joined the idea of having Helen by my side when I again visited these beautiful scenes.

"My last letter having failed to reach you, I owe you still thanks for the account you gave me of the occurrence at Cardington. I do feel very much obliged to you for it, and for other kindness in your letter. I have a purpose in connection with both which I trust shortly to speak more fully concerning. The same lost letter would have explained that circumstances forbade my writing to England for some weeks after its date. My courier was under ths strange impression that I was a Russian Prince travelling incognito-a mistake I could not afford to rectify until this day.

"Yours sincerely,

"ARDEN MAINWARING."

With this letter, and one which gave promise of being at least as long, I proceeded to Darliston, and saw Helen watching for me from one of the drawing-room windows. She sits there to be out of Grant's way; and has acquainted her grandfather that she thinks it desirable, without intimating she has received serious offence. The poor girl was much delighted with her letter; cried over and kissed it. It gave no information as to the cause of his journey, but said he had passed safely through many scrapes, and some dangers; and succeeded in the purpose of his mission.

I read part of the letter I had received and found it aroused afresh Helen's self-accusation. In seeking to appease the feeling, I reminded her that her momentary forgetfulness had been succeeded by a courageous declaration that her heart was given to Mr. Mainwaring; and I trusted this might have had more effect than anything in convincing Grant he strove in vain. Helen shook her head at this, and only answered, "We won't talk about him; I don't like to think about him;" so we reverted to the continent.

Helen told me Mr. Mainwaring had found a pair of bracelets, which he thought would correspond well with the necklace his mother had presented, and hoped soon to be able to forward them by a gentleman going to England. Lady Arabella was trying the waters of some celebrated spa. Lord Cardington and Lady Althea were with her.

Helen went on with her studies during the afternoon, and soon afterwards our pleasant friend Alice Ainslie appeared, and was made right welcome by all.

said she looked a prim little quakeress, but on her discovering us among the throng of strangers her pretty face dimpled into such open gladness, that it was quite gratifying to have occasioned such a brightening, albeit I did not take all the credit to myself. I suggested to the gentleman the propriety of his escorting my cousin over the bridge, and he expressed his approbation of the arrangement by a ready assent and by continuing his attendance as far as the gate of Darliston Manor.

I had much to tell and a good deal to hear, though during Barbara's attendance at table we carefully avoided some topics. Arden Mainwaring had written to his friend, and as it appeared to me, had hastened his coming to us. On his last visit to the neighbourhood, Mr. Brown had been staying at the house of a Mr. Dennison on the other side of Cardington Park. He had seen Alfred Merrivale several times and had made some endeavours to ascertain further concerning Mr. Witham.

Mrs. Wellwood had now other guests; two nephews of her late husband being with her. Miss Alice Ainslie had asked if he were going to the party there on Thursday; he had no doubt he should be invited, but should go over in the morning and make sure.

Helen attended afternoon service, Mrs. Cargill being with her, and on the return we joined company and had a very pleasant walk, conversing with little restraint about the letters received from Mr. Mainwaring. Merton told us he spoke of his recent travels as undertaken for the purpose of investigating some doubtful assertions. His travelling name had been Monsieur Deschênes, an appellation he had taken from his estate, "Forest Oaks," but he was supposed to be a Russian, and his knowledge of languages had given great facility in supporting the part required of him.

There is a placidity about old Mr. Wainwright which is very satisfactory, only that it is plain he leans upon Grant so much. It is remarkable how partial he is to Alice, and she reciprocates his fondness with a watchful attention to him, and a willingness to please and be pleased, that is truly beautiful to witness. She even found courage to sing some hymns before us all when he asked for them; and sung them in her selfforgetfulness with a fuller and more sustained voice than I thought she had possessed.

On Monday we had quite a musical evening. The old Squire seemed really to enjoy it and kept up an hour later than usual; when he retired charging us to continue, as he could not now sleep without music.

It was near ten' and rather dark when we left; the girls escorting us to the garden gate.

such in years to come, and you likewise. Good-night."

I said also," Good-night;" and we proceeded: but as if some thought struck him Mr. Brown begged me to wait for a moment, and quickly retraced his steps. He spoke some few words to Grant Wainwright, the last of which were alone audible to me; "You may tell him so from me."

We proceeded a little way in silence; then Mr. Brown said:

"I am truly sorry for that unlucky young fellow. There has he been, I have little doubt, standing outside in the darkness, listening to our music, and trying to distinguish Miss Dalziel's voice. Oh, this love! it does play all manner of mischief with men !"

Really, you seem to know something about it," I said,

He laughed light-heartedly enough. "You know what is said of lookers-on," was his reply. "And of course you always mean to be a looker-on?" I suggested.

"Well may-be not. I suppose it is possible I may some time be caught: but I hope to keep out of all sentimentalities for at least a dozen years. I sometimes feel as if I ought to be married before I am forty, and must allow some five years for the thing to come on."

"Mr. Merton Brown-what do you mean by 'keeping out of all sentimentalities? Did you not sing 'Juanita' to-night as if you had been fairly educated in them ?"

"O Psha! Mrs. Gainsborough! I'm fond of music, and when I sing I fancy I'm somebody else. That's the whole secret of it. Did I not sing Rage, thou angry storm,' just before? I fancied myself a desperate villain then, of course. We are all fond of acting."

"Well, I admit your argument, and pronounce you in your own person a barbarous contemner of my own beautiful sex. You don't think there's one among us worth the risk of wooing; men ought to be above the weakness of loving such poor silly, helpless, things! If you must have a companion best choose one in whose presence you can sit at ease with your feet on the table, if you fancy it, and when you are tired of him be free to walk off and choose another! He won't object to your smoking, or pester you with twaddle about curtains and flounces; he won't ask you to hush a child to sleep; he won't, he-"

I wrote a line of acquiescence in return, and anxious to avoid awakening suspicion, provided an excuse for Barbara's detention.

I packed a parcel of books and enjoined her to walk over to Darliston Hall with them and wait for a pattern of a sleeve. I wrote to each of the girls, requesting Alice to keep Barbara, and acquainting Helen with all that seemed necessary.

Between Barbara and Lance there has always existed more or less of warfare. Though not himself aggressive, he resists strongly the idea she persists in presenting that he is under her. I felt sure when I told him that I expected visitors whom I did not wish her to gossip about, he would feel bound to confidence and discretion.

So, having done all in my power to keep matters quiet, closed my curtains, and lit my lamp, I sat down and commenced a crochet antimacassar; which, beginning with a number of plain rows, was not likely to suffer from divided attention.

It was scarcely dark when a post-chaise drew up and my visitor alighted. I doubt however if Lance would have recognized him. When he first entered the room I was under the impression he had purposely disguised himself; but a light travelling-cloak removed and his hat lifted, there stood Helen's handsome husband.

"He won't scold me till he's out of breath, Mrs. Gainsborough."

"I do

he asked, as he took my offered hand. "All is tolerably well," I answered. not know that you had any right to come, and feel a little frightened about it: but I cannot, of course, send you back without seeing Helen. She will be here in a few minutes."

"Could I help but come," he said; "when I read your last letter? I went at once to Lord St. George, he had been giving me unusual credit for my services, and begged if they had

seemed worthy of consideration he would pardon my departure, but I must go. He was kind on the occasion, made me bearer of despatches home. Mrs. Gainsborough, all you have told me of the way that young relation of Mr. Wainwright's is wooing my wife, is ample excuse for my coming without leave granted. Can you assure me I am safe in neglecting to take all means available to strengthen my cause in her heart? Can you tell me there is no peril to her constancy? No; your letter avowed to me that her faith in me was assailed, that she was reminded I had mercenary interest in seeking her. This Grant Wainwright has the advantage of a friendship formed in childhood to back his protestations of affection and disinterestedness."

"Yes, and I believe in the fact of his disinterestedness. He besought her recently to break off her engagement with you and suffer you to retain her fortune, which somehow he has discovered is already in your hands."

"Aye, Mrs. Gainsborough; that matter, I know, tells cruelly against me, and again how unfortunate was the loss of that letter! How has she endured my apparent neglect? I thought her last letter unlikethose that had preceded it; there was something in its tone I could not understand; and it was very brief. Has her faith stood firm, or has she credited evil of me?" "Her heart has been more closely besieged than you can well conceive. I never could have believed that Grant Wainwright could suit himself so well to the character of a devoted lover; could so subdue his roughness and turn courtier."

"You have not told me how she has stood all this, I mean of late?"

|

she had passed the light on the table she sawshe knew him. A faint cry passed her lips, but she did not draw back her hand or shrink from him when he took her in his arms. She sobbed hysterically. He kissed her, soothed her with loving names, and then, when she was somewhat calmer, said: Let me see if you can look your husband in the face after four long months of absence?"

"Helen, look up.

She raised her head. I saw his face, not hers. Seriously, searchingly he looked upon her; but I judged by the returning glow on his cheek, by the smile and the kiss that followed, he was not ill-satisfied.

"I come to look after my interests, Helen," he said. "I have heard of one making fierce love to my little wife and that he is no mean rival. I have been told you may think me careless, indifferent; worse, may-be; and I come to deny it. To tell you with my own lips that you are the hope of my life, my only happiness. Helen, speak to me; are you glad I have

come ?"

He drew her to a seat on the sofa and placed himself beside her. Helen was striving for composure, and it was good to me to see the gentle grace with which he soothed her, knowing the deep feelings stirred within him and how precious he held the time to be. She found voice presently to say:

"You have come-for how long ?"

"Too short a while. I would not be denied but am fain to be restricted. O Helen, would that this cruel promise to your grandfather could be cancelled; that I could take you to myself and shield you from all assailants! Helen, have I much to forgive?"

"Do not fear that I can judge her harshly, I dare not. Have I afforded her the protection which she ought to have had ?”

A sound at the gate made me start up and turn towards the door.

"I pray, Mrs. Gainsborough," he said; "you will let no sign betray that I am here. I feel that I shall read in her face if I am welcome; if I have much to forgive."

It was an anxious moment to me when her step drew near. How could I be certain that the suddenness of the encounter might not bring up a semblance of fear? she might shrink from him as from an apparition. I told him so, but he only said "Hush, I entreat! she is coming."

She entered. Her light step crossed the room quickly, her hand was extended. When

"Mrs. Gainsborough knows all," she said. "She does not think you ought to blame memuch."

"Yet, tell it all to me, Helen; tell me fearlessly; for you and I may be the happier. It is right that I should know."

"He loves me," she said in low tones. "It has seemed wonderful to me that I could be so loved. Could I help but pity him, knowingknowing that to love so strongly without return and without hope is so sad a thing?"

She trembled with agitation, but she went on: "There was a moment when temptation came to think it was sweeter to be so loved than to love the absent and-indeed, I feared it was so, the unloving. But I cast the thought from me; I did not harbour it. It was wicked. I hated myself that I could have let it come."

Helen's colour went and came as she spoke, but her eyes were raised and pleaded with her tones for the merciful consideration of her confessor. Probably she read in his countenance much to encourage her to proceed. His arm caressed her and he held her hand pressed close to his heart.

"Helen," he said, when she ceased, "if temptation comes to us through neglect of proper defence it may perhaps be accounted as a sin : but temptation resisted is surely no hard thing for man to pardon. If it be, I too must make my confession. Temptation has been busy at my heart, and but for the thought that Helen loved me, I cannot feel sure my sense of right would have prevailed. Think then, was it not time for me to come when I felt that safeguard was perilled? When Helen might be wearying of an absent unhelpful man, who had done so little to requite her goodness, and when Helen felt pity for the present lover who would not be rejected ?"

Helen had a struggle with some rising tears, and then said:

"You have tried to keep me in mind. I know you wish to love me."

"It was a hard thought of yours, Helen, that I was unloving towards you. How shall I meet it? What have I now but professions to offer? I have striven, Helen, to be loyal to you in beart, and I have not striven in vain. Do you, can you, really think that I am unloving ?" "I thought, indeed, at the time, that you might be regretting you were so bound to me." "That I never did, Helen. I have never for one moment wished myself free from the vows I pledged to you, never ceased to look upon you as a good gift from Heaven. Even while present temptation beguiled me towards a path deviating from the strict line of my duty towards you, I ever, when my thoughts returned to you, held you as my good angel, my best, my only hope of happiness. Helen have you not something more to say that should be said? Something more like an accusation? Else why should you doubt my love?"

"Had you not cared for me you 'would not have come now. I have no accusation to make." "There is a name scarcely mentioned between us even in our letters-Lady Althea."

Helen a little started, and coloured not a little.

"Let us speak of her now. Have you not something to question me about-about a letter? Nay then, I must question you. When Lady Althea offered to show you some verses of mine and, somehow, gave you instead a letter; what was it about ?”`

Helen was not ready to speak.
"Helen, I must know."
"Unchanging-everlasting love."
He coloured too now, but proceeded.
"Helen, you love me?"

"Yes, I love you."

"Can you give me any reason for it, my Helen ?"

Only that

you are-what you are." "Then, Helen; if I were to prove something altogether different to what I am-to the image of me your heart has received; something very contrary; would you could you, though you loved me no longer, think you had been very blameworthy for loving me before? Or, could you blame yourself that the love you once felt

must be unchangeable-everlasting; having been so mistaken in its object, who had proved otherwise?"

"I never blamed you for it. I only wondered, and it made me sad; sad for you and for myself; since I feared you would fail to find in me what so-so charmed you in her."

"You trusted me in the face of much that must have shadowed my fame. Oh Helen, there was an infinite charm to me in that trustfulness! When all frowned on me your love smiled; could I resist that charm? What was to check the impulse of my heart? Had you been coarse-minded, sour-tempered, or even illfavoured, I might have felt merely grateful; but you satisfy my taste, my heart, my reason. My own Helen, trust me, love me, still. I read the spirit of truth and earnestness in your eyes; it tells me you can not only dare but endure for one whom you love. Is it not so?"

Helen's eyelids drooped and when they rose again, disclosed some tears.

"I meant to be true and strong in my trust," she said, "I thought I could have endured for any time. Yet I gave way to the thought that you were careless whether I loved you or not; and then, when he-when Grant was flattering my vanity with being good for my sake, and-and so on, it seemed so cruel. But I loved you in my heart all the time, and I knew that the moment that he dared-" her voice sunk.

"Dared what?"

It was a painful effort to her, but she spoke it. It made the gentleman stamp his foot and for the moment release her hand. "He dared-0 Helen!" he said.

Her colour rose and paled, but she looked appealingly in his face. "You forgave me the foolish-the wicked moment which made me speak a word of pity to him. Indeed that was all my fault. He never had so presumed before; and I was seeking to leave him when—”

I saw she was forgiven. A smile hovered about his face, and he said:

"That Grant Wainwright is detestable, and you were a very bad manager to let him fall into the mistake of supposing such presumption could be tolerated. But considering he was so misled, that he did not know you were a wife, and supposing you looked as you do this minute, it was not altogether inexcusable on his part. Helen, I consider you accountable for it all and will reckon with you at once. Since you had no right to have the kiss, you ought not to keep it; so give it to your husband directly, young lady." "And you will forgive me--quite ?” "Yes, afterwards."

She timidly kissed his hand.

My hand? O Helen! That was not the sort of kiss, or I have nothing to forgive. Do you think to cheat your conscience and your busband in this mean way? I am sure Mrs. Gainsborough would never serve the Captain so?"

Mrs. Gainsborough interposed here with "I only wish he were here; would I!”

Helen, you will not have me here long." She glanced from one to the other as we spoke; then, looking like a frightened child, gave hastily the required kiss, and essayed to spring away to me. It was not permitted. He was not disposed to let her leave his side, and she had to abide by his arrangement.

I confess it gave me much contentment to see him look so entirely happy, to see that for the moment he had forgotten my existence, and was caressing her braided head with most lover-like fondness as it nestled in his bosom. He saw me smile, however, and recovered consciousness, but his hand did not cease from playing over Helen's brown locks, and, smiling, he asked, "Do we look Romeo-and-Julietish enough to satisfy you, Mrs. Gainsborough?"

66

I begin to entertain hopes of you." "Do you? Then pray lend me your scissors and tell me where I may with least peril of my lady's displeasure, sever a little of this soft brown hair."

Helen submitted with a good grace; loosed one of her tresses and let him take a silky curl. I tied it round, and he placed it for security in his purse, wrapped in a bank-note.

"The piece you sent me was given up to the jeweller for my ring; see there is all that can now meet my eye. In so diminutive an arrange ment there is nothing to recal the glory of my Helen's dark locks. You remember how they fell over you,' love, when the crown I had obtained was placed upon your head? I think in return for my feat some little arrow must have reached my heart. I certainly thought you looked very bewitching, and felt much more gratulation in my success than I had at all anticipated."

"You thought it was pleasant to please a simple country girl who never had had such honour done her before; that was it."

"That was not all. Something in your bear. ing struck me, and I should have remembered you if I never had seen you again. You were free from pretension, yet your spirit did not bend to anything but kindness. I felt there was a strength in you, a spirit, that would not take the world's gauge of what most merits honour, but held a better standard of its own. I think so now, Helen. Since your dear hand redeemed me from my fetters I have had fair success in my course, and I trust good fortune may continue; but if it were otherwise, if the world held me-and it may some day-that much despised thing an unsuccessful man, Helen, I think, would maintain that while I strove with earnest purpose, and strove fairly, it were ill done to condemn me. It seems to me I could not be very unhappy, let the world frown as it would, did Helen's eyes look upon me-as they do now. Helen, my home is with you, in your heart. Keep it sacred for me, love."

Time was advancing, and I began to tell of the present state of affairs at Darliston; and as my hearer was most desirous of information concerning Grant Wainwright, I mentioned that Helen had improved the occasion of her disturb

er's audacious kiss by telling him a certain Mr. Mainwaring had her heart in possession. "Surely it must have convinced him that his suit was vain?" said Arden.

"He has ceased since to come so much to the Hall," Helen answered, "nor has he troubled me with messages; but Nanny tells me he speaks with confidence still. If you had heard him, as I did, that evening, swear our engagement should never be fulfilled-little guessing that in that very room our hands had been joined-you would think as I do, that nothing short of the knowledge of our actual marriage would turn aside his resolution."

Mr. Mainwaring was thoughtful for some moments; he then said:

"I shall think myself a very poor diplomatist if I do not free you from this persecution before I return to Vienna. Do I understand you rightly that Mr. Wainwright's state of health is such that no appeal can be made to him without danger?"

"I fear so. Dr. Meredith says any nervous excitement may bring on an attack of his disorder."

"Then, as he cannot protect you, I must-I may.' "What can you do?"

Nothing that is unkind towards your grandfather, nothing against the tenor of my pledged word to him. Yet as your affianced lover and your favoured lover, I have a right to come forward and call upon Mr. Grant Wainwright to withdraw his pretensions."

"But you must not meet him. Oh, I would not have him know you were here now for all the world! He would be ready to kill you."

Mr. Mainwaring looked at her with an amused expression of countenance, and said, "Do you really wish me to be afraid of him, Helen ?"

"I can keep upstairs except at mealtime, and if we meet then there will always be others present; and Mrs. Gainsborough

"Helen-is your husband unfit to stand forward and protect you? Bless your true little woman's heart, is all the courage to be on your side ? You had the hardihood to boast before this fierce cousin of yours that you loved a man whom you do not think equal to a contest with him !"

"No, I do not say you are not. Though. for that matter, if you were as weak in physical strength as myself, I might have boasted still. But why should you interfere with a wild animal-a mad dog?”

"My dear Helen, there might be reasons: for instance, if the mad dog tried to bite my wife. Be assured I have no wish to fight anybody; though if the necessity existed, could you not admit the possibility of my doing as well as my friend Merton Brown? Your imputation tempts me to drive from here to the Rood Farm that I may beard the lion in his den. My father's son must be degenerate indeed if an hour like this could not nerve him with boldness to encounter his rival, Know, darling, that my