It is much better than that cast-iron oven.'

Elizabeth's face flamed crimson for a moment as she spoke, the old transient flush like the reflection of evening sunlight. Miss Disney marked the vivid colour, and wondered what there could be in a strange church to call for blushes.

You had a good sermon, I hope, as a reward for your six miles' drive ?'

'Yes,' answered Elizabeth curtly.

She went into the house, passing her husband without so much as a look.

He had Hilda-Hilda's counsel; Hilda trained in that sordid school at Ashcombe; Hilda, whose genius was to suggest the saving of money. Her bosom swelled with anger and contempt―anger against both, contempt for both.

6

Why did he not marry his cousin, and leave me to my lonely life, leave me to be true to the memory of Malcolm Forde ?'

She went up to her own room, the room with the stone balcony looking over the water, the soft blue-gray wavelets which flowed beneath the hills that hid Dunallen. How strange, how sweet, how sad to know he was so near her-he from whom she was parted for ever!

'If I had been constant to him, if I had been content to live my blank miserable life in that wretched little house at Hawleigh, to be dragooned by Gertrude, to creep on my dull way like a snail that has never been outside the walls of some dismal old kitchengarden,—if I had spent all these years in thinking about him and grieving for my loss of his love, would Heaven have rewarded my patience, and brought him back to me at last? Could I by only a little self-denial, only a few years' patience, have been so blessed at last ? No: I will not believe it. To think that would drive me mad.'

She sat in the balcony, looking down at the water dreamily, with folded arms resting on the broad stone balustrade, sat living old days over again in a mournful reverie that was not altogether bitter -nay rather perilously sweet, for it brought back the past and the feelings that belonged to the past with a strange reality. Memory opened the gates of a paradise, like that Swedenborgian heaven in which all fairest earthly things have their shadow types. And from the things that had been, her thoughts wandered to the things that might have been-the life she might have lived, had she been true to Malcolm Forde.

'He would have made me a good woman,' she thought; and what have I been without him?'

Her newly-awakened conscience reviewed her past life, a career of frivolity and selfishness unleavened by one charitable thought or one noble act. She had lived for herself and to please herself, and

Heaven, as if in anger, had snatched from her the chosen delight of her selfish soul-the child whose influence might have redeemed her useless life, drawn her world-stained soul heavenwards.

Dark was the picture of her life to look back upon; darker still her vision of the future: growing estrangement between her husband and herself-her power lessening daily as her beauty decayed; sinister influences at work to divide them, and on her own part an apathy and disgust which made her shrink from any attempt to retain her hold upon his affection.

The booming of the great gong in the hall below reminded her of the common business of life, but hardly awakened her from her day-dream. She hurried to her dressing-room, and suffered herself to be arrayed for the evening, and went down to the drawing-room, where the Viscount and his friends were dispersed upon the ottomans in all manner of attitudes expressive of extreme prostration, feebly pretending to read newspapers, or look at the pictures in magazines, while they sustained muttered discussions about the odds against this horse, or the chances in favour of that. They made a little pretence of picking themselves up and drawing themselves together at the entrance of Lady Paulyn. Mr. Spink, the literary gentleman, said something funny, in the Saturday-Review-and-water style, about Scotch Sabbaths, but, not receiving the faintest encouragement, returned to the study of Bell's Life in a state of collapse.

I don't know what's the matter with her ladyship this evening,' he said afterwards in a burst of confidence, but she looks as if she were walking in her sleep.'

Never was sleep-walker less conscious of her surroundings than Elizabeth that night. She performed the duties of her position. mechanically; made very fair answers to the inanities which were addressed to her; smiled a faint cold smile now and then; turned the leaves of the book she pretended to read after dinner; caressed the privileged hound who stretched his long limbs beside her chair, and laid his head among the silken folds of her dress, her favourite companion at times, and fondly devoted to her always.

If the strangeness of her manner were evident to the careless eyes of Mr. Spink-a gentleman who considered the universe a clever contrivance designed as a setting for that jewel Spink-it was much more obvious to the eyes of Hilda Disney, eyes that were sharpened by a jealousy which had never slept since the day when Reginald Paulyn first betrayed his admiration for the Vicar's daughter.

What could have happened within the last few hours to bring about so marked a change? That pale set face, those dreary awestricken eyes, as of one who had held converse with the very dead -what could these denote ?

It was not an edifying Sunday evening by any means. The Scottish underlings of the household shivered as the click of the

billiard-balls made itself heard in the servants' hall an hour or two after dinner-but how could the Viscount and his friends have lived through the day without billiards?

Elizabeth looked up from her book after a long reverie, to find herself alone with Hilda in the great empty drawing-room; only they two, sitting ever so far apart, like shipwrecked mariners who had been cast ashore on some desert island, and who were not on speaking terms.

'I hope there is nothing the matter, Lady Paulyn?' said Hilda ; 'you are looking so unlike yourself to-night.'

Elizabeth stared at her for a moment doubtfully, with that almost vacant look which had startled Mr. Spink.

There is nothing the matter-only-only that I am tired of this place!'

Already? Why, we have been here only a few weeks, and Reginald likes the life so much.'

That does not oblige me to live here. The place would kill me. I can't endure the solitude. It makes me think too much.

I should go mad if I stayed here.'

This from her, who a few hours ago had thanked God for her Scottish home, had deemed it joy and peace unspeakable to breathe the air that was breathed by Malcolm Forde, to live from the beginning to the end of every week cradled in the hope of seeing him for a little while on Sunday! Yes, she had thought all this, but conscience had awakened with much thinking, and she began to feel that even in this delight, which involved no hope of meeting him face to face, of being forgiven, of hearing him speak her name with something of the old tenderness-even in this there was sin. Danger, in the common sense of the word, there could be none, for was not Malcolm Forde as a rock, against whose calm breast the waves of passion beat in vain? But she knew there was peril to her soul in this vicinity, she knew it by the passionate yearning that filled her heart as she sat by this joyless hearth and thought of the life that might have been had she held by her treasure when it was hers to hold, if she had not, at least for a little while, loved earthly pomps and vanities better than Malcolm Forde.

I can quite imagine that the exertion of thinking must be a new sensation after your life in Park-lane,' said Miss Disney, with her icy sneer; but wouldn't it be as well to encourage the habit ? The world will hardly be big enough for you if you always run away from thought. And as you grow older, you would find the exercise useful as a way of getting rid of winter evenings. You remember what Talleyrand said to the young man who couldn't play whist? "What a melancholy old age you are preparing for yourself!"

Elizabeth did not trouble herself to dispute the justice of these observations. She started up from her seat, went over to one of

the windows, and flung it open with a sharp decisive action that indicated a mind overwrought. Innumerable stars were shining in the deep dark sky; stars that shone upon him too, she thought, as she looked up at them, with that old, old thought which has thrilled the soul of every man and woman who ever lived, at least once in a lifetime. 'Did he recognise me to-day as I drove past him? does he know that I am near? Does he think of me, and pity me, and regret the foolishness that parted us? O, no; to regret would be sin, and he never sins.'

Lord Paulyn came into the room while his wife was standing at the open window, listening idly to the slow ripple of the waves, looking idly at the glory of the stars, lost in thought; quite unconscious of anything that happened in the room behind her.

He came in alone, languidly yawning. Miss Disney beckoned him over to her, with a somewhat mysterious air.

look!'

What's the matter, Hilda? How confoundedly solemn you

'I am afraid Lady Paulyn is not well.'

'Bosh! She was well enough at dinner. She's been giving herself airs, I suppose. Let her alone, as I do, and she'll come round fast enough.'

'No, no, it's not that. But I really think there is something strange about her. Did you not notice something in the expression of her face at dinner?'

'I have left off watching her looks. I know she's a remarkably handsome woman, and she knows it; and has given herself no end of airs on the strength of her good looks. But there are limits to a man's patience, and my stock of that commodity is very nearly exhausted.'

'Do you remember what you told me about her illness, after the death of your son?'

The Viscount started, frowned, and looked at his cousin with suppressed anger.

" Do you remember telling me that there was a time when the doctors feared that her mind would never recover from that shock?'

'I told you what the doctors said; but the doctors are humbugs. They had a good case, and wanted to make the most of it. I never thought anything of the kind myself. But why the do you bring this up to-night?'

'Don't be angry. I am only anxious for your sake as well as hers. There is something very strange in her manner to-night. Of course it may mean nothing, only it is my duty to warn you.'

'O, hang duty!' cried Lord Paulyn impatiently. I never knew duty urge any one to do anything pleasant. The moment any one mentions duty, I know that I'm in for it.'

He turned upon his heel, paced the room two or three times in an angry mood, and then went out to the balcony, where his wife was standing.

'What are you doing out here star-gazing?' he asked.

The reply came in a softer tone than he was accustomed to hear from Elizabeth's lips.

'I have been thinking a great deal this evening, Reginald, and I am going to ask you a favour. Please don't call me capricious, or be angry with me for asking it; and if you can possibly grant it, pray do.' 'What the deuce do you want?' he asked ungraciously; 'more money, I suppose. You didn't make a clean breast of it the other day when you gave me your bills-though they were heavy enough, in conscience' name.'

It isn't anything about money. I want you to take me away from this place. I know it is very beautiful. I thought at first I should never be tired of the mountains and the loch, and the sea that lies beyond; but the solitude is killing me. Do let us go away, Reginald, anywhere. I should be happier anywhere than here.'

I thought as much,' cried Lord Paulyn, with a hard laugh. 'I thought there was some plot hatching between you and Hilda. You'd both like to spread your wings, I daresay. You'd like to go to Paris, or Baden-Baden, or Hombourg, or Brighton. Some nice crowded place, where you could spend money like water. No, my dear Elizabeth, when I brought you here, I brought you here to stay. I know Slogh-na-Dyack isn't lively, but it's healthy, as the doctors all acknowledge, and for the time being it suits me very well indeed. I came here to diminish my expenses, and I mean to stick here till I've filled the hole you dug in my bank balance by your extravagance last season.'

What!' cried Elizabeth, with ineffable disdain. 'You are here for the sake of hoarding your money!

You bring

me to this Why don't

out-of-the-way place in order that I may cost you less!

you send me away altogether? You could save more money that way. I could live upon a hundred a year.'

you

'Then I am sorry you have never tried the experiment since have been my wife.'

'Give me back my liberty. Let me go and live somewhere abroad-under a feigned name-alone, my own mistress, free to think my own thoughts, away from this wretched artificial life, which at its best seems to me like acting a part in a stage play. Let me do that, and I will not ask you for a farthing. I will live on the pittance that belongs to me.'

'A very safe offer-even if you meant it, which you don't,' ansswered Lord Paulyn, coolly. No, I married you because I was fool enough to be fond of you, and I'm fool enough to be fond of you still. But there comes an end to the period in which a man rather