of the drawing-room, ostensibly to look at a rare Turner hanging on the walls.