Two mornings after the receipt of that letter, as the family, which the addition of St. Eval, were sitting together after breakfast, ere they separated to the various avocations of the day, Lord Henry D’Este bustled in with a countenance expressive of something extraordinary.

“Have you heard the news?” was his first eager exclamation.

“If we had, it would be no news,” replied Emmeline, archly; “but we have heard nothing.  Papa has something else to do than to seek out news for me, ditto the Right Honourable Lord St. Eval.  Percy has been suddenly converted into the spirit of gloom, and to Herbert it is in vain to look for gossip, so, for pity’s sake, satisfy my curiosity.”

“Perhaps you will say I have been exciting it unnecessarily,” he answered.  “An elopement is too common a thing now to cause much astonishment.”

“It depends on the parties,” observed Mr. Hamilton.  “Who are they?”

“Those, or rather one of them, I fear, for her father’s sake, in whom you will be too deeply interested,—­Lord Alphingham and Miss Grahame.”

“Annie!” burst from Caroline’s lips, in an accent of distress that struck all, and fell somewhat, painfully on Lord St. Eval’s ear, when starting from the seat she had occupied near him, she sprung forward, and wildly continued, “when—­when?  Lord Henry, for pity’s sake, tell me! is there no time?  Can they not be overtaken?  When did they go?”

Bewildered at the wild earnestness of her manner, at the muttered execration of Percy, Lord Henry was for a moment silent; but, on the repeated entreaty of Mr. and Mrs. Hamilton, he said that the particulars were not yet all known, except that she had been staying with her friend, that same lady of rank in whose family Miss Malison had been installed; that from her house the elopement had taken place, when, he did not exactly know, the report had only that morning gained credit.  Lady Helen was not in the least aware of what had passed, nor would she, in all probability, till Annie’s own letter announced it, as she turned a careless ear to all that her friends had hinted.  He greatly feared, however, that it was useless to think of overtaking them; they had been seen and recognised, on the road between York and Berwick, by a friend of his, three days previous.  He had at first regarded his friend’s letter as a mere jest, but finding he had written the same to many others, and that the report was gaining ground, he felt sufficient interest in Mr. Grahame to discover the truth, that he might be informed of it, and take measures accordingly, and as Grahame was from home, he thought the best thing he could do was to tell the whole story to Mr. Hamilton.

“And is there indeed no hope?  Can they not be overtaken?” again demanded Caroline, almost choked with an agitation for which even her parents could not account.