thea might wish or try to do, I thought she cannot yet have hurt Helen in any serious way. And I do feel some faith in my Vienna correspondent.

Saturday afternoon came, and Helen appeared to meet me with a bunch of roses in her hand. We proceeded to the favourite nook in the rocks, where her work-basket had already been deposited. She looked so bonny and cheerful that though longing to ask explanation of her parting speech, I would not at once remind her of what seemed painful. I asked her about certain singing lessons her letter had mentioned, and found they had afforded her much pleasure. The gentleman who gave them was an Italian concert singer, who having an engagement at Liverpool, had been induced by Lady Althea to come as far as Cardington Castle. Some additional payment had been made to him by Lady Arabella on Helen's account. "The worst of it, was," said that young lady, the gentleman was so unwise as to give most encouragement to the pupil who paid least."

Lady Althea did not like that, I suppose?" "No, it brought matters to a crisis. From the first I doubted that her kindness towards me was genuine, and expected she would not let me go without something to make me feel her power. After all, though she stabbed me deeply enough, and I am afraid I am the weaker at heart for it, there was not all the poison in the wound she thought there might be."

"Tell me, dear, what it was."

"It fell out just this way. It was on the evening of Tuesday, during supper, that conversation turned upon 'The Princess,' and so, thanks to him who thought of sending me the book, I was able to join in with a little confidence. The following morning while I was engaged setting right some embroidery Lady Arabella had made mistakes in, Lady Althea mentioned that Mr. Mainwaring had won a prize at Oxford for poetry. She said a bit or two of his writing she had thought so pretty as to be worth keeping, and would shew them to me if I would come to her boudoir. I did not feel very desirous, for I anticipated something laudatory of the lady herself, but of course it would not have done to decline.

"When I entered her boudoir-a lovely little room it is-she had several objects of interest to point out to me; and I believe purposely dallied with them until Miss French, from the terrace under the window, threw up a flower and called to her to make haste to see some strange bird one of the gardeners had taken in a net. Then, all in a hurry, Lady Althea opened a drawer in her cabinet, and just glancing at one of the numerous papers it contained said, 'Ah,-that is it,' gave it into my hand and departed. What do you think it was, poetry? Yes, poetry in prose. It was a loveletter. I never knew what a love-letter could

be before."

love me; not as he has loved, as he can love. It is quite another thing. I am his little sister in comparison. But, dear," and she smiled very sweetly, "I did not marry him in the thought that he loved me. I dared not dream of such a love. And now, I only feel that he is worthy to be loved by the best woman that ever breathed; and I love him-he is my husband. I wish indeed I could think it possible he ever might love me, even as he loved her when he wrote; but at least I can deserve better than she has done. Ah, he thought she was an angel, he loved her as one; and she is what she is."

"You believe she did this intentionally?"

"I am certain of it. I did not cry about it, I felt stunned. Then thinking how malicious it was of her, I rallied my spirit, went to the drawing-room and restored the letter. I said, I conclude, Lady Althea, you do not wish your maid to read this, so I have brought it to you.' 'What do you think of it ?' she asked, but her eyes were down on her book. truly poetic,' I answered, and does great credit to the imagination of the writer.' She looked up then; her eyes met mine. In that glance I had assurance enough that she well knew what she had given me. She knew too, I was awake to her intention."

'It is

"It was a mean and cruel part to play. You did not say anything about it to Lady

Arabella ?"

"Yes, I did. I used to go to her room every morning before she rose. Of course I did not charge Lady Althea with any intention of hurting my feelings, but I mentioned what it was I read, and said that I was before quite aware there had been an attachment between Mr. Mainwaring and Lady Althea. Lady Arabella affected to treat the matter lightly, as a boy's romantic folly, and went on to assure me of his profound affection for myself. In fact, she tried to console me and over-shot the mark. The one thing I most desired she assured me was as I would have it, but I could not believe her."

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May I know what that was ?"

"I had noticed that the handwriting of the letter, though the same in all essential points, was less flowing and decided in character than Mr. Mainwaring's is. There was no date of month or year upon it, but the envelope was stamped with June, last year, and I did not perceive the difference I have described in the address upon that. I wished to believe the enclosures had been written at some earlier time. Lady Arabella pretended to be certain it must have been so. She said her neice mixed up her papers anyhow; that there had been no love nonsense between her and Arden since he was a mere boy. I knew better than that, for last summer their engagement was spoken of as a settled thing. It was at the time he came up from Oxford after having greatly distinguished himself. There was a large party at the Castle, but the two were constantly together. Mr Hawkins spoke of it

Well, dear Helen, Lady Arabella may have overstated facts in her anxiety to set your mind at rest; still, I do not think your idea was unlikely to be correct. The evening before your marriage I spoke freely to Mr. Mainwaring on the subject of his previous engagement. I happened to know before, how I may tell you some day, that the said engagement existed no longer."

"Are you sure?" she asked eagerly; are you quite sure it was not resigned when he was tempted by my grandfather's offer?"

"My darling Helen, I am sure. What could put such an idea into your head?"

"I have been fighting it hard, but it would come, again and again."

"Now to punish you for letting it come at all, I will tell you that Arden Mainwaring's heart was carried by storm at the early age of fifteen. He had then, I understand, just returned from a long stay on the continent, and no doubt that circumstance was propitious to his fair enslaver. I hear she was even more lovely then, than she is now."

"Oh yes, she was; her face was exquisite when I first saw her."

"I do not know at what age Mr. Mainwaring was engaged to her, but Mr. Brown acquainted me with the fact that three years back he was jilted. However, her ladyship contrived to make up matters, and although while he has been studying at Oxford she may have been flirting in all directions, I do not see that we need think the worse of him for being constant in his attachment until he was fairly convinced, as he says he was, that it was undesirable their union should take place."

"Had that happened before the archery meeting?"

80

"Oh, yes." "I hoped so. I thought he did not quite love her then. I feel now that I wonder I should have suspected otherwise, considering some things he has said in his letters. I believe it was Lady Althea's manner of speaking of him induced the thought. The first days of my visit, when she was trying to get round me, she spoke indeed as if she were Arden's sister. So anxious for his happiness, conscious of his goodness, so desirous that I should love him! And yet, all the time she conveyed to me the idea that he was somehow less worthy of love than I have thought him. Oh, I am sure they cannot understand him; neither Lord Cardington nor Lady Althea, nor his own mother even! They seemed to raise up in my mind another Arden Mainwaring; a very much admired, clever, handsome, brilliant relation of theirs, but not the same as my own Mr. Mainwaring. Theirs seemed almost weakly fond on some points. It seemed he was one who must cling to them and love them through good and through evil, if only they

would permit it. Their Arden required that they should watch over him, for fear without their wisdom he should do some wrong or foolish thing. Now I have been feeling all this, but never said it so plainly-not to myself. I have felt cheerful or dejected according as I have believed in my own Mr. Mainwaring, or have been troubled with the ghost of theirs. The sight of you seemed to do me good; for though you may not think him perfect, still you do not look upon him in that light."

"I should like to lay that ghost effectually. Do you remember a conversation we had the first time you visited me about ideal personages, and concerning selections?"

"Yes, I remember you said great minds would be likely to select for observation what was best worth consideration, and inferior per sons could not appreciate the nobler points in a character. I think I understand what you would say, selfish and unprincipled people are not likely to appreciate Arden Mainwaring."

"That is what I was thinking of. When they praised him it was for what they held most worthy of praise in him, all that they could make subservient to their glorification or convenience. Moreover if you could have been persuaded that he was mere wax in their hands, the government which he as your husband claims, must have been conceded by you to them."

"I should not like to have Lady Althea for my husband's director, that is very certain." "Do you consider Lady Althea has great influence with her father?""

"Oh, yes; she rules him entirely, and although she would not suit me as a ruler, I do think she is indispensable to him. I am afraid too that she suits Lady Arabella better than I am likely ever to do; but of course I must try. She chooses all her dress for her, and is useful in many ways. One thing I find really to admire in Lady Althea, she is not self-indulgent in small things, and appears very ready to consider the comfort and convenience of her father and aunt. Indeed in many respects she is admirable; I do not wonder at any one falling in love with her while her want of principle is unknown to them. She has a fine taste, a fine appreciation of poetry, and, as appears to me, of all that is beautiful. She honours and worships what is excellent up to a certain point, that point seems to me to be her own interest or convenience."

"Have you not noticed that, though all, I suppose, would wish to be loved, there is a vast difference between desiring to be loved and desiring to love? You, I consider, most incline to the latter. You thought more of Mr. Mainwaring's being worthy of your love than of his loving you, or you would not have accepted him?"

"It does seem to me the first consideration."

"In the same way some supremely love to be admired, and some to find what is deserving their admiration. Now, desiring to be loved, though the source of much that is sweet and

pleasant in a character, is, if not held in subservience to principle, a dangerous weakness; but the desire to be admired is even less safe to indulge. This seems to be Lady Althea's predominating passion: strong feeling of any other kind might have held it in check, but I should think she never had much heart, and ten years reign as a beauty has been sufficient to overset her understanding, so that, as Mr. Merton Brown says, she is mad upon that point.'

"He told me she considered everybody ought to acknowledge her supremacy, and I must be prepared either to fall into the same opinion, or steadily to resist it. The latter he counselled as the safest course in the long run; but I must expect to have my patience and temper a good deal tried. She is a very cool hand' he said and you I am afraid--there he hesitated, which made me laugh. I said 'you are afraid I am of the same family as Grant Wainwright?' and I promised him she should not make me swear."

"I hear you had some flowers sent you. Did you find out who they came from?"

"Lady Arabella surmised that it came from one of the gentlemen I danced with at the Fête, and I suppose she was right, though I cannot think which. It came in a neat little pasteboard box by post from Marsham. The flowers were quiet fresh, and Miss French translated them for me into a profession of love. Thereupon I handed them immediately to Lady Arabella."

"Very correct of you."

"Oh, but they teased me all the same. It happened the day Mr. Brown was expected to dinner, and Miss French fixed upon him as the sender and told me I should drive him to despair at once if I did not wear one flower. Lady Althea went on too about it, but in a less disagreeable fashion. She acquiesced in Miss French's proposal that Mr. Brown before the evening was over should have an opportunity of clearing up my doubts, and they contrived to trap us into the conservatory and leave us alone together. However, I had spoken about the flowers when he first arrived. I told him at once that as he was the only gentleman Miss French knew was acquainted with me, it behoved him to defend himselffrom the imputation. You can fancy how he took the matter, with perfect good-humour and self-possession; and he did not let it deter him from being very kind and attentive to me throughout the evening. Miss French I believe had only suggested the idea to tease me, but I think ended in really suspecting something more than friendship existed between us. As I expected, our entry into the drawing-room from the conservatory was the signal for one of her quizzical attacks on me. Mr. Brown turned it entirely on himself, so I had only to look on and laugh. He was provokingly grateful to Miss French for her endeavours to convert him into a devotee in particular' as he called it instead of a general admirer. Then, pretending there were some

dozen or more gentlemen who were eager to devote their services to me, he said he would endeavour to unite them, if I would only assign to them some task worthy of high emprise. Miss French suggested to me to charge them to extirpate the Black Band, and I could not help smiling as I said that task had already been successfully commenced. Indeed?' said Miss French, but do you mean by one of your knights? Have you really done anything that way Mr. Brown ?" "

"He knew who it was, for I had spoken about the affair at the sea-gate as we were riding to the Castle. So he laughed as he denied it. I could not help glancing at him, and laughed too; and to make matters worse the colour mounted into my face. Miss French was puzzled in right earnest. Lady Althea professed she could not imagine what we were laughing at, but I think she could; and then Lord Cardington, who we thought had fallen asleep, cried out suddenly, The fellow deserved hanging,' which did not make us laugh any the less. Miss French, after looking in vain to Lady Althea for an explanation questtioned, What fellow, my lord?' Lord Carding. ton answered, "The fellow Arden drove out of my park for breaking the fence and insulting Miss Dalziel. He's got fourteen years for it, that's a comfort.'

"Poor Miss French was still in a mist. I suppose she thought the sentence quite severe enough for such offences. Lady Althea at last condescended to throw light on the matter by saying, 'Ah, I understand. The man Papa means was mentioned by Arden to the police in attendance here on the day of the Archery Fête, and he proved to have been concerned in a robbery at York.'

"And was he one of the black band? Miss French asked.

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I replied that he was one of the men who had entered Darliston Hall. Thereupon she said 'oh I beg your pardon. It did not occur to me to think of Mr Mainwaring as one of your humble servants.' There was a tone of spite in this speech, and Mr. Merton Brown answered for me, You were not then present, I presume, at the Archery contest or you would have seen Arden Mainwaring laying his trophies at the feet of this young lady.' She murmured something about having thought too slightly of the circumstance for it to have dwelt on her memory."

"Was Lady Arabella present?"

No; she had retired to her room. She seldom sat up long after dinner."

"Now tell me what sort of news you had from Vienna."

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My letter was short, but Mr. Mainwaring sent it in a long one to his mother, and told me he supposed she would read most part of it to me. She did not do so, but told me he was being made much of, and going to two or three parties in a night. So, if he is well and merry, I must be satisfied."

She did not look otherwise, and I was about

to proceed to further questionings, when a shrill whistle came borne on the air from the Darliston side of the rocks. It was a signal to Helen that her grandfather had returned; and she started to her feet, collected the stockings into her basket, and bade me a hurried good-bye; desiring I would take charge of the key of the croft-gate, as I could restore it when we met next morning on leaving church.

CHAP. XXIX.

MISS LAURA AINSLIE DETERMINES SOMETHING MUST BE DONE; AND MRS. GAINSBOROUGH, SETTING ABOUT IT, FINDS IN THAT MUCH-ABUSED MR, WITHAM AN ACTIVE COADJUTOR.

On the afternoon of Tuesday I was sitting at my window with my work, expecting to see Helen pass on her return from Tudfield, when two other equestrians drew up at my gate, and I recognized Mr.Littington and Miss Laura Ainslie. When they were in my parlour, Mr. Littington entered on the object of their visit, thus"This young lady has had her nerves not a little shaken, by an incident of rather a distressing nature, and came to me this morning complaining of a sleepless night, and a mind which could find no rest until something was done by somebody; and although I tell her it is not our affair, and neither is it yours, she has perseveredinurging me to give you an account of the matter. Certainly, if anything can be done, you are more likely than myself to know the best way of doing it, for I am almost a stranger to the person concerned."

"Who is that?" I asked.

"Oh," said Laura, "it is that young Mr. Merrivale who was here. I am so sorry, now, that I said anything to him about her, but I did not know, at least I did not think, there was anything so serious in it. I thought, of course, if he admired Lady Althea, it was just as I did." I had had some uneasiness about Alfred for the last day or two, having heard from Helen that he had been at Cardington Castle frequently, and was engaged on a portrait of her fair and coquettish ladyship. I knew, too, that she had chosen to beguile the time of her sitting with reading poetry to the young artist; but I hardly apprehended that the case was so serious as it now appeared.

Laura narrated that, having the privilege of helping herself to any books she pleased from the library at Cardington Castle, she had gone there the day before, and, entering with the housekeeper, had found Alfred Merrivale extended on the floor in a fainting-fit. He had proceeded with the accessories of the portrait during the morning, but must have been reading at the time, his pallet being on the table, and a book, containing a play called "Love," having fallen beside him on the floor.

"The story," said Laura, "is about a Rus

sian serf falling in love with a countess; and she overlooks his origin in the nobility of his character, and marries him. It is a beautiful play, but certainly ought never to have fallen into his hands. Poor fellow! I tried, of course, when he recovered, to make as light of the circumstances as I could; but the housekeeper was more outspoken. She promised me, however, that she would not talk about the matter. What she gave him did him some good; but he was hardly fit to walk home. I cannot think what ought to be done for the poor boy : something ought, I am sure."

She looked from one to the other, and I saw was really distressed, and most anxious we should devise something.

"Laura thinks," said Mr. Littington, "that there would be no good done by mentioning the matter to his mother or sisters."

"O no," said Laura, quickly; "they would give him more blame than comfort. A friend of mine knows the family, and she says Alfred is not at all understood by them. I think, myself, he is an ugly duckling'-I mean, like the one in that beautiful little story of Andersen's: he was abused by all, you know, but proved to be a swan when he grew up!"

"I think, myself, they do not understand him," I observed; "and, without meaning positive unkindness, they might do him great injustice."

"What is your own opinion of the youth?" Mr. Litttingon asked. "Is there any industry

in him?"

"That depends upon the question of what he ought to be doing. His mother considers he is wanting in industry because he has not settled down to farming; neither would he accept a place in an accountant's office which a relation offered him. I think, in the line of work he had chosen, he must have worked well, for he can have had but few advantages, I fear, though hitherto he has not been able to earn anything."

Mr. Littington shook his head-" A young fellow circumstanced as he is ought to think it his first duty to earn his living. I hear his father was much liked and respected; but, though everybody says he was clever, and very good-hearted, it is known he died leaving his family in difficulties. I have been told this boy was his favourite, and I suppose, like many another foolish lad who fancies he is a genius, he thinks he ought to be exempt from earning his daily bread.”

"Now, uncle," said Laura, in her quick way, "is it fair of you to judge him so? Look at young Cotingdean; he is not half so clever as Mr. Alfred Merrivale; and all his family are so proud of him they are going to Italy on purpose to facilitate his studies."

"The case is quite different, Laura. The Cotingdeans are independent; but, granting even that some sacrifices are made by them, a sacrifice is what no young man has a right to claim. He may sacrifice what is his own. I can commend a man who, from a confidence