6

May God bless and help you, my dear,' said Miss Mohun, with a parting kiss.

Gillian had not spoken all the time; but outside she said—

Oh, Aunt! is this my doing?'

'Not quite,' said Aunt Jane kindly. 'There were other causes.' Oh, if I could do anything!'

'Alas! it is easier to do than to undo.'

Aunt Jane was really kind, and Gillian was grateful; but oh, how she longed for her mother!

There was no better news the next morning. Nothing had been heard of Alexis, and nothing would persuade his mother in her half-delirious, and wholly unreasonable, state that he had not been sent to prison, and that they were keeping it from her. She was exceedingly ill, and Kalliope had been up all night with her.

Such was the report in a note sent up by Mrs. Lee by one of the little boys early in the morning, and, as soon as she could reasonably do so, Miss Mohun carried the report to Lord Rotherwood, whom she found much better, and anxious to renew the tour of inspection which had been interrupted.

Before long, Mr. White was shown in, intending to resume the business discussion, and Miss Mohun was about to retreat with Lady Rotherwood, when her cousin, taking pity on her anxiety, said—

'If you will excuse me for speaking about your family matters, Mr. White, my cousin knows these young people well, and I should like you to hear what she has been telling me.'

'A gentleman has just been calling on me about them,' said Mr. White, not over-graciously.

Mr. Flight?' asked Jane anxiously.

Yes; a young clergyman, just what we used to call Puseyite when I left England; but that name seems to be gone out now.'

'Any way,' said Jane, 'I am sure he had nothing but good to say of Miss White, or indeed of her brother; and I am afraid the poor mother is very ill.'

'That's true, Miss Mohun; but you see there may be one side to a lady, or a parson, and another to a practical man like my partner. Not but that I should be willing enough to do anything in reason for poor Dick's widow and children, but not to keep them in idleness, or letting them think themselves too good to work.'

That I am sure these two do not. Their earnings quite keep the family. I know no one who works harder than Miss White, between her business, her lodgers, the children, and her helpless mother.'

'I saw her mosaics-very fair, very clever, some of them; but I'm afraid she is a sad little flirt, Miss Mohun.'

'Mr. White,' said Lord Rotherwood, 'did ever you hear of a poor girl beset by an unfortunate youth, but his family thought it was all her fault?'

'If Mr. White would see her,' said Jane, he would understand at

a glance that the attraction is perfectly involuntary; and I know from other sources how persistently she has avoided young Stebbing; giving up Sunday walks to prevent meeting him, accepting nothing from him, always avoiding tête-à-têtes.'

'Hum! But tell me this, madam,' said Mr. White eagerly, 'how is it that if these young folks are so steady and diligent as you would make out, that eldest brother writes to me every few months for help to support them?'

'Oh!' Jane breathed out; then, rallying, 'I know nothing about that eldest. Yes, I do though! His sister told my niece that all the rents of the three houses went to enable Richard to appear as he ought at the solicitor's office at Leeds.'

There's a screw loose somewhere plainly,' said Lord Rotherwood. The question is, where it is,' said Mr. White.

And all I hope,' said Jane, is that Mr. White will judge for himself when he has seen Kalliope, and made inquiries all round. I do not say anything for the mother, poor thing, except that she is exceedingly ill just now, but I do thoroughly believe in the daughter.'

'And this runaway scamp, Miss Mohun?'

'I am afraid he is a runaway; but I am quite sure he is no scamp," said Jane.

'Only so clever as to be foolish, eh?' said the Marquis, rather provokingly.

'Exactly so,' she answered; and I am certain that if Mr. White will trust to his own eyes and his own inquiries, he will find that I am right.'

She knew she ought to go, and Lord Rotherwood told her afterwards, That was not an ill-aimed shaft, Jane. Stebbing got more than one snub over the survey. I see that. White is getting the notion that there's a system of hoodwinking going on, and of not letting him alone, and he is not the man to stand that.'

If he only would call on Kalliope!'

I suspect he is afraid of being beguiled by such a fascinating young woman.'

It was a grievous feature in the case to Gillian that she could really do nothing. Mrs. White was so ill that going to see Kalliope was of no use, and Maura was of an age to be made useful at home; and there were features in the affair that rendered it inexpedient for Gillian to speak of it except in the strictest confidence to Aunt Jane or Mysie. It was as if she had touched a great engine, and it was grinding and clashing away above her while she could do nothing to stay its course.

(To be continued.)

DAGMAR.

BY HELEN SHIPTON, AUTHOR OF CAIRNFORTH,' etc.

CHAPTER X.

'On revient toujours.'

'As for me, I went my way,

And a better man drew nigh,

Fain to earn, with long essay,

What the winner's hand threw by.'

Ir was plain that after this Maurice intended to take himself into his own hands, and not to be treated as an invalid much longer. On Dick's being commissioned to find out what the doctor had said about his getting up the next day, that youth returned with the answer that Maurice had not asked him, and didn't mean to. And when the gong sounded for luncheon, the gentleman himself walked in, as composedly as if he had been down every day for a month. The change in him was even more apparent by daylight than it had been the night before, but it was evident that he did not care to have it noticed, and that he meant to take his own way. All the family knew well by that time that there was a point beyond which Maurice ceased be complaisant, and became obstinacy itself, and they resigned themselves to the inevitable. It was understood from that day forth that the household fell back into its usual habits, and that Maurice shared in them; only for a few days those habits were remarkably quiet, and somebody always happened to be in the way when Maurice moved up or down stairs, or came from room to room.

No one could possibly be more gentle and grateful than he was; yet after a while it seemed as if he were trying to draw back into his shell again-as if he would not suffer himself to be again betrayed into the glad, affectionate familiarity that he had shown on his first appearance downstairs.

He seemed to grow more out of spirits as he grew stronger; and long before he was really strong again, he grieved Mrs. Tyndal by insisting on going back to his own lonely house.

It could hardly be that he was afraid of giving trouble, for every one who knew Mrs. Tyndal knew that it was impossible to trouble her, and that the more she could do for any one the better she was pleased. But Maurice, who knew it as well as any one, only thanked her very earnestly and very regretfully for all her goodness to him,

turned a deaf ear to her gentle persuasions and the Squire's reproaches, and went back to the Court.

He had hardly seen Dagmar alone since that first night, and had made no attempt to speak to her in private. Perhaps his eyes spoke to her constantly a language of their own; but how far she understood it was impossible to say.

Her manner to him was full of a delicate self-restraint. She did not snub him, as she had always snubbed poor Tom Pointer and every other man (of less than twenty years older than herself) who had ever ventured to imply that he admired her. Nor did she give him one word or look that might be taken for encouragement. Her behaviour was exactly that of one of the heroines of chivalry towards the knight whose quest is undertaken but not yet fulfilled. She must be strictly neutral: not too cold, lest she should crush a future hero; not too gracious, lest a possible coward should enjoy her favours. Raymond lingered till Maurice was gone, aware that his turn would not come till then. He had too much sense to be jealous of the attention that Maurice had met with, but he knew the disadvantage under which he himself laboured in not having been at death's door lately, and he was not going to speak until he was once more the most important person in the house.

When Maurice had taken his departure, he set himself most attentively to fill up any blank that Dagmar might feel, but he would have been better pleased if she had not been quite so ready to turn over his company to her father.

'It is her fault that I am not more in love with her,' he said to himself, half angrily. If she would be as charming as she knows how to be, I should be in love with her directly. Well, it is no good laying a seven years' siege to her, as they used to do of old. Life is not long enough for that nowadays. I shall try to take her by storm, and if it comes to nothing, it will only be of a piece with the rest.'

That was true enough; but it is a question whether Raymond would have stated it to himself with such brutal frankness if he had not been annoyed by the sight of Agnes and Mr. Layton pacing up and down the garden together in earnest consultation.

Nevertheless, he was not yet quite without hope, and he made his manner as significant as he dared during the next few days.

Even Day, he thought, could hardly fail to understand him; and it was with a curious mingling of triumph and dismay that he found at last the opportunity he wanted. The Squire and Mrs. Tyndal were gone out driving, and Agnes with them, and he learnt by accident that Day was intending to ride over to Shardbrook again to inquire after little Janie. He asked leave to go with her, and she, after a moment's consideration, agreed.

An impetuous young lover would have begun to lead the conversation towards the desired point before they were well through the

drive gates, but Raymond, being neither young nor impetuous, was prepared for all possible contingencies.

Suppose she gave him a point-blank No,' a long ride together would be awkward to the last degree. If she gave-as was now more likely-such an answer as would imply that there was a possibility of her being won upon some future occasion, it would be still more embarrassing, if possible.

So Raymond talked only of general matters, and not much of them, till they had reached Shardbrook. He strolled up and down while Dagmar went in to see her little friend, and when she came out again, he was vexed to see tears in her eyes.

He was not particularly cold-hearted, and he was quite capable of being sorry for poor little Janie Simpson; but it did seem to him very inopportune that she should happen to be dying just then, and that Day's mind should thus be full of thoughts so different from those which he had wished her to entertain.

Not feeling really sympathetic, he dared not attempt to sympathise, lest he should say the wrong thing, but merely rode on silently by Dagmar's side, waiting till she should have quite recovered herself.

There were a great many ash-trees along that winding lane from Shardbrook to Winstead, and they had, as usual, cast all their leaves, as if in petulance at the first touch of winter, and stood up bare and gaunt as if it had been December.

The horses' feet rustled amongst the drifts of dead leaves, and the faint odour of their decay crept upward on the chill, creeping breeze. Right before the riders a misty sunset was fading behind the autumn woods, softening away into pale yellow and pearly tints that suggested an unutterable melancholy.

Raymond found himself half unconsciously repeating the refrain of one of Shakespeare's songs, Young lovers love the spring.' And then he said to himself, with his ceaseless babit of introspection and self-mockery, that perhaps it was as well that it was not now the spring.

'Day,' he said at last, seeing that she had begun to sit more erect in her saddle, and look up and around her, 'I wonder if you know, or could guess, what I should like to say to you?'

And to himself he said, 'We are not more than a mile from Winstead. If she says "No," we can be home in less than ten minutes. I don't think I have allowed too long.'

I have something to say to you,' she answered rather abruptly, after an instant's pause. I let you come with me to-day on purpose that I might say it.'

She paused again, then turned slightly, looking at him with grave, kindly eyes, that seemed somehow to reverse the difference in their ages, so wise and almost motherly they seemed.

Raymond, I am going to be very impertinent. But you have always been so good to me, from the time that I was a tiny thing