Did Mr. Stanley divine the meaning of this sudden resolution? Was it design or was it forgetfulness that he made no enquiries for Nesta, although that morning, contrary to her usual habit, she did not appear? Mrs. Stanley was down, and she poured out the coffee, an office that rarely fell to her; but Nesta's absence caused a blank, and though her name was not mentioned, it could scarcely have been because she was forgotten. Harry saw the butter brought in; the servant placed it without remark upon the table, and Newton, perhaps, was the only person in the room who associated it with Nesta. He knew then that Nesta had returned home, and his thoughts were very far from being with the party at the breakfast table.

There were loud lamentations that Newton should be leaving so speedily. Mrs. Stanley echoed her children's regrets in her usual soft voice. And I shall have no one now to sail my boat with me,' said Dick.

'You shall go down to the pond with Babette,' mildly interposed Mrs. Stanley.

"Once for all, Dick, there's to be no going down alone,' said his father; 'you remember that.'

'No, papa; I promise.'

'He'll be after some mischief as sure as

6

possible,' said Mr. Stanley. Had you not better, Dick, put the boat in my room, and then I will take you down some day?'

Dick assented, and running into his father's room, he stood on a chair and placed his precious boat on the top of the drawers.

Breakfast was over, and the party separated. Newton and Mr. Stanley walked to the Mill; neither seemed much inclined for 'conversation, and there was an effort apparent in all they said. Again and again Newton was on the point of acquainting Mr. Stanley with his feelings towards Nesta, and of that morning's interview, but every time the conversation seemed even remotely to refer to her there was an evident endeavour

to turn the subject. Newton could not help thinking that Mr. Stanley guessed it all, and was well aware of his reason for returning to England.

Mässinger was at the mill and Heinrich with him, and Frau Mässinger was in the bakehouse, making bread for the familyhuge loaves, large and black and heavy. Rosa was in the act of removing two from the oven, and was about to place two others in their stead. Mr. Stanley did not go in with Newton, but walked up the valley smoking his cigar until Newton should join him again; he was not in the mood this morning to meet Frau Mässinger's jokes, and the old miller's sour wine possessed small attraction for him.

So Newton went in alone, at an evil hour for poor Rosa, who was just enduring one of Frau Mässinger's outbursts of wrath for some imagined delinquency. Rosa's eyes were red, and the dark rims round them were darker than ever, and the face that was raised to Newton was very pale indeed.

Newton felt sorry for the pretty little girl; the sense of his own trouble seemed to link him the more closely to all in sorrow, that great bond that knits each to other in the great human family. As Frau Mässinger went to call her husband, he walked towards her and said, in a low kind voice, 'What is the matter? She has a good heart, in spite of her rough words. How goes it with Heinrich ?'

The mention of his name unlocked the fountain of sorrow. She sat down on a stool in the bakehouse, and, putting up her

apron, sobbed as if her heart would break.

Ach, Heinrich!' she broke out at last,' he no longer cares for me. I made him reproaches, because he neglected me before others, and was only good to me in secret; and I told him I didn't want anyone to marry me who was ashamed of me. I was angry, but he made me so. I hate the whole world; I should like to die-what's the good of my living? I want to go to mother.'

Newton's sorrow had not made him hate the world; but it had come to him in another form; he was not neglected, he was not slighted; nay, even with Nesta's refusal, there had come upon him a certainty of her love, and this certainty was the gleam of light that was to brighten his whole life.

But before he could make any reply, Frau Mässinger emerged from the mill doorway with her husband and son, and the current of his thoughts was diverted into another channel. He told them that he had come to say good-bye, and that he must be off at once, as Mr. Stanley was waiting for him in the lane. It was in vain that Herr Mässinger proffered a glass of Auslese; Newton was not to be induced to prolong his visit; he had no wish for a conversation with the old man that morning, and he was in a hurry to conclude the interview. He thought Heinrich looked more grave and serious than usual, and he caught his eye,

I 2