74.72.

FRASER'S MAGAZINE,

JULY 1881.

THE

IN TRUST.

THE STORY OF A LADY AND HER Lover.

CHAPTER XVI.

GOOD ADVICE.

THE dinner to which the family sat down after this ride somewhat alarmed the stranger-relative who so suddenly found himself mixed up in their affairs. He thought it could be nothing but constrained and uncomfortable. But this did not turn out to be the case. Anne knew nothing at all about what her father had been doing, and from Rose's light nature the half comprehended scene at luncheon, when her mother had wept and her father's face had been like a thundercloud, had already faded away. These two unconscious members of the party kept the tide of affairs in flow. They talked as usual-Anne even more than usual, as one who is unaware of the critical point at which, to the knowledge of all around, he or she is standing, so often does. She gave even a little more information than was called for about her visit to the Woodheads, being in her own mind half ashamed of her cowardice in staying away after the scene of the morning. On the whole she was glad, she persuaded herself, of the scene of the morning. It had placed her position beyond doubt. There had seemed no occasion to make any statement to her father as to the correspondence which he had not forbidden, or indeed referred to. He had bidden her give up her lover, and she had refused; but he had said nothing about the lover's letters, though these followed as a matter of course. And now it was well that he should know the exact position of affairs. She had been greatly agitated at the moment, but soon composed herself. And in her desire to show that she was satisfied, not grieved by what had happened, Anne was more than usually cheerful and communicative in her talk.

Fanny is very happy about her brother who is coming home from India. He is to be here only six weeks; but he does not grudge the long journey: and they are all so happy.'

'He is a fool for his pains,' growled Mr. Mountford from the head of the table. I don't know what our young men are coming No. 619 (No. CXXXIX. N. ɛ.)

B

to. What right has he to hundred pounds at the least. many years

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such a luxury? It will cost him a Six weeks-he has not been gone as

Four years-that is a long time when people are fond of each other,' said Anne, with a scarcely perceptible smile. Every individual at table instantly thought of the absent lover.

'She is thinking that I will be dead and gone in four years, and she will be free,' the angry father said to himself, with a vindictive sense that he was justified in the punishment he meant to inflict upon her. But Anne, indeed, was thinking of nothing of the kind, only with a visionary regret that in her own family there was no one to come eager over sea and land to be longed and prayed for with Fanny Woodhead's anxious sisterly motherly passion. This was far, very far from the imagination of the others as a motive likely to produce such a sigh.

A brother from India is always anxiously looked for,' said Mrs. Mountford, stepping in with that half-compunctious readiness to succour Anne which the knowledge of this day's proceedings had produced in her. She did not, in fact, know what these proceedings had been, and they were in no way her fault. But still she felt a compunction. They always bring such quantities of things with them,' she added. An Indian box is the most delightful thing to open. I had a brother in India, too

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'I wish we had,' said Rose, with a pout. Heathcote had been preoccupied he had not been so 'attentive' as usual: and she wished for a brother instantly, 'just to spite him,' she said to herself. 'Fanny is not thinking of the presents; but Rose, consider you are interested in it, too-that is another man for your dance.'

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Rose clapped her hands. 'We are looking up!' she said. 'Twenty men from Sandhurst, and six from Meadowlands, and Lady Prayrey Poule's husband, and Fred Woodhead and Willie Ashley— for of course Willie is coming

'A dance at this time of the year is folly,' said Mr. Mountford; even in summer it is bad enough; but the only time of the year for entertainments in the country is when you have warm weather and short nights.'

'It was because of Cousin Heathcote, papa. It is not often we have a inan, a real relation, staying at Mount.'

'Heathcote! oh, so it is for your sake, Heathcote? I did not know that dancing was an attribute of reasonable beings after thirty,' Mr. Mountford said.

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Then it was Anne who came to Heathcote's aid. You are not afraid of seeming frivolous?' she said, giving him the kindest look he had yet seen in her eyes; and his heart was touched by it: he had not known that Anne's eyes had been so fine and it will please everybody. The country requires to be stirred up now and then. We like to have something to talk about, to say "Are you going to the So-and-so's on the 25th ?”›

'An admirable reason certainly for trouble and expense. If you were electioneering, it might be reasonable; but I presume your woman's rights are not so advanced yet as that. Miss Anne Mountford can't stand for the county!'

'I don't think she is likely to try, father,' said Anne, 'whatever might be the rights-or wrongs.'

You must not think, Mr. Heathcote,' said Mrs. Mountford anxiously, 'that Anne has anything to say to women's rights. She is far too sensible. She has her own ways of thinking, but she is no more absurd or strong-minded

'I hope you do not think me weak-minded, mamma,' Anne said, with a soft laugh.

And then little more was said. Mr. Mountford half rose and mumbled that grace after meat which leaves out all the more ethereal part of the repast as, we suppose, a kind of uncovenanted mercies for which no thanks are to be uttered, and after a while the ladies left the room. It was cold, but the whole frosty world outside lay enchanted under the whitening of the moon. The girls caught up fur cloaks and shawls as they went through the hall, and stepped outside involuntarily. The sky was intensely blue; the clouds piled high in snowy masses, the moon sailing serenely across the great expanse, veiling herself lightly here and there with a film of vapour which the wind had detached from the cloud-mountains. These filmy fragments were floating across the sky at extraordinary speed, and the wind was rising, whirling down showers of leaves. The commotion among the trees, the sound of the wind, the rapid flight of the clouds, all chimed in with Anne's mood. She took hold of her sister's arm with gentle force. Stay a little, Rose-it is all quiet inside, and here there is so much going on: it is louder than one's thoughts,' Anne said.

'What do you mean by being louder than your thoughts? Your thoughts are not loud at all-not mine at least: and I don't like those dead leaves all blowing into my face; they feel like things touching you. I think I shall go in, Anne.'

'Not yet, dear. I like it: it occupies one in spite of one's self. The lawn will be all yellow to-morrow with scattered gold.'

'You mean with scattered leaves; of course it will,' said Rose. When the wind is high like this it brings the leaves down like anything. The lime trees will be stripped, and it is a pity, for they were pretty. Everything is pretty this year. Papa has been in to Hunston,' she said, abruptly, looking Anne in the face; but it was very difficult even for Rose's keen little eyes to distinguish in the moonlight whether or not Anne knew.

Anne took very little notice of this bit of news. 'So Saymore told me. Did Mr. Heathcote see the church, I wonder? I hope some one told him how fine it was, and that there were some Mount'ford monuments.'

'Do you know what papa was doing in Hunston, Anne? He

went to see Mr. Loseby. Mamma made quite a fuss when he went away. She would not tell me what it was. Perhaps she did not know herself. She often gets into quite a state about things she doesn't know. Can you tell me what papa could want with Mr. Loseby? you can see for yourself how cross he is now he has come back.'

'With Mr. Loseby? no, I cannot tell you, Rose.' Anne heard the news with a little thrill of excitement. It was rarely that Mr. Mountford went so far; very rarely that he did anything which, through his wife, or Saymore, or Rose herself, did not find its way to the knowledge of the entire household. Anne connected the incident of the morning with this recent expedition, and her heart beat faster in her breast. Well she was prepared; she had counted the cost. If she was to be disinherited, that could be borne-but not to be untrue.

'That means you will not tell me, Anne. I wonder why I should always be the last to know. For all anyone can tell, it may just be of as much consequence to me as to you, if he went to tamper with his will, as Mamma said. What do you call tampering with a will? I don't see,' cried Rose indignantly, why I should always be supposed too young to know. Most likely it is of just as much consequence to me as to you.'

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'Rose,' cried her mother, from the window, 'come in-come in at once! How can you keep that child out in the cold, Anne, when you know what a delicate throat she has?' Then Mrs. Mountford gave an audible shiver and shut down the window hastily; for it was very cold.

I have nothing to tell you, dear,' Anne said gently. But you are quite right; if there is any change made, it will be quite as important to you as to me: only you must not ask me about it, for my father does not take me into his confidence, and I don't know.'

'You don't want to tell me!' said the girl; but this time Mrs. Mountford knocked loudly on the window, and Rose was not sufficiently emancipated to neglect the second summons. Anne walked with her sister to the door, but then came back again to the sheltered walk under the windows. It was a melancholy hour when one was alone. The yellow leaves came down in showers flying on the wind. The clouds pursued each other over the sky. The great masses of vapours behind the wind began to invade the frosty blue; yet still the moon held on serenely, though her light was more and more interrupted by sudden blanks of shadow. Anne had no inclination to go in to the quiet of the drawing room, the needlework, and Mrs. Mountford's little lectures, and perhaps the half-heard chattering with which Rose amused and held possession of her cousin. To her, whose happier life was hidden in the distance, it was more congenial to stay out here among the flying winds and falling leaves. If it was so that Fortune was forsaking her; if her father had carried out his threat and she was now penniless, with nothing but