"Thank you very much," Kitty said. "I may at some future time be very glad to remember your kind promise."

She said this thinking of poor Perry, and wondering whether the baron would not buy pictures of him some day.

"Will you, too, remember the first pleasant days we spent together at Malaga ?" he asked.

"Oh! what does it matter?" she answered, echoing his words somewhat bitterly; and then he opened the gate for her, and not a word more was said till they joined Ella.

As soon as she could get away, Kitty stole into a quiet garden-nook, and thought over the events of the last hour. At first there was a smile on her lips and an elation in her whole aspect; but, by and by, the smile faded, and her look became first subdued, and by little and little, almost stern.

She felt very angry with the baron, and did not seek to excuse herself for the feeling. He had undoubtedly done what was upright, and dignified, and manly: but his way of doing it affronted her. It was the man's way of doing a thing, she said to herself-cold, straightforward, unflinching. The woman's way seemed best to her, just a little shilly-shallying, a little sentimental, a little kind. Had the tables been turned, and the verdict of farewell come from her own lips instead of his, how differently it would have been worded! When she was forced to tell painful truths to Dr Norman and Perry, had she not sweetened them with tenderness, as children's physic is sweetened with sugar? The baron administered his physic without caring how it tasted to her palate, and she owned that it was very bitter. Truth to tell, our poor Kitty saw such a future of commonplaces stretching before her, that she would fain have enjoyed a little romance ere it should have become forbidden fruit for ever.

And her vanity was somewhat hurt. Having said thus much, it surely behoved the baron to say a little more. If he could not be her lover, and dared not be her friend, he should at least have taken the trouble to find out in which light he was most acceptable. His conduct augured-at least to a mind like Kitty's, always too ready to gloss over the unpleasant side of things with plausibilities-hardness as well as coldness. Did

he think that she cared for him, or did he not? In the first place it was his duty to be kind; in the second, to have kept his counsel. As it was he had spoken out, relieving his own mind, but undoubtedly disturbing the peace of her own.

She grew very angry as she pondered over the matter. It would have been such a triumph to let Sir George find the baron at her feet on his return! Of course, she should have behaved in a firm and proper manner, cleaving to the old love, and not putting off with the new; for Miss Kitty always persuaded herself that she had done the right thing in the past, and would do the right thing in the future; but such a lesson must have been most salutary to her too confident and easy lover. Sir George knew right well how dearly she loved and prized his title; had not the baron a title, and decorations of half the Courts of Europe besides ?

But he had gone, and she determined to drive the mortification of his going from her mind, and give it up to realities only. They were not all pleasant.

She knew well enough that she could shield herself from Ella's anger; but she felt sure that Ella would be vexed at the onset. What daughter ever approved of her father's marriage? What only daughter ever willingly made way for a stepmother? True, Kitty was determined to be all humility where her rights, as mistress of Sir George's house, were concerned. True, she was firmly resolved to go on as she had begun, sacrificing everything to Ella's slightest wish. But perhaps Ella would object to accept such sacrifices under their new relationship. Ella was the most unselfish being Kitty had ever known; yet she doubted the issue of the forthcoming ordeal.

If Ella welcomed the change that would fix her friend irrevocably by her side, all would be well. The wedding clothes need not occupy much time; the wedding could as easily take place at Malaga as anywhere else; she might become Lady Bartelotte in a few months-why not in a few weeks?

That thought was a salve to her wounded spirit. Whatever happened, she was to be Lady Bartelotte, and when that happy consummation arrived, she should taste of peace, and rest, and the contentment that knows no ambition. There would no

longer be any need for her to scheme, and ponder, and weave in loneliness the webs of Fate.

At least, so she assured herself, and, putting on a blithe aspect, went straight to Ella, first to tell her of the baron's strange confession, and the next of her father's offer of marriage. Surely a stranger errand than the last had never been entrusted to any woman!

CHAPTER LII.

HOW KITTY PLEADED FOR HER LOVER.

ELLA heard the first story complacently enough. She was angry with the baron for having ruffled her friend's feelings, and quite agreed with Kitty that in love-making, half measures were inadmissible; and that a man who was not permitted by circumstances to make a proposal of marriage, was certainly not permitted by etiquette to make a declaration of love. But she could not conceal a certain amount of self-congratulation that all imminent danger of losing her darling was over.

"I do wish you to marry one day," she said, apologetically. "I am not selfish enough to hope for a moment that of all your lovers none shall win you and make you happy. But there is time enough yet, and we are very happy as we are." "Very happy," Kitty said, and sighed.

Ella looked up anxiously.

"What else has happened?" she asked, laying one little hand on her friend's arm.

"O Ella! you would never guess."

"You are not unhappy? You did not love that man, dearest?" Ella cried, brimful of affectionate concern. Kitty shook her head.

"You have not made up your mind that you care for Mr Perugino, after all ".

"No-oh, no!"

"The traitorous Tyrrell has not made you an offer?" said Ella, blushing as she spoke, for she and Mr Tyrrell had ever been the best of friends.

Again Kitty shook her head; and at last, being urgently pressed by her friend to confide her secret, she said, with almost a childish expression of dismay—

"Sir George wants me to marry him-if you don't mind." This piece of information at first affected Ella in a wholly unexpected way. We have heard of earthquakes and other sudden convulsions of nature, or shocks of any kind acting magnetically upon chronic diseases, whether mental or physical; and such was the effect of Kitty's disclosure upon Ella.

She forgot that since her last severe attack of illness at Arcachon she had never risen from her couch unassisted; she forgot that even moderate laughter was almost sure to bring on a fit of coughing; she forgot everything in comic amazement, jumping from her seat, walking up and down the room laughing the loud enjoying laugh of a robust person.

MA

"Oh, that is delicious!" she cried; and, when her first ebullition of amusement was over, she sat down by Kitty's side and begged to be told all about it.

"But you will be tired. on the sofa," Kitty urged. ing where she was.

Do let me make you comfortable Ella, however, persisted in remain

"I am too impatient," she said, "and I do believe that papa's proposals to you have cured all my aches and pains for months to come. But we must soon put these romantic ideas out of his head, my dear."

Kitty looked a little shocked at Ella's levity.

"It is no laughing matter, I assure you," she said, with great seriousness. "I suppose it is difficult for you to look upon Sir George in the same light as other people do. But he is no older than Dr Norman, and you saw no absurdity in Dr Norman's attachment for me."

“That is quite another thing," Ella answered, gravely comic. "Dr Norman is not my father."

Dr

“But the circumstances were in a measure similar. Norman's eldest son was as old as you are," Kitty continued, "and people fall in love irrespective of circumstances."

"You have not fallen in love with papa, have you?" Ella asked, with another outburst of genuine laughter. “My dear,

I adore you, but I couldn't endure a stepmother-I couldn't indeed."

"Do be serious for five minutes," Kitty said, still as grave as a judge.

"I can't be serious where papa's love-affairs are concerned. How can I?" asked Ella. "He is quite unlike other people, and I know him so well,-dear, good, fidgety papa! What glamour have you cast over his eyes to work this mischief?" "O Ella! as if I ever dreamed that such a thing was going to happen."

"Dear Kitty, I only spoke in jest. It is so much better that we treat the matter as a joke. It is, indeed."

"Sir George would never forgive me if I so treated it," Kitty answered.

Seeing that there was no prospect of coming to any conclusion whilst she persisted in her sportive mood, Ella returned to her sofa, and declared herself penitent, and willing to be good and tractable for the term of Kitty's good pleasure.

"Nothing could have happened so embarrassing," Kitty began, "and you will readily believe me when I say, so unexpected. You have seen all along how frank and friendly has been the intercourse between Sir George and myself, and how little I dreamed that it would ever change. But the mischief is done past cure"

"We won't say so," Ella interposed, cheerfully, "Papa loves me too dearly, and has too much friendship for yourself, to be incapable of making a sacrifice for us. He must see things in the proper light ere very long."

Kitty shook her head.

"Indeed, Ella dear, I speak without exaggeration when I say that the mischief is done past cure." Then she added, with emphasis, "I am sure that Sir George's liking for me is no passing fancy. I am sure that I shall not be able to stay under your roof, unless as Sir George's wife. Would that, for your sake, this were not the truth."

"O Kitty! it cannot, cannot be the truth! I will not, I dare not believe it. We are both in a nightmare, from which we shall wake soon,"