There was an heiress at Steynham, on her way with her father to Italy, very anxious to see her old friend Nevil--Cecilia Halkett--and very inquisitive this young lady of sixteen was to know the cause of his absence.

She heard of it from Cecil.
'And one morning last week mademoiselle was running away with him, and the next morning she was married to her marquis!' Cecil was able to tell her that.
'I used to be so fond of him,' said the ingenuous young lady.

She had to thank Nevil for a Circassian dress and pearls, which he had sent to her by the hands of Mrs.Culling--a pretty present to a girl in the nursery, she thought, and in fact she chose to be a little wounded by the cause of his absence.
'He's a good creature-really,' Cecil spoke on his cousin's behalf.

'Mad; he always will be mad.

A dear old savage; always amuses me.