family to belong to, nothing and no one to whom I could devote myself! Oh, what should I, what could I do?

Thinking of this, tears came again; but I was too much astonished, excited, and bewildered for weeping to last long. Thoughts began to crowd upon me: the perplexity of too much liberty made wild work with my pulses; that standing alone, and yet being obliged, as it were, to set off and walk instantly in some direction or other, tore my mind with conflicting emotions. I was like a person deserted on a wide common of green grass, with no paths and no object in sight, and yet the certainty that it must be traversed ere any place of shelter could be found.

Kneeling down, I tried to pray, but my mind was confused, and became more so every moment; but I was alive to what passed, for I heard the lunch-bell ring, and thinking that it would be easier for me to meet the family in the garden than at table, I put on my bonnet, took my parasol, and ran down the back staircase, and through the court-yard, into the shrubbery, from whence I emerged, and approached the group as quietly as I could.

Something in the manner of more than one

made me think that the contents of my letter were known. They did not cease to talk, and took no direct notice of me, but allowed me to mingle with them till, gradually and quite naturally, I became involved in the discussion which was going on, and we all walked in to luncheon together. But here my desired self-possession gave way. Liz said, in a sympathising tone, "Come, and sit by me, dear." "No, I say that's a shame!" exclaimed Valentine;"this is her place. Sit by me, D. dear."

Whereupon I found myself, before I knew what I was about, hurrying away from the table, sobbing, and covering my face with my hands. I heard Giles say, "You stupid fellow!" to Valentine; I heard Mrs. Henfrey scold somebody else; and in a minute or two, without knowing exactly how I got there, I found myself standing in the smoking-room, shivering, and declaring that I was determined not to faint-I could help it, I was sure, and I would.

66

"Never mind if you do, dear," began Valentine; we shall not think it at all silly of you."

"Be quiet!" whispered Mr. Brandon: "that's

not the style of thing to say! Now, Miss Graham, sit by the window. Here is water. Hold it to her lips, Val. You wish to command yourself, of course?"

"Of course!" I repeated.

"And you are better already. See, here is your maid!"

I now first observed that I was entirely abandoned by the female part of the family, and this did a great deal to restore me; far more than Mrs. Brand did, though I was straightway left for her to do her best with me.

I could soon walk upstairs, and oblige myself to eat and drink. I had a sort of notion that it was humiliating to be hysterical, or, at least, a sign of weakness, in which the mind bore its part as well as the frame, so I struggled against my sensations with such vigour as I believe helped to keep them off.

"Ah!" said Mrs. Brand, when she came in with some jelly, "what tender-hearted ladies these are, to be sure! Miss Grant as near as possible went off into hysterics when you turned faint; and Miss Elizabeth, when I asked if she would like to come and sit with you, was all of a tremble, and said she coudn't on any account."

I stayed in my room all that day, and performed what I found the rather difficult task of telling Mrs. Brand the contents of my uncle's letter.

Mrs. Brand was more philosophical over my troubles than she usually was over her own. "It was a disappointment, certainly; but, dear me, people had disappointments in this world, and must look to have them, ma'am."

At night, when I was going to bed, she remarked that she supposed I could spare her in a day or two. I said "Yes;" and being by this means brought to some practical thoughts, I found myself better during the evening. I had exhausted myself with crying over my lost home, and now, weary and sick at heart, I fell sound asleep, and woke in the morning quite well in health, and able to consider what I should do.

I have often thought that when some trial or disappointment is inevitable, settled, and not to be stirred by anything that those can do who have to bear it, one of the chief sources of its power is removed. It is what we think might possibly have been otherwise if we had done otherwise; what might now be possibly

removed if we only knew how to remove it; what is doubtful as to results; what is complicated with uncertainties and calls for action on our part, while yet we cannot decide what that action should be; what calls for discretion and demands vigilance, which can harass the mind and most effectually destroy its peace. None of these advantages beset my trouble, and the only circumstance which might have been altered if I had had time to plead for it, was that I might have been able to take leave of Tom and my uncle, which I now found they did not wish me to do, for my uncle had not mentioned to me what port he should touch at, to take Mrs. Brand on board; and when I questioned her, I found that she had received her own instructions, and knew in what direction to proceed, though I knew nothing. I was aware how much they both dreaded scenes, so I easily understood the motive for this reserve.

Mrs. Henfrey very kindly came into my room before I went down next morning. She kissed me, and said they knew that I had now to fix upon a home, and Mr. Mortimer hoped I would not think of leaving his house for at least a fortnight. Having now no wishes to