THE NOVELIST.

Otago Witness, 14 December 1893, Page 39

THE NOVELIST.

[Now First Published.]

HIS WILL AND HERS. ■ ♦ ■

" By BORA RUSSELL,

Author of "Footprints in the Snow'," "The Broken Seal," " The Track of the Storm," * " A Fatal Past," " The Vicar's Governess," "The Last Signal," dec.

Chapter XVII.

In the Woods. HE next day, after the men, as usual, had gone out to shoot, Lady Danvers proposed to drive Laura through some of the by-roads of the park in her pony carriage. " I want you really to see the place," she said ; " the house is very well, but the trees

are far better."

Ifc was one of those bright; autumn days when the faint fresh chill in the air invigorates our frames and raises our spirits. And, as Lady Danvers drove through the long arcades of foliage, Laura, looking upwards at the epreading branches, through which the sun was glinting, and dappling the fern brakes, thought she had never seen anything so wild and beautiful as these woodland glades. It was all so still and lovely. No sound but a bird on the wing, or a hare scudding, scared, across the path. And the tints of the trees — the tawny orange, the mellow brown — and the blue mists ljing over the dells, filled Laura's artistic soul with wistful delight. " I will carry it away in my brain," she said. " Ob, if my hand could only portray it!" Lady Danvers was charmed with her enthusiasm. "I felt you would love it," she said. "When we were first married I was never weary of wanderirjg in these woods," " I cannot tell what they make me feel," answered Laura, " because words never, to my mind, express the deepest and tenderest of our thoughts. We do not talk of our love." Lady Danvers looked at her, greatly interested. " You could love very deeply, Mrs Gifford 1 " she said. Laura's only answer was a soft low sigh, " It is a doubtful gift, you know, I think," continued Lady Danvtr*, " when one absorbing passion takes possession of our -hearts. It may bring great misery ; it's very intensity is pain." "Yet it might bring happiness — great happiness." And again Laura sighed. i " Yes t but I should be afraid to risk it. It is best to be content wifch small things, and to give moderately. I go on this principle, Mrs Gifford," added Lady Danvers with a little laugh. j "Ab, but you have everything," said i Laura. j " I have much, and lam thankful for ifc ; j and I try to make the best of my life, and do '

my best for those around me, but— there is \ always a • but,' you know." " I think there can be none in your lot, Lady Danvers." " Well, I do not mind confiding to you that I diel not marry my first love. Dear as my husband is to me, most justly dear, there was someone who was once dearer still." " And now 1 " asked Laura eagerly. "He sleeps in an Indian grave. We had no money between us, and Walter Meredith went out to India to die I " " And it was a great blow to you 1 " " A great and bitter blow ; yet, you see, I have got over it. I thought when I married that I had no heart to give to my husband ; but I found I bad, or something that does very well in its place." " Still" began Laura wistfully. "I am happy and content," said Lady Danvers. "It I had married poor Walter I could have been no more." "I wish I could feel thus." " I am older than you, and perhaps colder; but, believe me, it is unwise to love too much." Lady D^nvers spoke almost in a tone of warning. This clever woman had almost unconsciously sounded the depth of her companion's heart. 11 She may wreck her life," she was thinking. " She does not love her husband, and Bhe may learn to love someone else too well." With a sort of an effort Laura tried to change the conversation. 11 We are talking quite sentimentally," she said. "Sense and sentiment; both very good things in their way," laughed Lady Danvers ; " but both to be taken in moderation." " This is not a spot to talk sense," smiled Laura. " It is certainly very lovely," said Lady Danvers, looking round at her fair surroundings ; " but let us talk sense for a little while. Tell me of your new horne — of whom does it consist ? " " Of my husband's father, a dear old man, and bis niece, whom I cannot say I think dear." " A middle-aged woman, I suppose ? " " Yes, I should call Miss Lindsay middleaged." "And therefore jealous of a younger and handsomer woman 1 Age either improves I the character or deteriorates it ; as a rule it improves the large mind, and a small one grows woree. Is this lady large-minded 7 " " No ; very small-minded, I should think." " Then forgive me if I warn you to beware of her. Remembsr, gnats can sting." Liura laughed pleasantly. " I am not afraid of her," she said ; " and George, my husband, does not care for her much either. But she is useful to old Mr Gifford, so we must try not to quarrel with her." " Yes, of course. But lam afraid we most turn homewards. The vicar and his wife are coming to lunch to-day, for they wish to see me about some alterations in the church ; and my mother comes in the afternoon. I wish you to know her. I think, though, she is so old you will find her more companionable than most of the Suffdd people." " I am sure I shall like her," Then Lady Danvers turned the pony's head, and they went back through the winding tracks in the wood, just wide enough for a pony phaeton to advance along, carpeted with mossy turf, and overshadowed by the long branches of the birch, or 'the sweeping masses of oaken boughs. Laura felt in a state of suppressed excitement, and was wonderirjg if Sir Ralph Woodland would return to the park for lunch. Bat no; none of the sportsmen did. Lunch was sent to them, and the party at the park consisted merely of the vicar of the parish, his wife, and Lady Danvers and Laura. The vicar was intent on his repairs, and his wife on her children. Lady Danvers sympathised with both ; and Laura naturally felt very little interest in the . conversation. When lunch was over therefore, she asked Lady Danvers's leave to go out once more in the woods. " But I am afraid I cannot go with you," said Lady Danvers, " as my mother would be so disappointed not to find me at home waiting for her when she arrives; but one of the grooms will drive yeu." "I prefer walking," answered Laura, smiling. " I wish to ccc if the wonderful light and shade of the woodlands will inspire me." " Oh, yes — go and weave a romance ! I want the Danvers's woods to be imortalised," said Lady Danvers gaily. Thus Laura was free to pro, and she went — went along the mossy paths and the wooded glades. She walked on and od, scarcely noting the time, her heart full of vague and restless longings. At last she stopped beneath a mighty oak, spreading its gnarled branches to the sky. Its vast trunk was grey with clinging lichen ; its foliage changing with the changing year, and yellowing in the sun. She was still looking upwards, mentally measuring the great boughs that drooped to the very ground and formed an ample tent whose waving curtains stirred with the passing breeze, when she heard a footstep approaching her, and looking hastily round Bhe saw Sir Ralph Woodland's tall form, carrying his gun, coming towards the very tree beneath which she stood. He had not seen her — did not see her until he caught a glimpse of her gray gown below the shadowing boughs. Then be stopped, took off his cap, laid down his quo, and also went beneath the spreading oak. " You startled me," he said, trying to speak lightly, though his dark face flushed. " I took you for one of the nymphs of the wood." " This is a fitting bower for one," answered Laura, with a smile and a vivid blush. " Yes. Are you alone ? " " Quite alone. The vicar of the parish came to lunch, and I found myself rather in the way, and so set out for a walk jn the woods by myself ." " I am glad that I have met you," said Sir Ralph, looking ab her gravely. Laura stirred uneasily, and her eyes fell. " I want to talk to you, to explain my conduct", which must have seemed inexplicable to you." "Is it any use to speak of it now ? " ssid Laura, with faltering lips. "It is of use— to me, at least. You 1

remember my telling you that I had received an anonymous letter warning me against you 1 " " Yes." " And you remember that— this letter did not prevent my doing what I had intended to do — that I a<iked you to be my wife 1 " " Yes," again half-whispered Laura. " You answered that it could not be — that there was a reason why it could not be." " I remember," said Laura, with a little gasping sigh, and her face grew very pale. " 1 felt greatly disappointed. I left you with a moody and uneasy heart. I asked myself why you should reject my love when there was, I knew, such a strong bond of sympathy and union between our minds. I knew that then; I know it now. What could be your reason 1 Then I remembered the anonymous letter in which your character was vilified, and I was actually thinking of this when I accidentally met Miss Patty May." Laura lifted her dark eyes, and looked him quickly in the face. " Well ? " she said, inquiringly. " She told me an extraordinary thing bad happened to her — that she also had received an anonymous letter against your character, warning her that you were not a proper person for her to know. Forgive me speaking plainly, but I must know the truth." Laura's lips slightly curled. " She probably wrote both the letters herself,'' she said scornfully. " I did not — I could not— believe this of any woman at the time} now I have strong doubts on the subject — nay, I believe she did commit this shameful action. However, I | went to see her letter, and as I turned into Maddox street I saw you enter the house with a gentleman." " It must have been Mr Gifford then, for I never spoke to anyone else." " Pardon me for asking you such a ques- ! tion, but were you engaged to M-r Gifford then ? " " Most certainly not. He had been my poor father's lawyer, and he was mine ; he had arranged all about my affairs, and had acted in the kindest manner to me. I never spoke to another gentleman in London except yourself and two publishers. I knew no one. Miss Patty May maligned my character totally without reason." "I am now only too sure of this. But consider and forgive my natural jealousy and anger. Another day I saw a gentleman hand you into a cab. Then I told myself you were no wife for me ; that your reason- for refus- [ ing me had probably been your love for another man." "It was not 1 " said Laura, and a sudden flush dyed her face from chin to brow. " I thank God for this," said Sir Ralph, in a low, emphatic voice. "Bat," he added, "I believed this to have been your reason at the time, and I made up my mind to try and forget you. I went abroad — to Paris first — and led an idle, careless life there, but I did not do what I meant to do. I could not forget you; and at last, after some months, I decided to return to town and try to learn the truth more fully." " About me ? " 11 Yes ; about you. Well, I did return. I •went the very next day to your rooms in Maddox street. That little wretch, Patty May, must have seen me at the house door. The servant told me you had left some time ago, and Patty May came rush'.Dg down to meet me, I wanted to hear abolit you, and I went into her room for the purpose. I asked about you, and she put on a shocked air. She said there had been a great scandal about you ; that you had left Maddox street some months ago, and that you had gone away with a young man." " How shameful 1 How utterly shameful ! " cried Laura indignantly. "You may well say how shameful. But thi3 news — this lie — was a bitter blow to me. Unconsciously I had cherished a hope that I might have been mistaken before. Now, what could I believe ? A few days later I met you in the park, and when you bowed and smiled I felt only anger and scorn." " And you passed me without a word," said Laura with a strange pathos in her voice. " Passed me at a time when a kind word from a friend would have been much to me. Now let me tell you my story : tell you the reason I left Maddox street, but not with a young man I I left it because I was too poor to stay — because one disappointment after another had happened to me. I wect to shabby lodgings in Edgware road, and there also had nothing but trouble. I spent my last £50 in trying to get my novel published. I was left without money. I could not pay my landlady, who was insolent to me" " Good heavens 1 " interrupted Sir Ralph, ! with passionate impatience, "and all this time I was thinking of you— wearing my heart out for your sake ! " " And at last-," continued Laura, as though unmindful of his words — "at last, when the landlady would, I am sure, have turned me homeless into the streets unless I had paid her by a certain day, I wrote to Mr Gifford. He had told me before I left Suffold that if ever I needed a friend I bad to think of him. I wrote to ask him to lend me £10 " " And he came ? I understand now," said Sir Ralph, with suppressed bitterness. "He came ; he brought me money ; he was most generous. And after awhile — he asked me to be his wife. I was very friendless, and so I " Tears ru&hed into Laura's eyes as, in broken accents, she faltered out these last words, and she turned her head away to try to conceal them, but Sir Ralph caught her hand, and bent down his head and kissed it. " Will you — can you — forgive me 1 " he said. " There is nothing to forgive," answered Laura, a little sob half choking her voice ; " you were deceived by Miss May, and he — my husband — is very good to me." Sir Ralph did not speak. He stood there holding her hand ; his heart full cf emotions be dare not tell.

CHArTEIt XVIII.

A Row. " I think I must go r«ow," said Laura, a moment later, f>nd sb*j gently drew her hand away from S'r Ralph's trembling grasp. He did net sf-k her to stay. He put aside the drooping branches o£ the oak for her to pafcn from bsueath if-, and followed her, picking up his gun as he went,

" May I walk with you to the park ? " he asked, as he rejoined her. " Yep," answered Laura, and for some minutes not another word was exchanged between them. They walked side by side — these two who loved each other in silence— for what was there to say ? Sir Ralph was inwardly cursing Pxtty May, whose treachery he believed had lost him the woman he loved. But Laura was not thinkirjg of Patty May. She was thinking of her dead father's letter, and the cruel legacy he had left to her young life. "Under any circumstances it could not have been," she was telling herself mournfully. Twice Sir Ralph turned his head and looked at her before he spoke again. He caw her delicate profile, her drooped head, her quivering lips. Then suddenly there flashed across his mind the remembrance of something she had said. " May I ask you one more question 1 " he said. "Yep," answered Laura, wibhout raising her head. " You told me a little while ago that it was not from any attachment to anyone else that made you reluse me. Will you tell mo what was yonr reason ? " Laura was silent. " Was it that you did not care for me — that you were indifferent to me ? " urged Sir Ralph. " Ob, hush 1 husb, Sir Ralph I " oried Laura, in great agitation. " I pray you to tell me the truth." " I cannot," answered Laura, and she put her hand over her face. "But this much I will tell you : I cared for no one else." " You were bound to no one else ? " " I was not — most certainly not. Mr Gifford had asked me to marry him before I left Suffold, and I had refused him. He was the only lover I ever had." " There was one exception, at least," said Sir Ralph, with some bitterness. " Oh, do not speak of it, Sir Ralph ! There was a reason — a painful reason —but it had nothing to do with you nor mo. I was forced to act as I did." " And but for this reason you might have loved me," said Sir Ralph slowly. Laura did not speak. " Laura, did you love me 1 My heart lold me that you did." Then Laura looked at him, and there was reproach in her eyes. "Is this generous 1 " she said. " No, it is ungenerous," he answered ; " I admit that — but even now " He said nothing more. A few minutes later he pointed to a winding woodland path which branched off from the one they were then walking on. " This is a wonderful place, isn't it ? " he said, almost in his ordinary voice. " It is very beautiful," answered Laura, in faltering tones. "Do you ever sketch from Nature ? Da you think you could sketch here 1 " 11 1 am afraid not." "We might try some day. Lady Danvers sketches fairly well. I must ask her to get up a sketching party." " No, no, I could not," answered Laura. She could not recover her composure a3 quickly as he had done ; she was trembling. The very knowledge that he had always loved her, that his estrangement even had. been part of his love — his jealous love — filled her heart with the deepest emotion. Sir Ralph evidently wished to talk of other things, but she could not. " And these girls," she said — " Miss May — have you seen her lately 1 " " I have had a letter from her," answered Sir Ralph, with a little shrug of his shoulders. •' I know where to find her, and I shall call her strictly to account for the misthief she has done." II That is only right — and yet " "Do you not wish me to do this 1 " asked Sir Ralph quickly. " I do wish it ; but I was thinking — we met, you see, here as strangers — perhaps more mischief might come of it." " I understand what you mean ; but it wis such shameful conduct, and to allow her to go unpunished." " Still " hesitated Laura. 11 1 shall cut her, at all events," said Sir Ralph grimly, " and she won't like that." " I suppose — she must like you 1 " " She wishes to marry me, I believe," answered Sir Ralph scornfully, and with a contemptuous shrug. But by this time they had neared the house, and Sir Ralph did not offer to accompany Laura any further. " I will go round by the gun room," he said. " But we will meet at dinner ; and — and — I shall never forget what I have heard to-say." Laura made no reply to thi3. She krjew also that she would never forget what she had heard that day ; but she. knew also f,hat Bhe must make no sign. She made haste-, therefore, to go into the small drawing room, where she found quite a large party dunking tea, and otherwise refreshing themselves. Some of the sportsmen bad come in, and among them was George Gifford. "Why, Laura," he said, going up to her as she entered the room, " I've been wondaring what had become of you. Lady Danvers said you had gone out to walk in the wood, and I was just going to start nut to seek you." " I have had quite a lorjg walk," answered Laura, "the woods are so beauti;ul." " Yes, aren't they jolly 1 We must go for a walk in them some day." " Yes." "But, Laura, I've had a letter from my father by this afternoon's post, and I find that I shall be obliged to go back to Suffold to-morrow on some important business. But I could leave you here and return for you on Friday, if you would like that. Lady Danvers asked you, you know." Laura was silent for a moment or two, and then she said slowly : "No, I think nor, Gaorge. I think I would lather go back with yon." " Well, just as you like, my dear. Of course I shaJl be very pleaded if you v/ill go back with me, only I tli-J not like to shorten a pleasant visit for you." "I think I will go with you," answered Laura, with a wistful look in her dark eyes. She was thinking " I am better away ; better out of his sight." But George Gifford could not read her thoughts, and was pleased that his young wife was ready to give up a

pleasant visit for his sake. He went and brought her some tea, and be was still standing beside her when Sir Ralph Woodland entered the room, and at once approached the husband and wife. But he said nothing about his meeting with Laura in the woods. He asked George Gifford about the day's shooting, and the extent of the bag. He spoke, in fact, more to George than to Laura, and presently Laura left them, and went to talk to Lady Danvers and tell her that she proposed to return the next day to Suffold. But Lady Danvers would not hear of this. " No," she said, in her pretty way, " I will not allow Mr Gifford to take you away. I want you to get • copy ' — is that the word ? — for your next new novel in the Danvers's woods. Mr Gifford, come here 1 " and she beckoned to George, who crossed the room to speak to his hostess. "Mr Gifford, here is this charming wife of yours telling me that you are beginning to act the tyrant lord and master already !—! — that because you have to go away to-morrow on business for a short time she has to go away to 1 I really won't; have it ! " George laughed. "It was Laura's own proposal, Lady Danvers, not mine," he said. "Well, you see, George, I thought" began Laura with a blush. " You must not think of it any more, theri, Mrs Gifford ; your husband will come back for you. Why, you've seen nothing of my mother, nothing of Sir Richard, nothing of me I " "You are very kind, Lady Danver?, but" " I will listen to no < bats.' Let us settle it for her, Mr Gifford ; when do you propose to return ? " 11 On Friday," answered George goodnaturedly. " You had better stay, Laura, until then." They Eetbled it thus. George was to leave for Suffold the next day, Thursday, and to return to the park on Friday,, and their visit was to terminate on Saturday. Laura could scarcely object; to this arrangement without rudeness to Lady Danvers, whom she liked so much. She therefore gave way, and glanced half-timidly across the room to where Sir Ralph stood as she did so. He was talking to some men, and he went on talkiDg to them ; and after dinner it was the same thing. He, in fac H -, made no attempt to speak to her again during the rest of the evening. Bat Laura noticed that he talked a good deal to George, and George was evidently pleased by this. " That's a very nice fellow, that Sir Ralph Woodland," he said to Laura afterwards ; 11 he's got plenty of common sense." " He talks very well," answered Laura. 11 Yes ; and they say he has a large fortune, so I suppose he'll be getting married to some girl soon." And these careless words gave a fresh pang to Laura's heart. What if he were to get married soon 1 Would it be better, be happier, for them both 1 Laura knew that it would be, and yet she shrank from the thought as the patient shrinks from the knife. She might keep out of his way, but she did not care to think that another woman should come between them. She did not see him again until after George was gone. George left early, and there were some fresh arxivals expected during the morning at the park, Sir Richard and Lady Danvers entertaining daring the autumn a continual succession of guests. So Laura sat with her hostess and her venerable mother during the morning in Lady Danvers's boudoir, which was one of the prettiest rooms in the house, with a bay window looking towards the west. Mrs Lynton, white-haired, aged, and dignified, did not say much. Bub the other two women touched on most of the subjects of the day ; chiefly on those vague yearnings which induce many to seek to pierce the veil which wraps the hidden things from our ken. 11 It is all such a mystery — such a mystery I " said Laura, rising in some excitement and going to the bay window, which overlooked part of the terrace. "We are born, and we cannot help ourselves ; we die, and we cannot help ourselves ; and in life it seems to me that we cannot help ourselves either." "My dear," said Mrs Lynton 's gentle voice, "in one way we can help ourselves ; we can lay all our troubles at the feet of our Heavenly Father, and ask His aid to help us to bear them." " But why have we troubles ? " asked Laura. " I beiievo to prepare us for the untroubled land hereafter," answered the white-haired lady, whose own lot had not always been a smooth one. " ' Who, going through the vale of misery, use it for a well. 1 But it is easier for the old to feel this than tha youDg." Laura made no answer. On the terrace below at this moment appeared the tall grey-clad figure of a man whom Laura instantly recognised — recognised with a sudden tumultuous throbbing at her heart and a deep flush on her oval cheeks. It was Sir Ralph Woodlaud, and he found the ladies in the small dining room when the luncheon hour came. "Then you are not with the rest, Sir Ralph 1 " said Lady Danvers, Bmiliug, when she saw him. "No, I have been in the house aU the morning, except for half an hour's smoke on thß terrace. I have been writing business letters and returning a love letter," answered Sir Ralph, and he looked at Laura as he spoke. " Returning a love letter ! " repeated Lady Danvers with a laugh. " What an extraordinary proceeding 1 " " Quite a necessary one, I assure you," said Sr Itilph. "And the poor girl? Are you breaking anyone's heart, Sir Ralph 1 " "No, I am quite sure I am not; the young lady in this case has no heart to b eak." Lady Danvers laughed and turned away to receive sorna fresh visitors who had just arrived at the park — a Colonel and Mrs "Vanhurst. The colonel was a fice gieyhaired old soldier, and his wife a pretty little woman who easily went into ecstacies. She went into ec3tacies now on the beauties of Danvers Park and its surroundings, and occupied Lady D^nvera's attention. Then

Sir Ralph crossed over to where Laura was standing. " You know to whom I returned my love letter," he said, smiling. Laura also smiled. " You will only get a more tender appeal in return, and a demand for an explanation," she answered. " Which I shall also return ; I shall never speak another word to her." "I think it wonld be the wisest plan," said Laura, lowering her voice. " What are you going to do this afternoon ? " then asked Sir Ralph. "What the others do, I suppose," said Laura. " Probably that gushing little woman yonder will want to see over the grounds. Would you like a row on the lake ? " "We must leave Lady Danvers to decide how her guests shall amuse themselves." When luncheon was over, Mrs "Vanhurst entreated them to go over the place, " and explore the lovely woods I " she cried, clapping her little hands together in well-feigned enthusiasm. "We will all go, then," said Lady Danvers. " Mrs Vanhurst, allow me to present Sir Ralph Woodland to you." " And will you be my guide through the woods 2 " said the pretty little woman, raising her fine eyes to Sir Ralph's face with a look of pathetic appeal and innocence. " I should have been charmed," he answered grimly, "only I have already promised to row another lady on the lake." And he looked at Laura as he spoke, who turned her head away and affacted not to hear what he had said. " And can I not row, too ? " asked Mrs Vanhurst sweetly, who did not wish to lose the company of the most distiDgui&hed-looking man in the room. "The woods are well worth seeing," answered Sir Ralph, turning away. "Do not forEake me in my trouble," the next moment he half-whispered in Laura's ear. " You promised, remember, to row with me on the lake." Laura could not help smiling, but Sir Ralph got his own way. " I am going to row Mrs Gifford," he said, calmly, when Lady Danvers approached them ; and little Mrs Vanhurst was forced to start to explore tbe woods in the — to her — wearisome company of her husband and Lady Danvsrs ; for she was tired of her husband, and always tired of all women. In the meanwhile the two who were going down to the lake were gmiling over her discomforture. " You behaved very badly to that little lady, Sir Ralph," said Laura. 11 1 hate gushing women," he answered ; "it was awEully good of you to come to my rescue." " You gave me no choice." " I wished you to come bo much." They did not say much after this. They walked together over the smooth, • green sward down to tha shining lake, by whose margin the tall reeds reared their graceful heads. There was a small island in the centre of the lake, and this was inhabited by a great quantity of water fowl. A peaceful scene ; silent, beautiful, and well-suited to the mood of the two, who stood looking at the blue depth of the sun-lit water, round which the willows drooped, and the breeze softly stole. There were. two boats moored to the shore, and one of these Sir Ralph presently drew iD, and having assisted Laura into it, he pushed off and began to row across the lake. The rhythmic dip of the oars, the romantic beauty of the scene, seemed to cast a sort of spell over Laura's soul. The last few months seemed to pass away from her mind. She was a girl again, listening once more to her lover's voice. Yet no word .of love came from Sir Ralph's firm lips. He knew if he had spoken such hs would have frightened her ; that he would have destroyed the charm of that tacit agreement that bound their hearts. Bub it was a perilous hour to both ; deepening the strong passion in the man's heart, and filling the woman's whole being with a vague sense of happiness she had never felt before. And not until the sun began to dip in the west, and a chill breeze crept over the darkening water, did Laura recall herself from that blissful trance. " Ib must be getting late," she said ; "you had better row in, Sir Ralph." "So soon ? " he answered. Ah 1 it was too soou for him ; too soon for her 1 Time had rushed on in that golden hour as it flies to cheat us of out joy. Yet he did not disobey her wish nor attempt to detain her. He rowed slowly back to the landing place ; he assisted Laura from the boat, and then both, as if by mutual consent, tnrned round to look at the now shadowed lake. " I shall never forget it," said Sir Ralph in a low tone. " I shall see it in my dream 3," thought Laura. But a moment later she roused herself. " Come, Sir Ralph, let U3 make haste ; they will think we are lost," she said. And so the two turned and went away. (To be continued.)