BROWNIES' TRIUMPH.

New Zealand Herald, Volume XVIII, Issue 5997, 5 February 1881, Page 2

BROWNIES' TRIUMPH.

BY MRS. GEORGE SHELDON. Author of "Tha Forsaken ISride, "Sybils

CHAPTER XXXVn. brownie's little charge. Buownie was exceedingly anxious that iiuly Ruxley should be informed of her happiness ami safety, and would have hastened at once to Vallingham Hall to relieve her anxiety; - but Adrian insisted that they would be constantly receiving callers, and after sending their cards abroad as he had done, it vonlil not do to run away ; besides, he was desirous that she should see more of the great metropolis and mingle in its gaieties for awhile. But lie suggested she sisonM write. So Brownie wrote her ladyship an affectionate letter, telling her of her marria.e, ami that she would come to see her just as soon γ-s possible, and explain everything. Jfeauwhile she requested that she would keep her secret from the liaiulnb and Coolidges r.ntil she saw her. Tin's duty accomplished, she gave heiielf up heartily to all the pleasures which Adrian planned for her. ; Her spirits, which -had been somewhat subdued by that dreadful experience at Valliiijliam Hall, rose with every day; she bloomed into such surpassing beauty tli.it no one who looked into her glowing face could doubt that the world was at its brightest with her. How strange it is that in the midst of our happiest momenta dark clouds should hang over us, as if, jealous of our joy, they are eager to enwrap ns in their gloom. So it was with the fair young bride. One day, xipoii returning iicni a stroll in Regent's Park, they had almps» reached Portland Hace wheu,their-attentior.-n-as suddenly scream; and then by the ili«tt rdssiiig cries **f a child.' '- f ~ yui-r - — *"* tlip., epnnd. proceeded, - s l * l * .Ml v. standing■;by:,tbe;rMvei v, s brink, had disl«- ", peaiiftfrOmsight, while the child of whom ait had had charge was reaching ont its hands towards the river, and screaming at.the t<p of its lungs. , -c i The young husband and wite hastened to the snot, an 3 saw-that the woman h ad fa] Jen from'tho bank and was lying motionless at the bottom of the strew n. _ to A e e^ i& tO n gath place, but to nifhg - hIS !wrd* niation» -,m««+i,. *"' ittleM««;oreag l -iev e d,di s t r " tfi « t .anfiUis

Brownie removed him to a little distance, and soon aucceeded in quieting him with, her ■fond, sweet words.The woman continued insensible, and as they could gain no clue to her identity, Adrian, fearing she had been seriously injured in falling began to wonder what, would be best to do with her. A policeman now appeared, and advised that she be taken to some hospital, and deeming this the wisest course to pursue, the youn" man gave directions that she be taken to St. George's, it being the finest one in the city. " But what will become of the child ?" he asked, in perplexity, as he saw it in Brownie's "Take him to the station-house until called for," some one said, heartlessly. "Oh. no!" exclaimed Brownie, with an appealing, terrified look at her husband, vyhile the child, frightened at being so curiously regarded, threw his little arms around her neck and hid his face upon her shoulder. She clasped him to her with a sudden •thrill. "Let us keep him until his parents come to claim him," she said, in a low tone to her husband. "Bnt, dearest, it will never do for you to have the care of him," he returned, disapprovingly. li Ah, Adrian, he is such a darling, I should like it. Milly will assist in the care of him, and, in all probability, his parents will claim him hy to-morrow." "That is true," he said, hesitatingly. "I know he will be content with me, and that I shall treat him tenderly. Dear, I -cannot let them take him to the stationhouse," she pleaded earnestly. Adrian himself said that was not to be thought of for a moment, and being strongly attracted toward the beautiful boy, it was finallv arranged that it should be as Brownie desired, and they all returned to the Langhur.3. while the unfortunate nurse was borne ••awiy to the hospital. The littie fellow was soon as happy as a king, and although he talked of Nannie, seemed perfectly contented whenin Brownie's presence. She found, upon questioning him, that he was called Eddie, but she tried in vain to make him repeat his last name. Evidently lie had-not been taught it. This next morning Adrian went early to the hospital, hoping the nurse would be able . to converse with him, and give him information regarding her little charge; but he foun 1 her raving in delirium, and the doctors said she had doubtless been seriously injured about the head in falling, and they were fearful that the accident would cost her her life. Onlv one thing remained to be done now, ami that was to advertise the child _in the papers,' which Adrian immediately did, and theu strove quietly to await the issue. -.. Since the Tittle one would occupy her for a few day Brownie persuaded Adrian to run down to Vallingham Hall to relieve Lady Ruxley ; s suspense, and consult with her as to the best method of securiiu her jewels, and •of releasinc; Herbert Randal. It was Saturday that the accident hap-peaed,--and on Monday ho departed for West yallhi" where he found Lady Ruxley in her usual health, but feeling very lonely without her companion. She still remained at the Hall, where she -said she should stay until the folks returned from Paris, and then they might have their fraud doings to themselves and welcome. ° She had received Brownie's note the day before their departure for Paris, but she had ■carefully guarded her secret, thoroughly beKovingin her and inwardly triumphing in her good fortune. " I knew they were humbugs from the beginning," she said wrathfully, when Adrian told her about the jewels; "but," and she shook her head sadly, " it's too bad for ■Charles to be taken in so." "I sympathise with your ladyship," Adrian returned. "But let us hope, that he may have his eyes opened before it i 3 too late." He then related Brownie's history from beginning to end, and though the old lady felt .some uncomfortable twinges of conscience upon-" learning that she was the grand-niece of that same Mehetabel Douglas who came to such grief in her own house, yet she rejoiced -over the young girl's triumph and good for-

She sniffed contemptuously when Adrian spoke of his grandfather's opposition to his marriage. " She has just as good blood in her veins as lfoyal Dunforth himself, and when he gets his eyes open, he'll be ashamed of being so .crotchety. Humph!" she went on with her irrepressible chuckle, "I told Helen she'd ■get her pay yet; and I knew that girl was treacherous. What a mongrel she is, to appropriate the poor abused thing's jewels and wear them !—and they were Meta Douglas' too ! I thought I had seen them before, but I didn't say a word, for Helen says I am always poking into other folk's affairs. And : they "hid the poor child in that wretched cell, did they ?" Her eyes glistened viciously as she said this. ■■..".

"Yc3; although I do not see how they dared do it," Adrian replied. " Sir Charles shall know of this, or my tdiiguc will be palsied belore I can tell him," slie"mattered angrily, and then demanded: '" Who did you say let her out ?" Adrian really dreaded relating this portion •of. his story,-lest the. shock should be too much for the.oldlady. He had merely mentioned the fact of Brownie's being released by some one upon the other side of the cell, but now he broke to her as gently as he could the tale of Lady K&nda-l's fearful sin in con•eealing her deformed son. The horrified woman seemed to shrivel into smaller, proportions than ever as she listened; her lips grew livid, her eyes seemed to sink into her head, and she shook like a reed. "Has she dared do this cruel thing?" she whispered hoarsely ; then added : ". . " I had given her credit during these later /years for regretting and repenting of her former wickedness and intrigues, but it seems she ia capable of almost anything. He— Herbert, did you say his name is ?" " Yes ; that was what he told my wife." ."Well, he must not remain there another hour—it is too horrible?" She insisted upon going immediately to the .young man, asking Adrian to accompany her.

■-■'. He was only too glad to do so, that he might tender his thanks to the poor cripple for his kindness to his darling. : Ladyßnxley appeared to know the way perfectly, for passing through Isabel's room she unbolted the door of the cell and groped her way to the opposite side. As she stepped upon the semi-circular " Mock of stone, she explained the secret to Adrian, and bidding him follow her she pressed her foot upon the bolt and disappeared. As soon as the shaft arose to its place, he . followed immediately and soon fonnd himself standing by her side in the room already described. : Thu young cripple was sleeping upon a touch', and had not heard them enter; but as Lady Huxley stumped toward him with her 1 one he started up and regarded his strange visitors with amazement. Lady Ruxley nearly shrieked aloud as she ■Ixilteld his terrible deformity, but quickly recovering herself she moved still nearer to to him, and exclaimed in her blunt way : ".Well, Herbert Randal, thank the Lord . that you are at last born into the world !" " Madam, are you —who are you ?" he stam- ; mered, regarding her with nearly as mnch furiosity as she did him. "I am a withered aritedeluvian, as you perceive, butthe heart within me is sound yet, and is capable of feeling for others' woes if ,ii')t for others' faults. I am Lady Ruxley, yonr mother's aunt. " I have heard of you, and Miss Douglas .'satd you were very kind," he said gently, and .■■'■.wga'nliiig her bent form with a pitying eye. "-irSi-VPid *he.?" saifl- he*iiadyship, eagerly, ■ > tt vr-y> e t' "* nir '"nps brc?ie into a pleased smile. - * was a j wve l." Jsr Mas Douglas waa ,» repoated the cripple, .catching his breath, and a look of pain crossing Ins face. * ;J " Ves was ; for she is no longer Miss Douglas, but Mrs. Dredmond, and this is her noahand," returned Lady Ruxley, introducing Adrian. Thetwo young men clasped hands, butHerhert Randal searched Adrian's face wistfully find eagerly. The result semed to be satisfactory, for the ■■] pained look passed, and he seemed to be as- •':. sured thst the youncj husband was in every way worthy of her "whom he had wedded, and who had seemed like some bright angel to him. And now there followed many questions and explanations, and a long conference, ' which resulted iu Lady Ruxley deciding that young Randal should return at once with her to the villa, where he should remain until the return of .the family from Paris, _<• when there 'will be a serious reckoning," she concluded, with a stern, bitter look. ; Herbert demurred at first, but upon being assured by Adrian that it would be best, he at , .I%* consented, upon condition that lie could ijKiuce his tutor to be party to the plan. . ; Jfjl'he tutor was summoned, and although. *tSi> muc k disturbed at this unexpected state

of things, ho was really elad at heart that for the future his pupil would know the comforts of life. Lady Ruxley assured him that his salary should be continued to him during his own and his sister's life, for the sake of the kindness which he had shown his charge during the past. So, as the matter was to be kept as quiet as possible from the servants, it was decided they should wait until evening before they made the change, when it was accomplished without exciting suspicion. Adrian remained until the next morning, when, bidding them a kind farewell, and feeling much pleased with the result of his journey, he returned to London, taking with him Brownie's trunks, a cordial invitation from Lady Ruxley to the bride to come and visit her, and also an elegant piece of Irish point laee. that would have made the eyes of half the London belles water with envy as a bridal present.

Lady Ruxley seemed to forget her own aches and pains in ministering to the comfort of her unfortunate grand-nephew ; and she found him a most entertaining companion, for he had improved his time well, and was well read upon almost every subject. His knowledge of the world, and of men and things, was wonderful, considering that he had never mingled with people, or been outside the four walls of Vallingham Hall durins; his life. She was eager for the return of Lady Randal from Paris and yet she was somewhat anxious as to what this new development would bo ; while she could not help feeling a little bit of triumph, as she thought how astonished and somewhat chagrined her amiable niece would be when she should discover that Mehetabel Douglas would be the Lady of Dunforth after all. "Anil Charles! how will lie receive his brother, I wonder !" she often thought, with some anxiety. "If he is noble and manly, as I hope he will be, my fortune shall be divided between them ; but if he should be unkind or ungenerous, then Herbert shall have every farthing!" Upon; Adrian's return to London, his young wife met him with the saddest face in the world, and threvr herself into his arms with a heartbroken cry. The beautiful child, which she had so tenderly taken to her heart in its desolation, and whom she had begun to love very dearly, was alarmingly ill —dying, she feared, from what the physician said—with that dread disease, membraneous croup.' He had been taken very suddenly, almost immediately upon Adrian's departure, and despite their tendorest care, had rapidly grown worse, until now he was wholly unconscious, and seemed sinking fast. She had heard from his nurse that morning but she was no bettter, and so no light could be obtained as to whom this beautiful little waif belonged. Adrian was extremely shocked by this distressing intelligence, and together they returned to Eddie's bedside. The- doctor was there, holding the little pulse and watching the ebbing life. Heshook his head very gravely at Adrian's look of enquiry, and one glance into the little pale, distressed face told more plainly still that there was no hope. Tho child was breathing with great difficulty, and rolling his head from side to side. His beautiful eyes were partly closed, and the little lips were blue and drawn ; and the tears sprang unbidden to the young man's eyes as he thought of the bright, laughing boy he had left only the day before, with not a thought of finding him thus on his return. An hour passed with scarce any change, and still those kind watchers hovered around his bed. But suddenly there come to them from the drawing-room sounds of confusion and eager questioning. Adrian passes out to enquire the cause, and Brownie hears a few hurried sentences, then a sharp cry of pain, which is followed by the sudden rush of garments, and a beautiful woman of about thirty rushes frantically to the bedside, and bends, sobbing and moaning, over the dying child. She is immediately followed by a gentleman a few years older, who, with a groan of agony, seizes the little cold hands, and passionately, presses kiss after kiss upon them. Brownie comprehends at once that at I:xst the parents have found their missing child. " It is Sir Edgar Douglas and his wife, who liavejustreturned from a journey into Wales," Adrian whispers, drawing his wife a little aside, and then continued :

"They arrived only this morning, and were rendered nearly frantic at finding the nurse and their boy missing; but almost immediately they saw my advertisement, and hastened.hither at once." "'How dreadful!" murmured Brownie, weeping with the stricken ones. Then she hastened to minister to the little one, who seemed now to be struggling with the mighty foe ; while his mother was too much overcome with her violent grief to be capable of any effort, and the father seemed like one turned to stone. At length all is over. The head and eyes are still; the little chubby hands have relaxed their convulsive grasp, and the tortured breathing has ceased. Brownie closes the beautiful eyes, smooths the bright curling locks back from the marble brow, and clasps the tiny hands upon the still breast, then turns to comfort the bereft mother. It is a hopeless task, however, for she is borne fainting to another apartment, whither her husband soon follows her, having first, in reply to Adrian's ofi'er of assistance, requested that he would arrange for the last sad rites. For the next two days it seemed to Brownie as if this heavy cloud must for ever obscure the brightness of her sky. It was so hard to have this bright little floweret die, and she murmured for him almost as bitterly as if he had been her own. With her own hands she arrayed the perfect little form in the. daintiest garments she could find ; and when all was ready, Adrian laid him tenderly into the spotless shrine, .vliich was to hold the sacred clay until it , should rise again in immortal glory. His form was like the lilies, Ami his couch as pnro as they ; But one of God's messengers Had borne the aoul away ! He was like some pure, bright cherub, sleeping upon a couch of pearl! Then they called the stricken parents to behold the beautiful dust, and the last sad ceremonies were performed. The mother wept and would not be comforted, but the father was like a block of marble, until he looked his last upon his darling's face, and they bore him from his sight. Then, with one deep, heart-rending groan, he sank lifeless upon the floor, stricken down by a fatal attack of apoplexy. It was his heir—his only treasure, and death had ruthlessly snatched him from his grasp : he had not thought that his peerless boy could die, so young, so bright, so beautiful, and his own heart-strings were snapped asunder. Three days later the feet of them that had borne his son away, took him also, and laid him by his side, while the widow returned to her home desolate. The nurse was very ill for several weeks, but at length, contrary to all expectation, she began to recover, and in time returned to her sorrowing mistress.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. A.VOT II K R K B V K t. A T I O X. Does the reader consider the sad incidents contained in the last chapter a wearisome digression " They are of the utmost importance to our story, as the following, which appeared a few days subsequent in the London Times, will show : "The nearest of kin to Sir Edgar Douglas, who was son of Sir William Douglas, son of Sir Frederick Douglas, formerly of Winship Towers, Winchester, will leam something to his or her advantage by applying to Capel and Armand, attomeys-at-law, N0.47, Gray s Inn." ■ „ " What was your father s name, Brownie ? Adrian asked, lifting his eyes from the paper he had been reading. "William Douglas." "And what was his father's name?" "James. But why do you ask? Shall I bring forth the genealogical tree?" she asked, mischievously. "Yes, bring it," hu eaid, gravely, and with something of surprises in her manner she obeyed. "Now see it you can find the name of Sir Frederick Douglas three generations back," ho said, when he had spread it out. "Yes, here it is." "Now who was his heir;" " Sir William E. Douglas." "Does the table give the name of his son ?" "No, the record of that family stops there." "I thought likely; now what connection is, or was Sir William K. Douglas to your branch of the family ?" Brownie 'referred again to the chart. "Sir William, James, my grandfather, and. auntie, were all the children of Sir Frederick Douglas ; and I never knew until

this moment that auntie had more than one brother," Brownie said, in surprise. "That is strange ; and he was the heir to the baronetcy, too," returned Adrian; then he asked : "What is the date of his death ?" "IS4O. It is put here in auntie's own handwriting." " That is thirty-six years ago. Then Sir William Douglas was your father's uncle, which makes him your grand-uncle, and just the same relation to yoa that Miss Mehetabel Douglas was;" "Well, what does all this mean, Adrian ?" " It means that Sir Edgar Douglas was Sir William Douglas' heir, and he being deceased, also his son and only child Eddie, there does not seem to be any immediate heir to the property, which probably is entailed, or this advertisement would not have appeared," Adrian replied, as he handed it to his wife to read. She read it, and then turned to the genealogical table again with a flushed face. After a few minutes she looked up with a puzzled expression, and said : "I have an idea of what you are thinking, Adrian, bnt I cannot quite make it out." He took pencil and paper, and after a few moments placed the following diagram before her: — I Sir Frederick Douglas, 1 SirWm. Douglas | Mehetabel Douglas | James Douglas Dead Dead. Dead. Sir Edgar Douglas ; I *• Douglas Eddie Douglas I I Mehetabel Douglas. Dead. According to that you are the only li\ ing relative and heir of Sir Edgar Douglas, ' he said "Do you suppose it can be true? she asked gravely, "We will apply to Capel and Armand and see, dear." Accordingly they ordered a carriage and drove to Gray's Inn, taking Miss Mehetabel'a precious family tree with them. Brownie used to have her patience severely tried in the days when Miss Mehetabel would descant upon her illustrious birth and ancestry, and often wished this same family tree at" the bottom of the ocean, little thinking of the future good it was to bring her. They were most kindly received by Messrs. Capcl and Armaud, and after listening to Adrian's explanation, and thoroughly examining the record, they fully agreed with him tl.at Brownie was the person whom they were seeking. They congratulated her upon her good fortune, telling her that there was a fine estate at Winchester, and also a handsome town-honse, which would now become hers, and that in her own right she possessed an independent fortune. " How strange !" Brownie exclaimed, tearfully, when they were once more alone, and talking the matter over again, " that the little darling should be of my own kin." "It is, indeed, and I never thought of the coincidence of namas when Sir Edgar and his wife came," replied Adrian. 1 "I am so glad that he fell into our hands, instead of strangers ; yet I grieve for the 15001- little fellow and his father, who was just in the prime of life. It is sad that my gain must come from poor Lady Douglas' misfortune." •

And the young heiress looked more sorrowful than joyous over the changes of her fortunes. "It is sad, dearest; and I was satisfied with my wife, just as she was ; but I suppose that this will go to prove to Mrs. Grundy that I have not made a mesalliance after all," Adrian returned somewhat scornfully. It never rains but it pours, is the homely old adage, and the next clay brought a lengthy epistle from Mr. Conrad, of Philadelphia, stating that the concern in which he had invested so much of Miss Mehetabol a propei ty had formed a new stock company, which had assumed all the obligations of the old one, which they would cancel at their earliest convenience. It might be some time, he wrote, before they could make over the whole amount to her, but, meantime, they would continue the interest on the whole, and would make a yearly deposit in whatever bank she saw fit to designate, unless she should prefer to let her shares remain as they had been. And, the honest lawyer added, things were beginning to look brighter to him, also, and he hoped to be able soon to do something for her on his own account. Brownie rejoiced more on Mr. Conrad's account than on her own, since the burden which crushed him so heavily at the time of his confession, would now be in a measure lifted. She answered his letter immediately, telling him of her fortunes and misfortunes — telling him, too, not to worry too much over her money matters, since she had found that the filthy lucre was not the most needful thing in the world ; and she closed with a cordial invitation to him and his family to visit her should they ever come to En.land. One day, not long after, it was necessary for Brownie to go to Capel and Armand's to sign some papers regarding her coming into possession of the estate at Winchester. Adrian accompanied her as far as the door, where he was obliged to leave her to transact some business of his own.

She mounted the stairs to the office, swung open the door, entered, and found herself face to face with Lord Dunforth! He did not recognize her, for he had only seen her once while lie was at the castle, and he could not associate this elegantly clad, blooming woman, with the pale, black-robed figure who had been so attentive to Lady Ruxley's wants. At all events, he thought her wondrously beautiful now, and wondered who she could be! Browr.ie knew him instantly, and the rich colour ilew to her check, but she did not lose an atom of her self-possession. Her manner was perfect, her language, as she conversed with the lawyers, was choice and fluent, while the little hand with which she signed the documents they placed before her, was white, and soft, and tapering—"a sure sign of a lady," his lordship, who was watching from behind his paper, said to himself. He had never had any dealings until that day with Capel and Armand, and therefore they knew eomparitavely little of his lordship they did not even know that Mr. Dredmoud and lie were in any way connected ; but a little matter of business had called him hither, and he hid happened to be there when Brownie entered. "A remarkably lovely woman that," Mr. Capel said to him, after Brownie's departure. " She is, indeed. Who is she V "She is heiress to the property of Sir Edward Douglas, who died so suddenly a couple of weeks since." "Ah, yes ! I heard that he left no heir. That was a sad circumstance."

"It was, indeed, for his rent roll at Winchester is no mean one, and his townhoiise will compare favourably with the best." " So I have been told ; but how does tins youn" lady happen to inherit them ? Whoso child is she?" " Sir Kdgav's father, Sir William Douglas, and her grandfather, James Douglas, were brothers, each of whom had but one child, a son, and they in turn had only one child, one a son, the other a daughter. Sir Edgar's son, as you are aware, died only a few days previous to his father, and that leaves this lady the sole surviving relative. Her own parents died, one just before her birth, the other just after, leaving her to the care of a maiden aunt, Miss Mehetabal Douglas, who left this country many years ago, and settled in Philadelphia", United States" "Sir! What!" demanded his lordship, to whom this news was like a thunderbolt, which opened the old wound afresh. "Yes, her own name was Mehetabel Douglas until her marriage ; she was named for her aunt. My lord, you are ill!" said the lawyer, startled to see him grow so white, while his hand shook so that the paper beheld rattled. "No, no : go on. Then you say they are all dead, excepting this young lady," he cried, trying with a mighty effort to steady his nerves. " Yes, Miss Mehetabel, the elder, died less than a year, ago, the young woman tells me. They were supposed to be very wealthy at her death, but a series of misfortunes deprived them of everything, and this young lady obtained a situation as governess in a family that was coming abroad. Strange, isn't it, how things work around, and that she should come here to walk right into this fortune ?" . . It was passing strange, his lordship acknowledged ; and this beautiful young girl was the" nioce of his lost love, and her adopted child, doubtless. He wished he had known of this before she left he would have requested an introduction, and by that means he would have learned all about his lost one's life. As it was, he resolved to seek her out at his earliest convenience, and learn more of her and her antecedents. Then there suddenly arose a thought which troubled him. If this young lady was Miss Mehetabel's only living relative, how came Miss Isabel

Coolidge by those jewels ? Could it be that the poor child had been reduced to the necessity of selling them? It did not; yet occur to him that she was the poor discarded governess of whom Adrian had told him ! But no, he could not believe that a Douglas would be guilty of parting with precious heir-looms for filthy lucre, no matter how destitute she might become. Strange that he did not associate this tale with the one which Adrian had told him, but it did not occur to him. " You say the young lady is lately married," he said resuming his conversation with the lawyer, and determined to learn all he could. "Yes, I tbir.k it is not more than two or three weeks since the event occurred." Lord Dunforth did start now, remembering that that was about the time of Adrian's marriage. Still the truth did not enter his mind, as his next words proved. " You say she was a governess previously. Whom did she marry ? I trust she has not made a mesalliance ; the Douglases are remarkably good stock. I used to know the family intimately," he concluded, with a troubled brow. " You are right; they were always a fine family. Ido not think that tho young lady has brought any disgrace upon it, however, for her husband appears to be a very fine man. His name is Dredmond—Adrian Dredmond." His lordship's face turned ghastly at this, and he looked up at the loquacious lawyer in a dazed kind of way. He saw it all hot ; and his injustice and unkindness to Adrian stood out before him in its most glaring colours, while the cruelty of which he had been guilty to the child of his darling's love smote his heart with a pang which well-nigh turned the strong man faint. " You are surely ill, my lord !" Mr. Capel said, alarmed at his appearance, and pouring out a glass of wine ; he brought it to him, thinking it strange, too, that the story should afi'ect him so.

" Thank you ; it is merely a sudden dizziness, it will pass soon," he said, as he drank the wine ; then after he had regained his scattered senses somewhat, he arose, bade the lawyer good-morning and departed. His first and only love was dead, and his heart told him that she had been true to him to the last, from the fact of her never having married. But how could he meet her in the future and answer for all the insults andabuse lie had heaped upon the child of her love ? He had called her a beggar ! and his brow grew hot with shame of the thought, while lie wondered if she would ever forgive him ; for, of course, although she might never know of the epithets he had applied to her, she must know of his bitter opposition to her marriage with Adrian, and something of its cause. He wondered if she had recognised him as she came into Capel aud Arinand'soflice. "If she did, tho little witch displayed wonderful dignity and self-possession. 1 don't blame the bey for falling in love with her." he muttered. Then he rcmeuThcred how earnestly Adrian had begged him to listen while he explained, and he would not ; liou' he had returned his unopened letter, which doubtless contained all the information and more, that he had gained to-day ; and he sought his elegant home in Upper.Grosveuor-strcet, in a remarkably humble frame of mind for so proud a man ! [To be continued.]