unlike his infirm self, she could keep her head and her temper. His infirmity found a trap laid for it before they had proceeded twenty yards, as was proved by his sudden exclamation of horror. "Good heavens—if there isn't Lottie!"
Mary perceived, in effect, in the distance a female figure coming towards them over a stretch of lawn, and she simultaneously saw, as a gentleman passed from behind a clump of shrubbery, that it was not unattended. She recognized Charlotte Firminger, and she also distinguished the gentleman. She was moved to larger mirth at the dismay expressed by poor Firminger, but she was able to articulate: "Walking with Mr. Brown!"
Lord Beaupré stopped again before they were joined by the pair. "Does he buzz about you?"
"Mercy, what questions you ask!" his companion exclaimed.
"Does he—please?" the young man repeated, with odd intensity.
Mary looked at him an instant; she was puzzled by the deep annoyance that had
