tenaye, was obvious from her haggard appearance; and her hand was so unsteady, that it was with difficulty she raised her cup to her lips. There was something, too, in Lord Norbourne's face that expressed anxiety; though his set brow and contracted lip, marked determination. Scarcely did his quiet and restrained manner give outward sign of what was working within. He would have conversed as usual; but his attempts were so ill seconded, that he was fain to take refuge in the letters that lay beside him. Courtenaye himself was lost in thought. What could be the meaning of his mother's restraint and suffering—her reluctance to see himself? What could be the cause of estrangement between a parent and child, hitherto so united? One only cause presented itself. Could there be a second marriage in the case? But the thought was rejected even as it rose; it was like sacrilege: so haughty, so old, so devoted to himself—it was impossible.
But Norbourne's was no temper to remain patient amid so much doubt and annoyance.
