me."

Of course we said all that was kind on the occasion, my dear father adding many gallant speeches, and remarking that he did not know what would become of little Cecil during "Mamma Danton's" absence.

"But your brothers, my dear madam,” replied my father in a hesitating manner, yet looking pleased at the proposal; "they may not like the presence of a spoiled child?"

"Oh, they will do whatever I bid them," answered Mrs. Danton laughingly; "so we must consider it settled; and the earl accompanies me, together with his nurse." The nurse was a sturdy peasant girl.

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May we not hope to see your brothers at Edenside, Mrs. Danton?" said my father: "we can promise them a cordial welcome, though I fear we are unprepared to do honor to noble guests, so far as exteriors are concerned." Mrs. Danton gracefully acknowledged the courtesy; there was a proud humility and sadness about Lord St. Just whenever he alluded to his poverty. Then I always hated my uncle's memory and my uncle's son, and Mrs. Danton read my inmost soul, and knew I did.

Good heavens! my blood curdled at her voice and manner. Was I mad? What did she mean to insinuate? Dared I ask her? No! I could not bring my tongue to frame a sentence. I must be a very wretch myself to suspect another of evil designs, and that other the gentle Mrs. Danton! "Away with these detestable suspicions," I cried, or I shall go mad in reality: yet how her eyes haunt me they imply more than tongue can express!' Fever was in my blood-I was miserable. I longed to fly to Barley Wood, and confide my feelings to Mrs. Edmondstone and Basil. But what had I to confide? Mrs. Danton, they knew, was anxious about the child's health for my father's sake, and she kindly proposed taking him with her to R for change of air and sea-bathing: they had not seen her looks or heard her voice, and how dared I hint my foul suspicions? I loathed myself, and began to doubt my sanity.

On the evening previous to Mrs. Danton's departure, which was to take place at an early hour in the morning, in order to perform the fifty miles' journey by easy stages for the child's sake, she joined me in the corridor, where I was pacing to and fro in the streaming moonlight.

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"I fear you are not well, my dearest," she said caressingly, passing her arm round me; you appear feverish and restless."

"Injurious thoughts. Oh, ask me no more; I dare not name them; but promise promise me to guard and watch over my uncle's son with fidelity and truth!"

It was her turn now to gaze with wild amazement on me, as with passionate emphasis she cried, Your acting is excellent, Lady Marjory St. Just; but wherefore waste it on me? Why not reserve your strength for future emergencies, when the audience may be worthy of such display?"

So saying, she left me kneeling in the moonlight, pressing my hands on my throbbing temples, stupefied and tearless. What had I done or said? Had I insulted Mrs. Danton? Did she guess the thoughts that were swiftly passing through my mind, and abhor me for them? The wailing winds were sweeping round the gables, and waving the dark tree-tops like funereal plumes, seeming to my excited imagination as if innumerable wings were swiftly rushing past-good and guardian angels forsaking Edenside!

CHAPTER V.

NIGHTS of delirium and days of exhaustion succeeded Mrs. Danton's departure; Fibsey saw that I was ill, and plainly told me it was the sickness of the mind, urging me to confide my grief to her who had nurtured me from my birth, and received me from my dying mother's arms.

"Oh. Fibsey," I cried, "would that I dare tell you my misery-I comprehend it not myself. It seems as if some baneful, unseen influence was coiled around me, and that what I could not, that I think. Fibsey, did you ever hear there was madness in our family? Perhaps I am the victim of insanity."

Tenderly and assiduously Fibsey sought to allay my fears, assuring me that the St. Justs had always been considered a peculiarly sensible and wellconducted race; and that the shock and disappointment I had sustained on my uncle's death were quite sufficient to account for this derangement of my nervous system. Yes, that was it, doubtless. I snatched at the idea; it was my nerves that were disordered; and Mrs. Edmondstone, who came to Edenside, agreed with Fibsey, commiserating my pallid looks and wretched condition.

Racked nerves accounted for these morbid fancies and baleful visions when sleep brought no refreshment; but still-still, oh I was cunning, as mad people often are, and I knew it. I never hinted that it was the child's absence with Mrs. Danton that worked upon me now; I never told them how I yearned to clasp him to my bosom, and hold him there in safety for evermore.

In Mrs. Danton's letters she dwelt on the exhilarating enjoyment of their sea expeditions, when little Cecil, with his nurse always accompanied them. At length she wrote that Don Guzman had sailed for Cadiz in his yacht, being suddenly summoned on urgent business. "He left us this morning, but Felix remains here for the present; and, as the day is calm, is waiting to row the earl

avoided. Mrs. Danton was always present during these visits; and I observed that Mrs. Edmondstone never looked at or addressed her, save when strict courtesy demanded it.

Another guest was now admitted at Edenside without my knowledge or permission-this was Don Felix d'Aguilar; and Mrs. Danton seemed to view it as a matter of course that her brother should be almost domesticated beneath the same roof with her. I was hers-yes-hers! She claimed me by a silent, mysterious influence-as if I had invoked a Zamiel-ever ready to envelop me in the shadowy folds of a mantle of blackness. I had seen pictures of Spanish brigands, and I thought that Mrs. Danton's brother resembled one of these; but his manners were pleasing, though his appearance was fierce. It was by very slow degrees that his evident desire to please assumed the form of an assiduity which became offensive; nor was it possible for me to mistake the meaning of his attentions. Despite continued repulse on my part, the persecutions of Don Felix increased to such an unbearable extent, that, notwithstanding my weak state, I saw it was imperative that I summoned up courage to speak explicitly to Mrs. Danton, and remonstrate with her, if necessary, on the annoyance her brother's presence caused me.

"My brother loves you, Lady Marjory," she replied in answer to my mild representations: "he woos you for his wife. Nor will you be degraded by union with a D'Aguilar, for our blood is more ancient than your own.'

"But it is impossible, Mrs. Danton," I exclaimed with more spirit than I had yet had the power to evince" it is impossible that now, or at any future time, I can listen to your brother's addresses; and let me hope that, after this explanation, I may be released from further persecution. My decision is unalterable; and you will oblige me by requesting your brother not to intrude upon me again."

I had been led to speak thus by the provoking smile of insolence which distorted Mrs. Danton's beauty yes, absolutely distorted it. She looked a bold, designing, revengeful woman.

“This to me?" she cried in an angry, taunting voice; "this to me? Is this your gratitude? Do you dare to brave me?"

"I understand you not, Mrs. Danton," my voice faltered; "and I would fain hope that I am deeply grateful for your care during my long sickness, though I cannot see how even that may warrant your using such singular language."

"I have witnessed your excellent acting more than once, Lady Marjory; or I should say, with all due deference, Countess of Mertoun!" Here she curtsied ironically.

"O, would to Heaven," I cried, "that the hated title were not mine!"

"You are a little too late in your wishes," she continued in her former strain. "You thought rather differently previous to my going to the coast."

Say not so, Mrs. Danton; O say not so, if you hope for mercy hereafter, or I shall be mad again! What you hint at is too frightful for me to contemplate, and live."

lay in the roadside inn, when raging fever scorched my veins. Was delirium returning again, with the horrible visions of the past?

"Mrs. Danton"-I spoke with unnatural calmness; I staked my all on her answer-"what dark deed do you allude to which you infer I was cognizant of?"

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"O, this is too-too much!" She laughed wildly, as with the gestures of a fury she screamed, I infer nothing, but I affirm that you wished for the child's death, and I claim the price of his life at your hands; deny it on your peril! Consent to be the wife of Don Felix d'Aguilar, and your share in this deed-your share by abetting and consenting-shall be hushed up forever. Refuse, and I will brand you to the world-to Basil Edmondstone. Ay, you may start, for I know your heart's secret-even to my own destruction! We will perish together. Think you to pass free-think you to escape-with such a debt as this between us? Remember, ere you decide, that revenge is sweet when love has flown."

I knelt in abject misery before 'Mrs. Danton. though a mist and gathering darkness seemed closing around me. I knelt, imploring her to recall those dreadful words: not to save me from exposure to the world and to Basil Edmondstone, for I was ready to swear that I would never see him more, if she would but express her belief that I had not wished the death of the innocent child by unfair means.

"Pay the price of his life," she cried vehemently," and I will say whatever you desire, and endeavor to believe you!"

"Never! I deny the debt, and repel the charge with destestation," I exclaimed, the proud, determined spirit of my ancestors swelling and boiling in my outraged breaking heart. But, alas! my steps tottered, the room swam round, and my weakened frame lost a sense of mortal sorrow in the oblivion of long-continued insensibility.

CHAPTER VI.

FOR days succeeding this scene with Mrs. Danton I was sensible of being closely watched, and literally a prisoner in my own house. Fibsey attended upon me, but she looked scared and bewildered, spoke little, and avoided entering into conversation. It is true that she was always accompanied by Mrs. Danton, who had evidently regained all her former influence over the old woman, doubtless by humoring her prejudices and foibles; for Fibsey, despite an affectionate nature, was often obstinate and domineering. Mrs. Danton treated me as a petted child, coaxing and caressing; but I quailed beneath her eye, and when I clung to my ancient nurse, intreating her not to leave or forsake me, but to send for Mrs. Edmondstone, she looked appealingly at my tyrant, who whispered something in her ear, and turned to me with an authoritative air, oddly mingled with a show of tenderness-a show, indeed, for I read hate and revenge in the expression of her countenance.

"And yet you did not think it too frightful for me to do, Marjory St. Just. You are young to be so consummate a hypocrite and deceiver!"

Felix's hated addresses. That evening, as Mrs. Danton sat beside me, Fibsey busying herself about the apartment, I opened the subject by commencing "I have long wished to speak with you, Mrs. Danton, on a painful topic from which I shrink; nevertheless, I must delay no longer informing you of my unalterable decisions respecting the future. I am utterly careless of the constructions that may be placed on my conduct, for this misery is greater than I can bear."

"And what may be your sage resolves?" said Mrs. Danton with a pitying smile of contempt. "Never to assume the hated title which my uncle's son inherited-never to touch the fatal wealth! To cast it from me as I would cast the wages of iniquity, and in poverty, reproach, and humiliation, to lead a life of self-subjection; for I have tampered with guilt-not the black guilt which you impute to me-but that which is more shadowy, and more leniently viewed by the world -the guilt of contemplating with satisfaction the possibility of the unfortunate boy's accidental decease. Oh, Mrs. Danton, say you have trifled with me; say that his end was accidental-that he fell not a victim by your contrivance and at my suggestion! Spare me, spare me, or take my life too; for reason is nearly unseated!"

I tried in vain to check the hysterical paroxysms that gained the mastery, and I thrust their proffered services away with violence. Then I overheard Mrs. Danton whisper to Fibsey, "I fear we cannot hush up the matter much longer; she is becoming worse, and we must call in help." I saw Fibsey shake her head, and I essayed to speak calmly, but my struggles nearly choked me.

"Fibsey, Fibsey, what does all this mean? I am not ill-I am not mad; but you will make me so! Send for Mrs. Edmondstone. Who dares

prevent it?"

corridor, and succeeded in unfastening the door. Mrs. Danton's room was at the other end, and I did not fear that she would detect the noise. I sprang down the steps-across the greensward. glistening in the cold moonlight with heavy dew; I threaded my way among the well-known but intricate paths and defiles-passed the shrubbery— down towards the valley and the streams-through the wicket-gate-out into the open pastures; there I stood alone-Barley Wood ten miles off, my weak fame tottering, but my spirit brave. "Onward, onward, or death!" I cried. I have no clear idea how I gained a small farmhouse, distant about a mile and a half. Farmer Aston, the proprietor, had loved and respected my father, who, on more than one occasion, had befriended him in times of need. I succeeded in gaining admittance, and in persuading the farmer to drive me in his covered cart to the spot I yearned to reach. I made Dame Aston comprehend that I was flying from persecu tion and despair, though she glanced at her goodman with a puzzled air, as he dubiously shook his gray head, and hinted that I had best return to Edenside.

"No, no!" I cried; "if you will not have pity on me, I must toil on on foot; but I must reach Barley Wood ere daylight dawns; and can you do wrong, Farmer Aston, in conveying me to the good Mrs. Edmondstone?"

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Nay, nay, I doan't think I can, your ladyship, though my missis and I be sore grieved to see ye in such a plight like. But I'll put to Dobbin, and carry ye over to the minister's in less nor an hour."

I bade him go to Edenside, on his return, and tell Fibsey that I had sought refuge with Mrs. Edmondstone; for, notwithstanding her late singular behaviour, I knew how agonized the old soul would be when she awoke and found her caged bird flown.

Fibsey slept in an adjoining closet which communicated with my apartment, the door being left open. I refused the night-potion, saying I felt drowsy without it, and closing my eyes, as if asleep. Very soon I heard indubitable signs that Fibsey was in a deep slumber, and soon after the midnight chimes, I rose, threw on my clothes, and a large warm cloak and hood which amply protected me. The key of my chamber door was in Fibsey's pocket, which, with the rest of her apparel, lay by her bed-side; tremblingly I extracted it, applied it to the key-hole, and stood in the corridor, where the moonlight streamed in as it had done on that well-remembered night previous to Mrs. Danton's departure for the coast. All was still, yet my poor heart throbbed almost to suffocation; here, in my own house, to be stealing out like a criminal, it was verily strange and dreadful! I had but one overpowering desire-to reach Barley Wood, to throw myself on the protection of those dear friends, and to unravel or break the meshes of that detestable web which was closing around me like the grave.

I gained the garden entrance at the end of the

had heard Basil say, "We will talk over these distressing matters in the morning, my dear Lady Marjory; but be comforted-put your trust in Him from whose scrutiny nothing is hid."

In the morning, I recapitulated to Basil and his mother all that had taken place: I made a full confession of the past; of my own weakness and culpability in harboring thoughts of "possibilities," suggested by Mrs. Danton; of the horrible suspicions she had awakened by her tone of voice and looks, and of my shame to breathe these foul suspicions to any human creature; of the frenzy her letter from the coast wrought in me-all the rest they knew-attributing my illness to the sudden shock. But one circumstance had impressed them strongly against Mrs. Danton, which was this: Fanny, the deceased child's nurse, now a domestic at Barley Wood, having partially recoved from her attack of lethargic headache, (which she persisted was "a very odd one,") unexpectedly entered the apartment where Mrs. Danton and Don Felix d'Aguilar were closeted, on their return from that fatal excursion. Fanny had not learned the disaster, but she heard them laughing and talking, and sought the little earl. Mrs. Danton, whose back