THIS SERIAL COMMENEED IN THE 'GRAPHIC' ON NOVEMBER 15. BACK NUMBERS MAY BE OBTAINED. JANET:

New Zealand Graphic, Volume VII, Issue 11, 14 March 1891, Page 4

T HIS SERIAL COMMENEED IN THE 'GRAPHIC' ON NOVEMBER 15. BACK NUMBERS MAY BE OBTAINED. JANET:

THE STORY OF A GOVERNESS. By MRS. OLIPHANT. Author of 'Laird of Worlaw,' ’Aimes.' CHAPTER XLIV.

IT was strange that it should be Gussy, who was not ideal or j.’, visionary, but very matter of r' 1 SjjL> r'lifci a fact in all her ways, who was t * ie most cruelly offended by -9~ yi- <3the events of this night. It s ' A seemed to Gussy that she had t; -if ISV t been deceived and played upon t hy everybody. By her mother, ’ "h° evidently never narrated to her the gravity of the position, though she had known the fact for years ; by Meredith, who '*< j; ’er’ had seemed to know more of it than ' Gussy did, and whose eyes had been keen ywfatf with understanding, following every word /''f w h a t was to Gussy merely the ravings ✓W without consequence of a madman ; he knew more of it than she did, who had 7'* v-’rf helped to take care of the secret inmate. A n( l then Dolff, her brother. What was the meaning of this cloud of tempest which had come into DolfTs trivial schoolboyish 'SW life? Why had he tried to kill, if that was what he wanted, or, at least, to injure, to assault Meredith ? It was all a mystery to ’ Gussy. She understood nothing except that many things had been going on in the house which she either did not know at all, or knew imperfectly —that she had been possibly made a dupe of, brought down from the position which she had seemed to hold of right as the chief influence in the family. She had thought this was how. it was : her mother’s confidant, the nurse and guardian angel of her love, the controller, more or less, of all the house. And it turned out .that she knew nothing, that there were all kinds of passions and mysteries in her own house with which she was unacquainted, that what she knew she k-new imperfectly, and that even in confidence she was kept in the dark. Gussy was not imaginative, and consequently had little power of entering into the feelings ordivining the movements ot the minds of others. She was wounded, mortified to the depth of her heart, and angry, with a deep, tilerit anger not easily to be overcome. She did not linger nor ask for explanations, but went straight up to her room without a moment’s pause, careless that both her mother, whom. she generally attended through the troublesome process of undressing, and Julia, whom she. usually held under 1 such strict authority, were left behind, the latter in contempt of all ordinary hours. Janet, whose charge she was, was not visible, she had stolen away, as it had lately been her habit to do. Janet, Gussy felt sure, was mixed up in it too ; but how was she mixed up in it? Think as she would. Miss Harwood could not make out to her satisfaction how it could be that Janet could have influenced Dolff to assault Meredith. Janet had no quarrel with Meredith, could not have. He had been civil to her —too civil, Gussy liad sometimes thought. She remembered that there was a time when she had felt it very tiresome to have to discuss Miss Summerhayes so often : and on the night of the ball, certainly, they had danced and talked together almost more than was becoming. How, then, could Janet have moved Dolff to attack Meredith? It seemed impossible to discern any plausible reason ; and yet Gussy had a moral certainty that Janet was somehow mixed up in it. Could it be that the joke about Dolff and his accompaniments had been the cause ? Gussy felt involuntarily that it must be something more serious than that.

She went to bed resolutely, for, indeed, there are times when it requires a severe effort to do this—to shut out the commotions which are around, and turn one’s back upon all the questions that require solving. Gussy felt bitterly that she had no certainty as to what might be going on in the house, which she had lately been as sure of as if she had created it. Her mother, for anything she knew, might be going from room to room, her chair set aside, and all her pretences with it. To think that she, Gussy, should have been taken in bv it so long, and have believed whatever was told her. Her brother, Dolff, so good-natured, of so little account as he was ! might have caught Meredith again at a disadvantage, and have accomplished now what he tried liefore. The house, her calm and secure domain, seemed now full of incomprehensible noises and mysterious sounds to Gussy. But she would not even look over the banisters to see what was going on. She would not open her door, much less steal downstairs, as another woman might have done, to find out everything. She went to bed. She asked no explanation. She shut her door, and drew her curtains, and closed her eyes. Whatever might be going on within or without, the gateways of her mind w’ere closely fastened up, so that she might hear or see no more. It was Priscilla who put her mistress to bed, and Mrs Harwood was very angry with her children, feeling that Gussy had deserted her and that Dolff had insulted her. But it takes more than that to make a woman betray her sons and daughters. With the flush of anger still on her cheek and the tremble on her lips she told Priscilla how tired Miss Harwood was, how she had lieen overdoing herself, how she had made her go tolled. * I told her you could see to all I want quite nicely. Priscilla.’ ‘Yes, ma’am,’ said Priscilla ; but it was doubtful how far she was taken in, for, of course, the servants knew a great deal more than they were supposed to know, and where they did not know they guessed freely, and with wonderful success.

It was curious to see them all assemble in the morning at the breakfast-table as if nothing had happened. Nay, that was not a thing that was possible. There were traces of last night’s excitement on every face ; but yet they came in, and sat down opposite each other, and Gussy helped Dolff to his coffee and again wondered bow in all the world Janet could be the cause of bis attack on Meredith, for it was evident that now, at least, Dolff was not in a state of mind to do anything for Janet. He never spoke to her during breakfast. He avoided her eye. When she spoke, he turned away as if he could not let her voice reach his ears if he could help it. How then could Janet be mixed up in it? Gussy was sorely perplexed by this problem. As for Janet, though she was pale, she put on an elaborate appearance of composure awl of knowing nothing which (in her readiness to be exasperated with everything) provoked Gussy most of all. She said to herself that it was a worse offence to pretend not to know when everybody was aware that she must know, than to show her knowledge in the most irritating way. No doubt, however, that if Janet had betrayed any knowledge, Gussy would have found that the most ill - timed exhibition that could be. There was very little conversation, except between Janet and Julia, during this embarrassing meal. And Mis Harwood came out of her room as she had gone into it, unattended by her daughters. There was less signs about her than about any of them of the perturbation of last night. Sometimes an old woman will bear agitation better than the young. She had probably had so much of it, been compelled to gulp it down so often ! Her eyes were less bright than usual —nay, they had a glance of fire in them which was not usual in their calmer state, and the colour in her cheeks was fresher than that of anyone else in the house. The girls were all pale—even Julia, and Dolfl of a sort of dusky pallor, which made his light hair and moustache stand out from his face. But Mrs Harwood’s pretty complexion was unchanged — perhaps because they had all made so many discoveries she had made none, but had been aware of everything and of far more than anyone else knew for years.

Early in the day the policeman of last night appeared with a summons to Mrs Harwood, directing her to appear before some board to show cause why she should have kept, unregistered and unsuspected, a lunatic shut up in her house. Mrs Harwood saw the man herself, and begged to be allowed to make him a little present ‘ for your great civility last night.’ The policeman almost blushed, as he was a man who bore a conscience, for he was not conscious of being very civil; but he accepted the gratuity, let us hope, with the intention of being civil next time he was employed on any such piece of business. While he spoke to Mrs Harwood in the hall, whither she had been wheeled out to see him, Meredith came from his room and joined her. He had nbt escaped so well as she the excitement of the previous night, and it was with unfeigned astonishment that he contemplated this old lady, fresh and smiling, her pretty colour unimpaired, her eyes as bright as usual. She was over sixty ; she had just been baffled in an object which had been the chief inspiration of her life for years, disappointed, exposed to universal censure, perhaps to punishment, but her wonderful force of nature was not abated ; the extraordinary crises which had passed over her, breaking the bonds of her ailment, delivering her from her weakness, had left no signs of exhaustion upon her. She looked like a woman who had never known what trouble or anxiety was as she sat there smiling, assuring the policeman that she could fully explain everything, and would not fail to do so in the proper quarter. She turned to Meredith as he appeared, and held out her hand to him. ‘ Good morning, my dear Charley ; I hope you are not the worse for last night’s agitation. You see our friend here has come to summon me to make explanations about my poor dear upstairs. You will appear for me and settle everything, won’t you ? You see this gentleman is a barrister,’ she explained, smiling to the man who stood looking on. • Of course I will-,’ Meredith said.

Upon this the policeman took courage, and with a scrape made his amende honorable. ‘ I ought to beg your pardon, sir, and yours too, lady, for all the-trouble last night. I had every confidence in Jim Harrison, the man that said that he could identify the culprit—that is the fellow as nearly killed you, sir—and rumours have been getting up all over the place as it was the young gentleman here as had been a bit wild and hated you like poison.’ ‘ Dolff never hated me like poison, did he?’ said Meredith, elevating his eyebrows and appealing to Mrs Harwood. ‘ Never ! you have always been one of his best friends.’

‘ Well!’ said the officer, who was not too confident eithei in this assurance or in the conclusion he had been obliged to come to, ‘There was a parcel of tales about. You can never tell how these tales gets up. However, it’s all been a mistake, for when Jim sees yon young gentleman he says in a moment, ‘ Nothing of the sort —that’s not ’im.’ So it all falls to the ground, as you’ll see, sir, being used to these questions, as the lady says—for want of evidence.’ ‘ Exactly,’said Meredith, ‘ and you’ll do me the justice to say, officer, that I told you it would from the first. It’s worth while occasionally taking a man’s advice that knows something about it, you perceive, instead of your Mr Jim, who evidently knows nothing but what he thinks he saw or didn’t see.’

‘ That’s it, sir, I suppose,’ said the policeman, ‘ and if he did see it, or if he didn’t, I couldn’t tell, not if it was as much as my place was worth.’ ‘ He would have looked rather foolish, though, don’t you think, in tlie witness box ? You see,’ added Meredith, with a lauerh. ‘ You might have spared this lady the trouble of last night. • No, I don’t see that, sir,’ said the policeman, piomptly, ‘ for if it didn’t answer one query, it did another. I’m very sorry to upset a lady, but she didn’t ought to bottle up a madman in a piivate house without no register nor information to the commissioners, nor proper precautions. You know that, sir, just as well as me.’ ‘How do you know that the lady has no license?’ said Meredith, ‘or that her relation’s illness is not perfectly known? I think you will find a little difficulty in proving that, and then vour superiors will be less pleased with the discoverv. However that’s my business, as Mrs Harwood has confided that to me,’ lie added, with a laugh which he could not restrain at the man’s sudden look of alarm.

* Don’t find fault with our fiiend ; he was as civil as it was possible to he. Good-morning, and thank you,’said Mrs Harwood, sitting, with her placid smile, watching the

visitor, stiff and uneasy in his plain clothes, as he went away. When the door was shut upon him by Priscilla, who sniffed and tossed her head at the necessity of being thus civil to a man who had made so much commotion in the house—much as she and her fellow servants had enjoyed the excitement—Mrs Harwood’s countenance underwent a certain change. The smile faded ; a look of age crept round the still beaming eyes. ‘lf you will wheel me back to my room, Charley, we can talk, r she said. She could not but be conscious that he was thinking, asking himself why she could not walk, she who had found power to do so when she wanted it; but she betrayed no consciousness of this inevitable thought. She was very grave when he came round from the back of her chair and stood facing her in the firelight, which on a dull London morning in the end of January was the chief light in the room. -Perhaps the dreary atmosphere threw a cloud upon her face. Her soft, halfcaressing tone was gone. She had become hard and busi-ness-like in a moment. * You want me to explain,’she said. ‘lf you please. You know how much my father was involved—that crtize about the money to be paid back. Even a mad repetition like that seems likely to have a foundation in fact. Is it true ?’

She bent her head a little, and for the moment cast down her eyes. ‘lt was true.’ ‘ It was true ; then you have alienated ’ ‘ Wait a little. There were no such creditors as his own children, who would have been ruined had not I saved them. They knew nothing of any question of money. They knew nothing of ’ ‘ Of his existence at all—till last night ?’ ‘ I am bound to furnish you with every information I can. The young ones knew nothing of his existence. Gussy did ; but only that I kept him there to save him from an asylum where he might have been treated cruelly—nothing more. You will not take a high moral tone against me, as she is ready to do, and Dolff ’ ‘ No ; I will take up no high moral tone,’ said Meredith ; ‘ but the position is very difficult. Yon have not, I suppose, done away with the money ?’ ‘lt is well invested; it is intact. We eould not have lived as we have done on my own money. Now, of course, I must give it up And no injustice need he done,’sire added with a sigh ; ‘ it can be paid— at last.’ ‘ With interest for all these years?’ said Meredith, with a smile.

‘Oh, what are you talking of?’ she said. ‘People will be so glad to get anything so unexpectedly, that they will say nothing about the interest. I even think ’

* What do you even think ?’ he said, as she paused. ‘ How can I tell how you may take it, whether it will : commend itself to you or not ? There might still be an ’ arrangement by which things might be managed. ‘ After it gets into the papers and it is known that you have been concealing ’ ‘ Oh,’ she cried again, • you are more dull then I gave you ■ credit for being, Charley Meredith ! Who will notice up I in Liverpool a romantic story (which is all the papers wifi make of it) occurring in St. John’s Wood ? Who will link one thing to another and understand exactly what has happened, or believe that——l might have taken him in a miserable wreck, out of sheer love and kindness. I did, I did !’ she ciied, suddenly, her face melting out of its hardness, her eyes filling with tears. ‘ You may not believe me, but I did. I thought he had not a penny. I went to all the expense of fitting up the wing for nim—working with my own hands at it, that nobody should suspect—believing that Vicars had brought.him back with his own money—that he had done— I did, though you may not believe me,’ she said. ‘ I have not said I did not believe you. We are all very queer creatures—mixed up. And then when you found he had that old pocket-book—for it was full of something better than old papers then—you were tempted, and you ’ She nodded her head ; then said, after a while, ‘ I do not accept that formula. I was tempted—and I did what I had a right to do. I had wronged nobody—l knew nothing about them. If I had divided that among them, what would it have been ?—a trifle to each, but enough to dry up all the sympathy they were meeting with. He had made ducks and drakes of more than that belonging to me. And the children were the most deeply wronged. I took it for their sakes, to make up what they had been robbed of. It can go to the others now, and you will see how much it will be.’

‘ You said something,’ said Meredith, ‘ about an arrangement that might still be made ?’

* Yes—if you could lend yonrself to it, Charley. It could not be done without you.’ ‘ I cannot tell whether I could lend myself to it or not, nntil I hear what it is.’

She looked at him, and two or three times made as if she would speak, but shut her lips again. Her eyes searched his face with an anxious expression. ‘ I don’t know how you will take it,’ she said, hesitating ; ‘ I don’t know how you will take it.’ Then, after a pause, she added, ‘ I will begin by asking you a question. Do you want to marry my daughter Gussy ? Yes or no !’ Meiedith made a step backwards, and put his hand to his breast as if he had received a blow. In that moment various dreams swept through his mind. Janet's image was not the only one, though it had the freshness of being the last. One of those dreams, indeed, was no other than the freedom of his own bachelor estate, and the advantage of life which was not bound by any social ties. He avowed, however, at length soberly— ‘ I think I may say yes, Mrs Harwood—that is what has been for a long time in my mind.’

CHAPTER XLV. The conduct of affairs in the house of the Harwoods was very dreary during the whole of this day. It was, to begin with, a very dreary day, not fog, which can be borne, but one of those dark days which are the scourge of London, when everything is dull and without colour without and within, the skies grey, the earth grey, the leafless branches rising like a black tracery upon the colourless background, the light scarcely enough to swear by, to make it seem unnatural to shut the shutters and light the lamp, which is what every well-constituted mind desires to do in the circumstances. And in the moral atmosphere ihe same atmosphere reigned. Gussy had a countenance like the day. She, who had at no time much colour, had now none. She was like the landscape ; hair, eyes, and cheeks seemed all the same. Every glimmer of light seemed to have been

suppressed in her eyes. She kept them down, or she turned her gaze inward, or she veiled them with some film which is at the command of those who are angry whether with or without a cause. She made no inquiry even after the health of Meredith, which had been hitherto her chief preoccupation, except in so far as was implied in the conventional • How d’you do,’ with which they met. Even he was daunted by the determined indifference of her aspect. • When he talked of the drive which the doctor had suggested to him as a preliminary to getting out on foot, Gussy never lifted her eyes or made the least inquiry. yesterday this step of decided progress would have been the most exciting event in the world to her. She took no notice of it now. There was scarcely anything said at table when they took their midday meal, with a candle or two lit on the mantelpiece, * to add a little cheerfulness,’ as Mrs Harwood said. * For certainly we are not a very cheerful party,’ added the mother, who was more full of life than all the rest put together. She it was who took the lead in the conversation till Gussy retired. She talked to Meredith and a little to Janet, whom this curious aspect of the family interested greatly, though she did not quite understand it But Gussy and Dolff both sat bolt upright and said nothing They ate nothitfg, too, which, perhaps, was a more effectual weapon against their mother’s heart, and when luncheon was over, they separated gloomily, Dolff disappearing no one knew where, Gussy to her room, where she said she had something to do, while Mrs Harwood retired with Meredith between her and whom a curious intimacy seemed to have struck up, to the great drawing-room, his room as it was called, to work there.

In this universal gloom and strangeness Julia drew Janet out into the garden. The day grew darker as it approached its end, the atmosphere became more yellow, signs as of a fog appeared in the air. The governess and the pupil put on their ulsters, and began to walk up and down the garden walks, Julia hanging with all her might upon the arm of her companion, dragging down Janet almost to the ground. ‘ Did you ever know,’ Julia said, * such a -detestable day ?’ ‘ It is turning to fog,’ said Janet, trying to keep to what was commonplace. ‘lt •was better that we did not go out.’ ‘ Oh, was I thinking of the fog?’ said Julia. ‘ I would rather see a dozen fogs than Gussy shut up like that, pursing up her lips as if she were afraid something would drop out when she spoke. And poor Dolff, so dismal, not knowing what to do with himself. Janet, do you think there could'be any truth in all that story about Dolff’’ •My dear,’ said Janet, ‘ how should I have any opinion? I cannot be supposed tb know about your brother, what he is likely to do. ’' ' * Oh,’ said Julia, * I did not ask you what you know, but what you thiiik ; everybody must have an opinion. Besides, after all, it is not so very little that you know about Dolff. He has been at home for six weeks, and you have always seen a great deal of him, at least, lam sure he has always tried to see as much as he could of you.’ ‘I think,’ said Janet, ‘that it is very bad taste for us to discuss people, especially for you to talk with me about your own family. You forget that lam the governess, Julia.’ ‘ I think you are very nasty and not nice at all. Whoever thinks of you as the governess? I wonder what you mean, saying such unkind things.’ . ‘ They are not unkind, they are true. Your mother and Gussy have been very good to me, but ’ ‘ Oh, Janet, when you know we were very fond of you, and we thought you were fond of us !’ Here Janet was suddenly visited by a great compunction which changed at once her countenance and her feelings. ‘ Julia,’ she said, ‘ don’t speak to me. I feel so horrible sometimes, I don’t know what to •do with myself. I don’t think lam nice or good at all. Perhaps,’she added, with a faint revulsion of self-defence after this impulsive confession, ‘it is not quite my fault.’

* I don’t understand you,’ said Julia. * I ask you a question, quite a simple question, and you go oft into reproaching yourself and saying you are not nice. What I want to know is whether you think it was Dolff knocked Charley Meredith down ? If it was, he has not had the strength of mind to stick to it, as I should have done. And what do you think that man meant, who came to identify him, and then said it wasn’t he ? And do you think that man last night really meant anything about Dolff, or did they only pretend to find out about the wing ? And, oh Janet, did you ever know, did you ever suspect anything about the wing? Please don’t run away to other subjects, but tell me what you think.’

‘ Where am Ito begin 1 I can’t answer all those questions at once.’

‘ Oh,’ said Julia with impatience, ‘how tiresome you are to-day ! You don’t want to answer me at all. Do you remember that first night when you heard that cry, and were so fi ightened ? I had heard it before, but mamma told me it was nothing, it was the wind in the empty rooms. One thinks it strange,’ said Julia, * but at first one is stupid, you know, and just believes anything. But you see we were right ; and you needn’t look surprised at all, not even to see mamma walking upstairs, she who never moves. Or, do you think she only pretends not to be able to move, to take us all in?* Julia added, after a pause.

* Oh, Julia, hush! How dare you say such a thing of your mother ?’ * It is because she has deceived ns alrout things,’ said -Julia, hanging he* head. ‘lt was Dolff that said so, not me. She has deceived us in one thing, and how are we to 'believe her in another. Both Dolff and Gussy think so,

though Gussy says nothing ; they think she has kept it secret all this time, and never let even the elder ones know, a < i# C ? n We it i® n °t a deceit about the chair too ?’ If you had seen how she tore herself out of it last night ! It was only her misery and anxiety that gave her power to do it. It is very hard to judge anyone like that. I daresay, said Janet, indignantly, ‘ that the other was done for your sakes, too, not to trouble you, when you were still so y° u with knowing what was a great secret, I suppose ?’ • Ah, but why was it a secret ? and who do you think the man is, Janet? said Julia, clinging ever and ever closer to her arm.

Julia, what have I to do with the secrets of your family? * Why. you aie one of the family,’ said Julia ; * you can’t help knowing ; and again I tell you, Janet, it isn’t what you know, it s what you think I am asking. Why don’t you give me your opinion. Dolff and I, we don’t know what to think/

Dolff himself came huiriedly up behind the girls at this moment. He had not gone out after all. ‘ Why do you trouble Miss Summerhayes, Ju ? It is very interesting for us, but not for—a Stanger.' ‘ That is what I have just been saying, Mr Harwood.’ ‘ Who can’t take any particular interest, except just as a wonder and a thing to talk about, with what happens to us.

Doltf’s hands were thrust to the very bottom of his pockets, his shoulders were up to his ears,'his head upon his breast. Gloom and anger and misery were on Doltf’s face. As for Janet, she had stiffened more and more with every word he said, and Julia, who had been clinging, with all a

child’s affection, to the arm of her governess, felt herself repulsed and detached, she could not tell how, and protested loudly : ‘Janet, because Dolff is disagreeable, that’s no reason for shaking me off!’ ‘ I have no intention of being disagreeable,’ said Dolff walking slowly with them. ‘ I only say what every one must perceive to be the fact. We have all supposed there was a miracle to be performed, and Miss Summerhayes was to think of us as if—as if—she was, as you say, Ju, one of the family ; but she does not feel like that; our affairs are nothing to her, only something that is odd and makes a story to talk about, as they would be to ary other stranger.’ ‘Oh, if you are going to quarrel.’said Julia, ‘you had better get it over between yourselves. I don’t like people who are quarrelling. You had better have it out with him, Janet, and then perhaps he will not be so dreadful as he has been all these days.’

* There is nothing for us to quarrel about. I am, as Mr Harwood says, only a stranger,’ said Janet, endeavouring to hold the girl’s hand upon her arm. But Julia slipped it out and ran indoors, not without a thought that she had managed matters well. Julia had long ago made up her mind that a romantic attachment between Dolff and Janet would add great interest to her own life, ami that the probable struggles of a love that would not run too smooth would Ire very desirable for a young lady to witness. And Dolff, under Janet's influence, had been so much * nicer ’

than Dolff without that. He had stayed at home; he had been ready for anything (though there was always too much of that horrid music), he had not objected even to a round game. It was true that all these domestic pleasures had come to an end since Charley Meredith's accident. But Julia, in her inexperience could not see why they might not come to an explanation and ‘ get over it,’ and everything go on as before.

Janet did not follow her pupil as she would have liked to <lo. She consented to the explanation as it seemed necessary, but she neither hoped nor intended that everything should go on as before. * \ es,’ said Dolff, ‘you are only a stranger, Miss Summerhayes. My mother, I think, took to you as if you had been her own, and everybody was at your feet, but you did not respond—that is to say, you were very kind, and the things you could not help but see, being in the house with us, though we never saw them who belonged to it, you told — as amusing incidents, I suppose, to ” * What did I tell, Mr Harwood ’’ ‘Oh, I have not been taken into any one’s confidence. You gave information you heard him say it—which made a secret meeting necessary, and— all that followed it. One might say,’ said Dolff, with a cheerless laugh, ‘ that everything had followed. I went mad, I suppose, for a little while; and you know as well as Ido what I did. Oh, lam very well aware that you know. You saver! me in your way after you had ruined me. Fellows say that women are like that driving you mad first, and then But I never was one that talked about women—till I knew you.’ ‘ I am very sorry,’ said Janet, ‘ to have given you a bad opinion of women ; but I don’t know why, Mr Meredith ’ Here her voice faltered a little in spite of herself. * Ah !’ cried Dolffliercely. ‘ you have found out that fellow is not worth his salt, yet you could cry when you say bis name.’ ‘lt is nothing of the sort !’ exclaimed Janet. ‘ I cry for any man in the world ! You don’t know me, Mr Harwood. Mr Meredith, I say, walked home a part of the road with me as it was a dark night. There are some men who think that it is a right thing when they meet a lady alone ; and, though I am the governess, I am not very old. I think it very old-fashioned and unnecessary, and I am not afraid to go anywhere alone.’ * You know very well if you had wished for an escort, Miss Summerhayes —’ ‘ Yes, Mrs Harwood would have liked her son to be at the command of the governess ! Mr Meredith walked home with me out of a civility which is old-fashioned, and he stood talking, which it seems is his way—with ladies. A man like that,’ said Janet, almost fiercely, * will never learn that all girls are not alike, and that some detest these old-fashioned ways of being polite. But there was not in all that reason for knocking the man down. 1 supposed when I saw you that you were, perhaps, working out some old quarrel.’ You thought,’ said Dolff grinding his teeth, * that I had watched him then, and flew at him,by premeditation, to take him at a disadvantage, not because I was driven mad to see him holding you by the hands.’ ‘ How could I know one thing or another ’ There was no reason for any one being mad about me ; I can take care of myself without anyone interfering. But I did not want any scandal, I did not want to be mixed up in it; when a girl’s name is mentioned it is always she who gets the whole blame. You know what they say, “ < >h there was a woman at the bottom of it.” Now, I had done nothing wrong, I was not at the bottom of it. Whatever you choose to say, it was no doing of mine.' ‘ One of the things that fellows say,’ said Dolff, ' is that a woman lias always reasons to show she is never wrong.’ ‘ They say everything that is brutal ami cruel,’ said Janet, with a sound of tears in her voice, * and therefore I was determined not to lie mixed up in it, and I did my best to save you from what was—not a very fine action, Mr Harwood. You did take him at a disadvantage. I don’t doubt that you were very angry, though you hail no reason ’ ‘ I f you think it was all for you !’ cried Dolff, transported with boyish passion and anxious to give a blow in his turn. * But to think of that fellow, jeering and laughing at everybody, those who trusted in him—’ ‘ You see,’ said Janet, with a smile, • that I was right when I said I was not at the bottom of it !’ Dolff gave her a look which might have killed her where she stood, had the fire which passion struck even from his dull eyes been effectual, and yet which had in it a strange mixture of love and hate. He was not clever enough, how ever, to note that in Janet’s smile there was a mixture, too, of malicious triumph and of mortification, for, notwithstanding all that she had said, it would no doubt have been more agreeable to Janet’s pride to have been told that the sudden assault was entirely on her own account from fierce jealousy and passion. She was a little girl who was full of reason, and understood the complication of things, yet there was enough of the primitive in her to have been pleased, even had she not fully believed it, by such an asseveration as that.

* In that ease,’ she said, * I don't know what you have to tind fault with in me. I did my best to smooth it all away that nobody might have known anything. What use is there in telling things that are so easily misrepresented ? If it would shock anyone who trusted in him to know that Mr Meredith had walked home with the governess *

• Oh,’ cried DolfF, ‘ yon will drive me out of my senses ! Who calls you the governess. Miss Summerhayes?’ * I do, myself,’ said Janet, *itis my right title. I never have been one of those who despise it ; but if it would vex anyone—who trusted in him—to hear that Mr Meredith had walked home because it was dark and late with the—’ ‘ You are-anxious to defend Meredith,’ said DolfF, bitterly.

*AmI ?’ cried Janet. There was a dart out of her eyes at that moment that was more jtowerful than any dull spark that could come from Dolff s. *lf I am,’ she added, with a laugh, ‘it is only for the sake of those who, as you say, trusted in him, Mr Harwood. For me, I find those old-fashioned ways of his intolerable. He is like a man in an old novel,’ cried Janet, * who kisses the maid and gives her half-a-crown, and is what he calls civil to every girl. It is eighteenthcentury—it is mock Lovelace—it is the most antiquated vanity and conceit. And he thinks he takes people in by it, which shows how foolish and imbecile it is, besides being the worst taste in the world !’ Dolfl' stared open-eyed at this tirade. He had a faint idea that Lovelace meant a seductive villain, but what Meredith had to do with the eighteenth century, or how he was old-fashioned, this young man devoid of literature, understood not at all. He did understand, however, that Janet was angry with Meredith and this went to his heart. The dull yellow sky began to look a little clearer. It became a possibility that things might brighten, that a new world might arise, that these misty shadows might blow away. ‘ If I could think,’ he said, ‘ that you ever could forget all this, Miss Summerhayes. I heard you taking my mother’s part with Ju, anti you are thinking of Gussy, who doesn’t deserve it very much, perhaps, and you have saved me, for I never could have faced it out but for what you said to me —though I have seemed so ungrateful—and if you think it possible that we could all forget what has happened—in time ’ * No,’ said Janet, ‘ I think there are several things in it which neither you nor I could ever forget.’ ‘I am not so sure,’ said Dolff. ‘lt would depend upon you. If you would promise never to see or speak to ’ ‘Whom?’ said Janet, rising several inches out of her shoes, and looking down upon him with a glance that froze Dolff; and then she added interrogatively, ‘ For you ?’ and, turning round upon her heel, walked away into the house without a glance behind. (TO BB CONTINUED.