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D/ay, 57 OHARLaXTB SWEt. 18TT. ■ArftaMMta r A " *tB«.f« "~wS*ili4# -ft':- * vv, ^'^..^-.aS RA B PRINTE] A THE 61 9, lS RANDCHILDREN. BY NENA C. RICKESON. ST. JOHN, N. B. PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY GEO. W. DAY, 67 Charlotte Street. 1876. THE ( ; TiiK n.\ be <:i'an«l i d house w ats. Thcr l)i'illiiiiifv oil of J»<Mtl U^d hi'illi •e uiis a es ill jiU'U ^Ifainin^ glittt'iin attes. ])eai I" short tli its of a ;rri Viis ch-ve 9ty was at asf)ni. tir«'( crash of ing mazfs g;<'ntlHmai W'tiior in t d, tlic lioa <leli>;htfu iOiiy. :. was (.)cti ^-liko at II lay warm now artoo J Vf'llow j])<Mlin ix'i asional oj ^ts of iTohl llin^ surfa "AVliat a 1 i«ing, to t> ii in there, 1, fii'shair (fii^fi Chess tthe seat ennductc ,^,-*v"»- X 'v^ vyN/ ('HAITKH I. TIIK HA I.I, \T MAPLKMNHd). be ;;:i'an«l n-coptioii i-ooms at Miijd*'- (1 house \vi>j'<' throii^t'd with ck^^ant uts. There was evervwhere a ia<li- l)rilliaiiey of li^rhts — a (h-licious j>er- 011 of peit'unie. From tl»e oicliestra it'd Itrilliant, entrancing nnisie : ■e was a soft niiirnier of niiiijzh-il es ill jtU'Usant chat and hiu^rhter — ^h'anihi^ of rich silken <h'a]>eries, •.'htteiing ot costly gems — rich attes. ])(^autifiil women, elegant men I sliort there was all the a[>[)oint- its of a grand soiree. Viis eleven o'clock, and the whirl of 9ty was at its height, when (Jlencora asfim. tired of the glitter of lights. crash of gay nitisic, and the hewil- ing mazes of the dunce, ju-rmitte*! g;entleman, with whoju she had heen Wtner in the last wait/, to lead her rl the heat of the daiu-ing-ntom to delightfully cool (juietude of the iOiiy. :;. was Octoher, and the soft, hazy, ^dike atmosphere, which had l)een iay warm and golden with sunlight. now atlood with silvery moonlight. ! yellow tinted coppices lay <'n- }l)edin {X'lfect stillness: liut through asional o])enings Hashed sjiarkling ^ts of gohU'ii light from the softly lling surface of tlje Thames. AV'hat a lovely niglit ! au<l what a i^ing, to escape h'om the barbarous 4 in thei-e, out into this delighthilly I, frt'shair." ^i^'s Chessom said this as she sank tthe seat to whicli her camiianion con<hacted her. \'ery charming was this suj»erlily beautiful heiress, (ilencora ''hessom, grand-daughter of I'liilij) < 'hi-ssom. the wealthy liondon hanker, and entei-tainer of thisgay )>arty at Maplewood. She was a splendid brunnette : black glossy coil- ing hair, brilliant, liquid, lestless. dark eyes — rich tinting of <'ream and <'i'imson — an evening tf.'ilette of pure white crepe over a sliinimering train of gold- coloi'cd satin,— with elal)orate. yet ox- <|uisite, gold ornaments, richly set with costliest })earls, upon her neck and arms, ami in her ears. Her rich, shining dark hair was arranged in a regal style that well became her — a ])arure ol" ]>cail> glist<'ning among the jetty coils, Sliewas bt>antiful and iascinatiiig, and though there was nothing of Madonna- like loveliness in her tiiir leatiires, there was a great deal <»f liewiti'hing bright- ness and tii'illiance. and a charming vivacity and ]>i<|uan<'y in her manner. She was a born co(|uette: and just the sort of woman with whom, out of a hun- dred men, ninety-an<l-nine would lall madly in love. To-night she was more than usually Hiichaiiting ; and it was evident that the handsome gentleman who )iow seated himself by her side, was fai- h-om being indiftV'rent to hei- charms. *' I am so awfully warm I" said tlie young lady, fluttering her fan vigorously. "Do look I There's that ugly little I'ose Castlemaine leaning on Lord<'roft- nil's arm. Hose. inde<'d ! what a name for her. to l)e sure. Resembles nuu'h more one uf those yellow mapl<^ leaves lying out yonder, llideuus, isn't she ;, ' Ah, here ccoaes the stately Miss Wil- 5ai4t> 77/A' HANKK/rS ajiANnri/ILnh'KK, loiighln!" ainl tin' I'ijx' lips of th^ hoir- CHS c'lrlcd (•()iitt'i>i|»tuoiisly. 'riif youti-.' Imly tlius alludcM to pic- x'litly passed hy. Icaniti;: on th<' aim of tiM' yoim;.' I'"it'ii(li ("omit D«'Chollis. Ilcrs was a rarely Itcautifiil lace — very dirt'crciit in contour from th«^ face of <iloncora Chcssoin: it lacked the ex- pression of arrogant hauteur which eharact<'ri/,ed the jx-rfectly moulded featui'e> of that y«»uii^' lady ; l»ut it was u lair, lovely face, full of pure, sweet womanliness, with ^'reat dark eyes, in whose (rlear depths shone such minijleil pride, passion, and sweetness, .'^he was attired in soft Heecy white, over jiale ' l)lue, drapeil with hows of ])al(i ))lue Hh- { hon, and clusters of ajiple hlossoms and ' pink geraniums. It was a simjde, inex- 1 l.eiisive toilette, and yet it couhl scarce- 1 Iv hav(^h<'en more ev(|nisite tluni it was. She was very, very pretty to-Jiifiht : and ■ even the hau<-'hty <ilencora could not hut admit tlu" fact inwardly, and a pang I of |ii(|Ut'(l jealousy, such as all cociuettes experience when they hehold the love- liiK^ss of another wftmana(huired hyone of the opposite sex, passed through that organ which the fair Ulencora designat- e<l her heart, as slu' heheld tlu' eyes of lier companion follow, with admiring gaz<^, the girl's slender, graceful figure. "Miss VVilloughhy is very l)eautiful." remarked Mr. Waldegrave. who, though much charmed hy his haiidsoim' cousin, was not yet so deeply enamour«'d as to he unahle to admire a swoettM'. if not a more hrilliant face. •• Yes, if one hai)pens to fancy the milk iiiid-water style of loveliness: L don't admire it myself," said (ilenc<jra with a laugh. '* I see she is ))rai'tising h(U\wiles ujton the young Frenchman. DeChellis. at j(i-esent: an hour ago she was striving to captivate my cousin. Wliat vast fun it must have heen for you to watch her airs, < 'ousin Bertram. Of course you saw how determined she was upon making a eompiest?'" " My fair cousin. I was not sufficiently vain to suppose anything of the kind," said Mr, Waldegrave. " Indeed, she treated me with a carelessness of man- uey which I thought almost amounted to indifference," added he I '' She most jirohably thought that the surest method of driving you to love- making!" sai<l (ileiicora with one of her dazzling hright smiles. Now Bertram Waldegrave was fast falling in love with his charming cousin, who showed such flattering preference for his society: liut her -arcastic re- marks concerning the beautiful Mahel Willoughhy annoyeil, and half angei-ed him. Ife luul heen in Mahel \Villoughhy"s society hut a few times, although lie had now heen sto];pingat Maplewoo<l nearly a month ; hut somehow h(^ had a dim idea that there was that in lier grace- ful, interesting conversation, hav merry smiles and i'ipi)ling laugliter, capable of leaving an impression upon his mind, after they were over, infinitely i)leasent- er than could all (ilencora's llattenng words and enchanting smiles. He stooped to pick up the fan which liis cousin had accidentally let fall to the floor, as he answered. " Possibly, but not probably,'' he said. " In l)ehalf of my vanity, 1 should be delighted to admit that you ai'e I'ight ; but, in justice to the young lady, I must say that 1 think you are mistaken." An angry gleam flashed for a moment in (tlencora's black eyes, but she smiled gaily as she answei'e(l : " You don't understand her. my dear cousin. Like the geneiality of milk- sops. Miss Willoughby is very deceiving. Having been l)orn poor, and brought up dejjendant ujjou the bounty of others, may perhaps be a reason for her merce- nary ambition ; but any how, if she <loesu't niake a. brilliant match some day, it will not he her own fault. The way she angled for Sir Digby Desmond last season, not to mention a score of others, was a caution ! But never mind the Willoughby's. Do tell me about that excpiisitely elegant <\)unt DeBriu- ton who is here to-night. Such magnifi- cent eyes! Oh, his lieauty is heavenly !" " I have but a slight ac(juaintance with him," answered Waldegrave. "1 met him something o\er a year ago in Paris, and only once since then — a few weeks ago — at a dinner at the ' Norwich.' He ih immensely wealthy, 1 believe.'" "And a perfect Adonis!" said GleM- ;-,,***' rilK JiAXKEirs GUAXIXllILDnKX. cora. And they chattered gaily on, upon a doztMi frivolous toj»ics luitil Gleneora said. '' Tome along, h't us go in ; dancing will licgin jirosently. I seo my spoony admiivr, Mr. Thurston, coming this way, in search of us. I presume I have promised him mv hand for this waltz. He is my devoted slave, I nssure you — i-eady to fall down and worship me. at any time. Oh. he's immense fun !"' and < rlancora laughed. A moment later they were in the hall- room, and the spoony Thurston was claiming the fair hand of CUeucora for the dance. They went off together, and Bertram WalcU'grave walked over to where Mabel Willoughhy was seated. " Will you favor me witli your hand for this waltz, Miss Willoughhy?" he asked, and the next moment 5fahel.'s graceful little figure was in his arms, and they were whirling 'round in the bril- liant waltz. '' How lovely she is 1" was the .softly breathed whis])er that pervaded the ball-room. Glencora said nothing, but her rest- less V)lackorbs flashed,and her coral lips, curled in scornful contempt. When the second waltz was over, tlie elegant DeBrinton, who seemed to Hit, butter-fly like, around all the fairest Hovvers, niatle his way to Miss ("hessom, soliciting her liand for the third. (Uen- cora wrote down liis name, and after a few moments merry convei-sation the Frenchman remarked : " How exquisitely beautiful Miss Wil- loughhy is. My friend Df ( 'hellis is madly in love with her already — raves about her terribly, and no wonder, she is so charming, so ingenuous. En passant, she is your cousin, is she not?"' Glencora gave her haughty head a little disdainful toss. " Nothing of the khid," she answered. "■ Her people were connected in a very remote degree with my mother's family; but how, 1 realy never took the trouble to find out." *' Ah, I understand,"' said Monsieur leCounte, adroitly, "you and Mademoi- selle are really no relation at all, only A very distant connexion. Shall we sit in tiie l)alconv until the di Im' gins — it is coolei'.''. ( >n the biilcony they discovered Mai»el and WaMcgiave seated in one of the cushioneil scats, and engaged in plea- sant conversation. <ii«'ncora's bliicU eyes flashed aj^'ain, l)eneath the soft white lids that fluttered dver them; but she smiled da/zlingly, uttei-eil a few jesting woi'ds to JJertram, and glanced with a carelessness that was contemptuous at Mabel. Monsieur bowed gracefully to the lat- ter, nodiled with polite familiarity to the former, and the twain passed on. The next moment another lady and gentleman passed, at a little distance from where 5label and Waldegrave were seated ; this time, it was .larvi« Ches som — (ilencora's handsome, graceless brother — and a sentimental <lamsel lean- ing on his arm, with whom, judging from his ardent glances, and softly mur- mured words, it was evident ho was desperately flirting. He was twenty-two, and tjuite desei-v- ing of tlu« rejiutation which he had already obtained of being fast ;"' l>ut wa> handsome, fascinating and wealthy, and therefore consitlered a splendid "catch," among the " manceuvreing mammas" and "marriageable <laughters.'' " What a sad scapegrace cousin Jarvi>^ has grown up,"' said Waldegwive, his eyes I'esting upon young Chessom's face, which was becoming somewhat flusherl with rather liberal wine-drinking. Mabel looked also at the handsome, cai'eless face which i)lainly bore the marks of dissiiiation. and a sorrowful sluule flitted for a moment over her fair features as she answered : " Yes, and I'm sorry for it. The reck- lessly wild course which he is of late pursuing is not fiidy dei-ogatory to him- self but a ceaseless som-ce of trouV)le and anxiety to Mr. Chessom. " Do you know," she went on, " that his inex- haustable patience with all of Jarvis' mad freaks and caprices make it seem almost incredible that he could ever h.ive been so implacably .stern and un- lorgiving toward his own son." " The death of that son,"' said Walde- grave, "although his anger with him had been so deep, was a heavy blow to tt THE //.i.v A' /•;/.'■> (;i>'.\M><iiii.i>i!i'y- iMiflc l'Iii!i|.. and -I'l-xi >i iiiiitli tit^nltcii tilt- <'<»I(l |>iiilt' Mini iron stfrniH'^x <»!' Iiis flllll'iictt'l'. Il<' l>itti'l-|\ li';ilfttr(l liis llill«lllli'ss. W lifli toolutr; illl< I t ll'' iHlly HtoiiriUfiit wliicli lie rim iii>\v ull'i r tof the past, is the lavi-li wraith and aU'i-t- linti wliicli lie lic-tows niioii tln' widow and fhildicn of Iii> <iin." I'i't'scntiv (In- tnnv«'i'sati(»ii tui-nt-d ii|M)ii ( ilcncora. '" Dn yfiii know," said \\'aldi';riavi', " that she is so clianircd I can scaii-fly l>clirvt' \u'v to 111- tin- sanu' littlf cli wlioni I ns<'d to call 'Cousin (iK-nnir." 'onu' twclvf years a;:o. I it-nn iuIm'I' -pt-ndinii sc\t'ial weeks at .Maplewodd. when al'Otit eleven years of i\<H', and a cinMoiis time we had of it. <ilennieand I were i'eeoinitin,i;oin' .juvenile hattles — an<l they were inunerous — last evi'uin^'. • lai'vis was usually too imlolent to quar- rel mueli."" ^fahel lau^rhed. "(ilencora has ^i-own very heautiful durin;.' those years, lias she not?" said Walde^'rave. Spite ot her ealni <lenioanor there was a ^'ood deal of hittei'Uess and wounded pride in Muhel's jioor little iieart as she unsweif(l. She had not failed to j)er- eeive the ilisdaiiiful (■onteni])t in <ilen- eora's eyes a few moments heibro, noi' hail she for^'otten how that young lady a few ev<Miinjrs pi'evious, hacl.in t!ie i^'o- >one(» of several .iruests, Mr. Waldegrave amon;i them, snuhhi'd her with polite rudeness, to use a }>!a'ado.\it'al ))hraso. Slie raised her lovely dark eyes, and found those of her c'omi»anion bent upon her. Slie knew that lie could not liave failed to jxM'ceivi' the sui)ercilious light in Miss ('hessom's eyes: was ,'ortain that he knew how cordially she and that young lady disliked each other. Most likely, slu' thought. < ilencora liad told him. as she had told many others, how enviously jealous she was of hei- wealth and beauty, and now he was desirous of hearing what spiteful re]»ly she would make to his remark. A little flush mantled her white forehead as the thought crossed her mind, hut she said calmly enough — "Yes. (ilencora is heautiful. certain- ly.'" She then quietly changed the sub- j,.ct by rcuiarkiug. a^ Mi» Castlemaine. with some gentleman, passeil by. •'Mow pale Mi«s ('astlemaine look> tonight. Thi- i- tlie tir-tenti'rtaijnnent of any kind which -he has been able to attend since her recent illness. She scarcely ieseml>le> her former self, so wan, s() thin : -he wa- really very pt' ity before that dieadilll level'." ''Oh, then she lia> been ill. which ac- count- for hei- :.aIlow iialciiess," said Waldi'grave. " I think herpietty, even now : Init (llennie. who was mentioning her a few monient< ago. think- she is hide<ais." •' IJecause ( ilencora so thoivtugltly ili-- likes her." said Mabel, calmly. Mr. Waldegrave laughed slightly, and asked carelessly : " Why does (llennie so much dislike her. pray? She looks (|uite amiable." .\labei looked at him iniietly. and re- j)Iied gravely — " I am sm-e I cai.Mot tell you. Sir, un- less for the reason tha" Miss ( astleinaine happens t(» be giulty of possessing a heart wiiicli is nobly generous and frank. But it is time for me to go in," she added. As \\'aldegrave could not dance the next with ^label lie would fain have I'emained seated ujton the flower-gar- lande<l balcony. Avith her beside him. Tie was interested in her. for she was inteicsting, and he liked h«r, spite of the haughty Miss Chessom's warnings. They had just arisen, and Mr. Walde- graAe was saying, '* Allow me to accom- l)any you to the blue -itin room ;" for it was there Mabel had pt...mised the gen- tleman wlut was next to wait/ with her, that he should find lier when the (hmc- ing begun, when two gentlemen came toward them uttering some lighth' spoken remai'ks. The elder of the two was Philip ( "hessom, the master of ^laplewood — the younger, Ernest Willoughby, Mabel's brother, and the only one on earth with whom the ]>oor i-hild could claim any real relationship. Philij) (.'hessom's face was one ex- pressing noble, generous kindliness. There were lines of care around the handsome, ph-asaiit inoutli, and the sil- very cuiliiiir locks clustereJ about a 77/ H II . I \- A' /•;/.'• V iiirwnciiiLit /.• t: \ . 'trow tliMi ^vii- (|tM|(|y hiii'twril. At; tiint'.- tlifif wii- a cjirrwoin. wciua lunkl in the luild ^rniy •y<-«i; Imt Im- uiih evi-r gonial ami <•! it'iil. I hi r- tin;; litrtli i >om»'tiiii<->.. iiitii iilino^l lioyisli hilarity. EriK'si \Villon;.'lil'.\ wa- iwfiity-twit | V«'ar> ol' a^'t.' and a jn rl'ci'i -iHMinifn i»| handsoiuf yinitlitiil lunnlinoil. Hi- lea , turc." wiTc r.'^'iilai- and Hindy foiinrd. j TlirM'c wa< a liidk <»t'i|nict Hi iniH'-N aliunt | t)n' cK-ai" (lit |ilta«ant nioutli. with it- i >ilkf'ji (•l»c«<ttnit nioustarhc- a fiaid<. j ;.'»'nial M^'lit !: thf dark ;ria\ ••,vi>. Hvci' tho widf, • tf forehead chi-'ered a' niuM ••renrh"ii<f cheKtnnt liair. It was a j>rii.,d. n<;hle. liand-ionie head. In <ta llM-e lie was <Ii;,'litly a'xtve tlie iiiediiini— Hicnder. hilt strongly and athletiely hnilt. A\\<\ siich a man a- one in^tine- livfdy leel< to he trank and honoialile. nohle and generous. They stood gaily ehatting for a few >t'(!onds. then Waldograve l«^d Mahel ivway, comliK.'tin.ir hci- through the throng, to the ' ! • satin room, to which Mr. PoI<don was just comin z in search of her. 1 tram loft her hy his side, and tlien Went to lounge in fine of the how windows, and watch th<' walt/eis: he did not wish to daiu'e just then himself. (ilencora whirled ])ast in the arm^ of tin-, elegant French roiint : W'aldegrave looko«l at her. and thought how hiil- liant and fascinating she was. and then his i'ye«: wandered from her to tlie graceful, syljihdike figure of Mahel as she glided i)a>t with Charlie I'olsdon. ''Truly," murmured PxMlram, *'<he is lovely I *B'autiful as a jioet"^ dieam," as a novelist wouM say."" Then he fell to comparing her matcli- lessly lovely face with those of the other richly attired helles that thronged tlie gaily lighted dancing- room. Philip Chess'jni and yoimg Willoiighhy stood conversing togethei- for a lew mo- ments after ]\rahel and Waldt^giave had ^one, then they parted. The wealthy hanker l<»oked after his handsome «'leik until his figure was hidden from sig'.it as he entered the hall-room, then he leaned against one of the giant marble ])illars and looked out over the dew wet lawn. " He is a noV)Ie, true-hearted lad." murmured the old banker. •• WouUl to hea\ en that .larvi« pr»s>e.<.>ed half .^tii h honoialije. high -.ou|e(| integiit\ a>-his !"" There was a drear\ look in the eyes of till' master of Maplewood, a sorrow till droop to the pleasant nioiith : he stood thus |(»r a few moments. th<n drove llie ti<>ul.|( d look out of his lace, and turned lowai'd the house. .\ few mo- ment- later he was ^landing, -miling with >ile,|.anl iirl>anil\ . in the midst f»r hi> ^.. .ts. The hoiir^ glideil liy with l»ewitching mu>ie and ))lea>ant mirth, dancing and m ■rriment : and at la-t the brilliant ( he-i-om ball elidccl. There was pleasant confusion, a polite tumult of gay parting words, and then the host of gimsts departed. Then there >v; ; the putting onto! lights, the dosing I idoors and windows, and the gj-eat ho (-e was wrapt in si- lence. ClLM'TKh II. " Wiiiif- 1 thnt 1 iiiiKiit nciill them — Tlw luvM the I" r, ilu" i|<):i(l. W'inifs I rhiit 1 luiirht Hv niter T ".e pii.-'t IniiK viM;i hull. Philip ( "he-som was standini; in one ol the great windows that fronted the wide lawn at Maplewood. a few morn- ing- sllb<e(|Uent to the gay < 'hessom fete. The scene, gloriously lov<dy. sjtread out in all its peaceful perfe* t beauty, befoic the admiring ga/e of the master of Maplewood. lie had looked at it thoils- an<ls oi times before: lait it was charm- ing to him now, in the golden dawn- light of the (tetolief day, as it had been tiity years ago, when a little lioy he had ga/ed w ith such chihiish admiiation at the same sparkling, rippling, river, oi wandered tarelessly jiajipy through the great jiiirk and <hady woods of his an- cestral home. Leaningagain<t tin-heavy oaken case- ment, m the fiuiet of the eaily moiii- ing, with no sound breaking the still ness, save the twitter of birds as the\ Hiifcd among the branches of the giant oaks and majile. — with the faint bree/ es wafting delicious odors fWtm the gay Hower-beds in the great garden, and the sun slowly rising in the ruddy flushing (»f the east, flooding the earth, an<l the shimmering ciystal liver. with golden I 111 <>: 9 THE BANKER'S GKANDCUILDREN. light, Philii) riiessom lost himself in (IroHiny rotrospect. Bt.'tbre j>roeee(liiiy; fuither, l(;t us lay hofore our ivaders a brief sketch of the past five and twenty years of the rich banker's life. It was just such a .lune-lu-e October daj' as was now <lawning on wliidi, twenty-tive years ago, the banker had stood at that same library wiiidow, watcliing, with stern jtride and stormy anger battling back the faint struggles of remorse in his heart, the lithe, manly figure of his only son, then a bright, handsome youth of twenty, as he rock- down the great avenue of arching trees, through the heavy iron gates, and away from the home of his ancestors forever. It was the old story — an ardent, youth- ful, passionate love — a mesalliance — a a father's curse and ilisinheritance. Truly Leigh Chessom had acted rash- ly anil wrongly in t'landestinely marry- ing, at the age of twenty years, tlie i)en- niless, unknown Grace VV'indham ; but then he was, with all his geneorous, boy- ish heart, in love with the pooi-, pretty music-teacher, and was well aware that to ask the tronsent of his proud father, to their vmion, would be something worse than useless. To wait— the fair, fragih^ Grace toiling the meantime as a dailj teacher for hei- livelihood — was not to be thought of: so they were mar- ried, Leigh assuring himself that, though his fiitliei- would, in all i)robability, be furious at first, he would, when aware that his anger could not st?parate them, or annul the sacred ties which bounil them together, relent, and that, eventu- ally, he should be permitted to bring his fair young wife to dwell at Maplewood. But the stormy anger of the banker was not .so short-lived, and he sternly renounced the bright, handsome, manly young fellow whom, hitherto, he had so proudly owned as his son, sending him adrift penniless, sav<! the very limited income which descen<led to him from his mother, wlm had died in his infancy. But Leigh was brave an«l courageous, and diligently industrious withal, and i obtaining a situation as clerk in a Lon- don banking house, on Threadneedle istreet, he went resolutely to work. For five years he toiled manfully, tiresome and monotonous though his occupation was : then he grew restive. The Austra- lian gold fever was at that period raging, and crowded ships bound for the colo- nies were daily leaving the great metro- polis, while tliose returning, brought with them ([uantities of gold, and glow- ing reports from the great mining re- gion ; and Leigh Chessom, with his love of adventure and his determination to of possess himself of some of the vast wealth wliich the colonial gohl mines were daily yielding, left England to en- dure the* liar(lshii)s and i)rivations of the Australian diggings. Philip <'hessom, glancing down the columns of the morning paper ])eheld, among the list of emigrants who had taken passage on board the steamer (Tladiator, the name of his son. During all those five years he had not before heard of Leigh or his whereabouts. Foi' months his i)ride alone had kept him from tlie regret which he ex- perienced for his i)ast harsli sternness ; and the same pride prevented him from making any inquiries concerning the alien ; and his friends,fearful of a repulse from the cold, proud man, liked not to give information unasked. But now the big bright drops sprang to the banker's eyes, as they rested on the name of his banished son; and com- punctious feelings mingled with the old iri'ei)ressible love for the geniel, gay- voiced young fellow, of whom he had once been so fond, filled his heart. It would be long years perhaps ere he would come back — he might never re- turn. Someliow a foreboding haunted him, that he never would, but he thrust it aside, telling himself that he would come back ere long, and then they woul<l let bygones Ije bygones, and the past should be forgiven and forgotten ; and Leigh should come back to Maplewood and bring with him his wife, who, if poor, was at all events of respectable par entage, being the daughter of a gentle- man, who during his Hfe had been wealthy and highly respected. Some three months later Mr. Ches- som again beheld in the Times the name of the emigrant ship Gladiator. It was the steamer in which Leigh had sailed for Australia, and he read eagerly on. ^J?hhisoccupatio„ '^"t period rai/in^ ";;;;' '-t'-?i%: ^'•^^ination to of ■^"giand to en- '■'^'•itionsoftho "ig <io\vii tJlf. '-^nts who J,acJ *"« steamej- ''^^n- During, f^^ not hcfov^ sabouts. Foj- f^iich he e^. f sternness : '^|:'»n^' tho "^'^I'opulse Jked not to -But now ig to the ^^' on tho »nd com- *h the old ^n-el, gay- ^ "e ha(J sait. ps THE nAXKKR'S GRANDCHILDHEN 9 iia e e y - ere Jio lever re- 'aunted thrust ^vouJd ^vouh? "e past " ; Bind ^ewood fpoor, e par- been »ies- lame was liled on. The article Avas a brief account of the ravagi's which a malignant, infectious fever had maile on board that vessel, and contaiuf^d a list of the names of the victims. Philij) Chcssom read among them that of his son, and then fell, white and senseless from his chair. Leigh was dead! and to the bereaved fathei- the hauntnig recollection that he had diiven his son irom him with a cruel curse, made the great blow all the bit- terer — all the harder to be borne. Dead I and the mutual forgiveness and reconciliation of wliich he had tlreamed for the past few months, could never be given now or received. Alas : "Is fherc >u\yer a chink in the worM above V\ here they listen fi r wnnU from below 7" The rich banker would have given all his wealth — half the remaining years of his life even, if only Leigh could have heard and answered the passionate cries for forgiveness which rose so hopelessly from his burdened heart. But he must make what reparation lay in his povvei-, he told himself, an<l that was to find Leigh's wiijovv, and his chihlren, provid- ed any had l)een born, and were still living, and lavish upon tliem the love and wealth from which Leigh hims(dfha<l been banished. A year passed, and he could find no- thing of his son'n widow until one day, in answer to an advertisement in the Times, he i'e(!ei\ed a letter from her. .She was residing in a dingy little board- ing house in one of the London suburbs, and he immediately called upon her, anil was shown all necessary proof of her legal marriage with his son. She had two children, she informed Mr. Ches- som, who w'ere residing with a womaii who had once been a nurse of her own, and who lived at a place some twenty miles distant ; a>id with them were the orphan chiUh-en of the step-sistei', the widow of a young artist, who had died nearly a year befoie. This step-sister, Mrs. Ohessom informe<l the banker, was the daughter of a widower, Captain Islington, who had married her mother, who was herself a widow, and being vvilil aufl extravagant had mannged to squan- der nearly every penny of her fortune before his death, which took [dace some few months previous to that of her mother, ller step- father's daughter had married on the same day upon whicli she became the wife of Leigh Chessom, a young artist. Earnest Willougliby who was accidentally killed a few months after the birth of their second child. Mrs. Willoughby was a fragile delicate little creature, and died of heart disease a few months later, so the care and sup- poit of the little orphans, Earnest and Mabel, as well as that of her own child- ren devolved upon Mrs. Chessom, who was now a widow herself, and earned a livelihood by teaching music. This in brief is the history which Mrs. Chessom related to her father-in-law. Poor she certainly was, but no ignor- ant, untutored creature — this young widow of r^eigh Chessom ; instead, sh<' was a beautiful, well-bred woman, with a queenly air of proud imperiousness that suited well her dark, brilliant loveliness. Yet she was not such a woman as th.- banker would have supjiosed his son to have chosen for his bride. Tie had imagined that she might be a slight, ftiir-haired, gii-lish little creature, with a world of clinging, loving tender- ness shining out of big, silken-fringed blue eyes ; but not a tall, dark beauty, with the full, jterfect form of a.Juno,and the proud air of an empress. It was no won;'.er that Leigh had loved her, he thought, for she was beautiful, witli a fascinating charm about her that was irresistable — ituleed, he was himself delighted with her. So Mrs. Chessom an<l her two children — the Jarvis and (ilencora whom we have already intro- duced to oui' rcadei's, were removed from their dingy lodgings to the luxuri- ous, palatial residence of the banker at Twichenham, with its beautiful, exten- sive stretch of grounds, finely laid out an<l cultivated — its quaint, picturesque combinations of ancient and modern architecture, and its j)leasant pervasion of ease and luxury, and magnificent splendor. And the orphan children of Earnest and Agatha Willoughby, were well caied for and educated, at the ex- pense of the master of Maplewood. The years passed on and the cousin.^, if we may so call them, grew up to man and womanhood. Jarvis the indolent, handsome, half dissipated young gentle- 10 77/A; BAXKJ'JR\'< GILiNDCUlLDliEK. l\ mnii of t'asliioii, whom \\v havo already (lesorilxMl. Gloiicora, beautiful, way- ward, c'0(|Ut'ttish and hoartloss, with moro than Ijtr mother's loveliness, and a oharmin<: air of hiight piijuancy that was v<'ry Ix-witchini:. Earnest Willou^u'hby wc have already described to our readei's. andMabh — sweet sylph- like little .May — we eanoidy 2)()rtray her as a sli«rht,^'raeeful. golden-haii.Ml little damsel, with wavy masses of luxuriant bronze-brown hair, and lovely rose-leal tintintr, and tlie dee])est of jiurple blue eyes which told her tlu)U<.dits as plainly as could her pretty little rosy moutli. A year j>revious to the ]»resent time of writintr, Earnest Willoughby, who had then Just completed his tweiity-tirst yeai', entered as cl«>rk Philip (.'hessom"s sireat liOndon banking house on Lombard street; and Mabel, who ha<l spent the most of her lite, when not at Madame DeChellis' Parisian seminary lor youn<; ladies, with Mrs. Mays, an elderly widow whom Mis. ( 'hessom ha< 1 installed as her guai-dian and chaperone at Ambleside — a pretty Westmorelajxl town, romantidy situated amonix lofty mountains— came to dwell at Mai)lewood, to bo petted by Mr.('hessom, who eoul<l scarcelv have de(;ided whether he was most Ibnd of his grand children or his proteges: to l)e carelesslv, biU not unkindly treated by Mrs. ('hessom : to be dt>signated by ' heedless Jarv. " a tiji-top little girl :"" and to be I'ordially disliked andsnub])ed by haughty Tilencora. <'IIA1TER ill. ! TUK K(iri:sTKlA\ I'Ain-V. i Looking vacantly at the scene of silent \ loveliness outspread l)eioie him with the ' golden morning sunlight Hooding his ' tigure and lidling softly on his silvery ' bowed head, J'hilip Chessom was still absorb(>d in meditation, when a stej* be- ' hind him, and the genial, spirited voice | of Earnest Willoughby roused him fromj his reverie. 'i'he shadf)w passed from: his face as he lookc^l up, beliolding his clerk advancing with his pleasant lively ' greeting toward him. " j " (iood morning lad," answered he ; | •'it looks like the begimiing of a tine' day yonder, doesn't it ?" he added: |>ointing eastward. Earnest leaned against the casement, and taking an admiring survey of the scenery answered by remai'king, '• What a si)lendid jjicture it is !'' '' I i)resume you are to make one of the ecpxestiian jiarty which the young jteoplc were proposing yesterday?" asjvcd the banker. '• 1 think not,'' said Willoughby;" iny engagement at Islington will iirevent.'" "But you can j)Ostpone it." •'That would be scarcely worthwhile : besides, I am not ])articidarly desin)us oi' going." Mr. < "hessom smiled. '' ]\rost young fellows are desirous of going almost any- where where tliere is certain to be a li.'vy of beautiful ami wealthy girls." X <iuaint little smile rippled beneath VV'illoughl)y"s chestnut moustache. •'My deiir sir," he said dryly; " I am fai' from bi-ing indifferent to the en- chanting loveliness <tf those sam(^ beau- tiful and wealthy girls ; but which one of them do you sui)pose would care a, sixi>ence whether EariK^st Willoughby, the needy clerk, joined their gay party, remained at home, or took a cab, and a solitary ride to Islington?'' The banker answered smilingly, ''And yet t!!(> fair portion of our gue.sts do not seem at all to dislike you.'' " IGasily accoimted "for," laughed Wil- loughby : " 1 can ride well and dance and sing and play ami jtahit, all pass- ably ; besides it was only the other even- ing I chanced to heai' Miss Lochsley de- claring to her friend Miss Chesley" that if I were only more -jolly" like' your grandson, or that Vsui)urb' Col. Vivian, I would make a ' sj)lendid Hirtee.' I might." lie added saicastically " liave been somewhat Hatteivd, and even striven to enmlate the witticisms of that limii esprit the ■ supurb' Colonel ; but my better sense reminded me that, though Trissi,- Locksley and blaChesley might deem me a passing 'Hirtee,' theV would raise their ))retty eye blows iii polite amaze, were 1 to essay turning the meaningless flirtation into "serious love- making. Whereas if Jarvis or Col. Vivian wck^ to do the same thing they would be simply in exstacy." " \our oi)inion of our fair friends isn't exactly calculatoil to i.ropagate one's ;^t Hie easemont ,^f,;;"rvoy of the to make one of 77//; BA\KK/,'S (iRAXI)L'l[lL1>RKS. 11 It." Iv /vortl, ,vj,i],. . "^^^'•^y (los/,,,,,.: ''^losi yo(,„,, '.^ahuostanv': 'an, to I.e'n '''•''' l^t'noatJi iNuieJie. to tlie en- ^sani(, I,enu- t "'"leli one yij;' ''ai-e a Afay J)ai-ty, cab, and a i^'Iy, '•And ^^tH do not ^'''ed WiJ. 1'' danpo all ])a.s.s- liei-even- Jisley dp. .^J'^'y that "t; yoiu- ^'ivian, I'teo.' / " Iiavt^ <l (Men i«in.s of 'oJonoI ; ie tiiat, 'iie.sl(>y ■on-,s iJ) 'ig tho ■* iove- • Col. r thoy I isn't one'.s I'aith in tliogontlc sex, Willou^hln . I Iii>j)f lad," lau.irliinuly aildrd Mr. Clu's- -oiu, •' that you'ir nut goinix t<»l>(.i(iuic a woinan-luittM." ** Ky no means," answi-red Willougli- I'V: ''I am an ardt-nt admiit-r of ilio >:entlc si'x, and nui>l conii'ss that 1 have also a dfU'ided wx-akni'ss for tln-ir socie- ty ; hnt yon «ee, in this practical nine- teenth c«'ntnry, it isn't an everyday oc- cm'rence for yonn<: ladie> to bestow their pi'etty wliite hands npon jtenniless swains who have their own way to make in the world." For all liis assumption of light careless- ness thei't' was a ri)i;,' of wonnded jii'ide in his tones which Mr. ("hessoni did not fait to detect and won<U'r at. Earnest Willoiighhy had been, or fancied himself to be, all along, in love with iiretty, stately I(hi Chesley ; l>ut lier I'cply to Miss J^ooksley's lightly spoken words, of the evening before, had casta shadow upon his day-dream. " Yes," slu' had said in lier silvery, even tones, " lie is grave sometinu's ; bnt never morosely so ; and I rath<'r like his ijuiet sensibility : it is a pity though," she added carelessly, '' that lie is so <h'eadfully jtoor." " Would you fall in love with him, provided he were Mr. C'hessom's grand- son instead of his clerk?" laughingly encjuii-ed Miss J^oclsU'v ; and Earnest listened breathlessly lu. the Itell-like voice to re])ly. " Very j)ossibly 1 might", careh-ssly spoken; '• //" he were; but, as that //' hapj>ens to lie in the way, such a ridicu- lous idea never enti're'lmy mind." And then the young ladies passed on, uncon scious of the pi'o,\imity of the subject of their discussion, and tlie fact that he had been imable to avoid hearing a ))or- tion of their convei'sation. And Earnest Willoughby leaned back among the mazes of a rank American creeper, jiroluse witl 1 gay, ciimson t>loom, and fell to alternately anathe matizing the whole feminine race, and liianking his lucky stars that he was now aware of that which would i)rt'vent him from placing himself in a humilat- ing position. More than once had he been upon the point of tolling Ida his love, and beseeching her to wait iorhim. until he should win fame and Ibrtinie sutKi'ient to justify hnn in claiming lier fair hand : but he was gUul now. very glad, that he hail restrained himself, that the lieartless coqiii'tte should not have the ojiportimity of adding him to lie!' list of vi(;tims. (xi-acefnl, stately Ida was a coquette if ever one » xi.«.ttHl, and she hail trieil to win Ernest Willoughb\ "s love. She had given him swee^t, encouraging smiles. had rode with him, walked with him, and listened with flattering attention to his remarks — in short, she liad practiced U]ion him all those numlierless, subtle wiles, which flirts are wont to exercise upon the unlbrtomate mascidine bipeds who become infatuated by them. She was half in love with him too — that is to say she admired him, and had sense enough to see that he was much handsomer, more talenttnl, and sensible th'in any of her other admirers ; ]>ut she woidd as soon have thought of flying oft' in a balloon for the puipose of exploring the 'Milky Way," as of wedding the [)Oor handsome young clerk, his beauty. his talents, his clear good sense, not- withstanding. Ernest comprehended all this now. and resolved to politely ignore the state- ly ld;i for the future. Thei'e was a moment's pause after Ernest's satirical speech, and then Mr. Chessom sjioke. *' I had hf)ped," he said gravely, '' that you and (ilennie would have liked each other suffii'iently to some day have mar- ried. I know that you <iuarreied savagely in your childish days, (n-ery one of the f»'W tunes you were together after (ilen- nie and darvis cam(> here : but then they were always having tlieir sj)ats too, and I thought that such longabs(mce and years of n.aturity would have ban- isheil all the old juvenile ill-will. I hatl a i)retty little scheme in my head, which wouM have done creilit to a K'minine match-maker ; l)ut \ foresaw li<im the Hrstday youandMabtd came to remain heicthat it must all fidl through. *' !My dear boy," he continued, "the w( Ifare of youi'self and your dear little sister — though 1 can scarcely account i'or it — is (Mjually as jjrecious to me as that of my own cliildren ; and long ago 12 THE BAXKEIVS GRAKDCHTLDREK. I made up my mind that you two should marry my giand-childien, and tluis you and Mahol share my woalth, instead of strangers ; hut 1 see that you and (41en- nie ))ositively dislike each other, while Jarvis and Mabel would he anythin^xljut a well matched couple ; they" are in no way suited to each other."' lie sighed, but did not tell his clerk that he should be loth to see fair, i)ure hearted little Mabel becoming the wife of such an indolent extravagant ne'er- do-well as his grandson. "My dear sir,"' began Ernest, "'my little sister and I can never sufficiently thank you.'" " Then don't attemjtt it lad,'' laugh- ingly interrupted Mr. Chessom, laying his hand on Willoughby's shoulder: I' and I hear that ' little sister' coming if I am not mistaken." He was not ; it was Mallei's sweet, bird-like voice that was softly caroling a gay air, and Mabel the next moment stood in the doorway. She lookod marvelously lovely, as thought hei- guardian and bi-other, in her fresh, pretty morning dress of l)Iue and white cambric, with a little spray of blue foi'get-me-nots at her slender white throat ; the pinky bloom in her cheeks all aglow ; the violet blue eyes sumiy and sparkling ; the golden hairs falling in silky curls to her sylph-like waist ; and that pretty, bewitching smile, its brightness lighting her sweet oval face. What a supei-b little beauty she was ! "(Jood morning,'' she said to both, running \\\) to where they were stand- ing. The two gentlemen looked down at her smilingly, and then stooi)ing down, kissed her. "Just arisen, May-bird'?" asked Mr. Chessom, patting her cheek with playful tenderness. " Oh, no, indeed," said Mabel, " I have been arranging the flowers in the j'ardi- nere, and I've been up nearly an liour." Then she broke oft' sudtlenly, and turned to her brother. *'0h. Earnest," she said, " do come with me to the conser- vatory, there are some lovely flowers be- yond my leach, and I want a lot of them to fill the vases." Earnest laughed and looked down at her ; .she was very, very dear to him, this fairy-like, goklen-haired little sister of his. lie caught her up, bumjjed her head three times against the ceiling, and then ran with her, laughing, down stairs to the j)arlor consei-vatory. Mr. Chessom sauntered down stairs, into the breakfast-parlor, where Eladah, the house-maid was laying the table; and in a minute Bertram Waldegrave enterecl also. •' Good morning, uncle Philip," he said. "Good morning, nephew," responded the banker. '• J low do you find yourself this morning."' " Thriving,"' answered Waldegrave ; "and it looks like the commencement of a very fine day."' "Yes," said his uncle; "our Indian s*ummer hangs on remarkably." They remained chatting together for nearly half an hour, and then Earnest and his sistei- came in. Mabel was in advance ; iairer, fresher, and lovelier thi'.ri ever ; a fanciful basket on one arm filled with rainbow hued blossoms ; her slender little white hands full of gay blossoms also. Waldegrave thought he had never be- fore seen her so lovely. Glencora, he thought, with all her radiance, her bril- liant fjiscinating charm of manner, was not to be compared with her. How her l)lack eyes would hav(^ flashed, could she have seen her cousin's intensely ad- miring gaze bent on Mabel, and known his thoughts just at that moment. The ordinary greetings were ex- changed, and a lively lonversation en- sued, which at length turned upon the projected ride, which the ladies and gentlemen had the day before planned. "Uncle Philii) tells me that you do not propose going with us," said Wal- degrave, addressing young Willough- by. "No,'" answered Earnest, "an ap- pointment which I have to meet at IsHngton will i)revent my joining j'ou." "I am sorry to hear it," said B(U'tram, who had taken a liking for the banker's clerk, "you proved yourself indispensible the last time we took an airing of that kmd. Supi)ose we get into another such a scrape as the one in which we found 01 cj CI cl w1 cl \\ tl ri oi dl THH BANKERS QUANDCHILDREX. 13 j^^y ^lear to U^, 'Ii in <» -1 'o»anf/ :^.tJown«tai,H ^'■ed down stairs, •""fe' .the table ' •*^«^ Waldegrave' •■^^ Philip,-, h^ l"''l' responded ^ Waldegrave; ^mmenceaaent r together for then Earnest ^fabeJ was in f "' lovelier St, ^'^ one , J>^?«soms ; J^fuJJofgay ^<J never he- ^iencoia, he ^e, her brij. '^"nei- was iiowher \^^^, COuJ(J tensely ad- 'I'i known lent. were ex- iation en- upon the fhes and Planned. . t. you do ^id Wal- '^illough- an ap leet at ? 3'ou." "tj'ani, inker's ,; ^nsible ?* •t' that I'such ftjund f: ourselv<^s on tliat other occasion, wo can't g<'t ulon;Lr witliout you. You have certainly a marvelous way of diffusing calnnu'ss into agitated minds." 'i'lie occasion of wliicli Waldogravc si)oke, was one on wliidi Einest had bi'haved with much (iotu'agi' and calm- ness ; and had been the means of saving the lives of several of the party, who were rendered i)0werless by the panic, caused by a hertl of cattle which had rushed down the hme through wliich they were riduig, terribly frightening the horses, as well as some of their riders. Bertram himself, with several others, had been too far behind to von- tler any timely assistanc<'. They were gaily chatting wIkii tlie breaktast bell la.ig, and the other mem- bers of the family, with the guest ■ at present stoi)i)ing at ^faplewood. pre- -^ently api)eare(l. (iloncora was simply elegant in her moi-ning toilet of lavan- der cashmere : her beautiful l)lack hair in shinning coils about her sui)erl) head — a spray of scarlet geraniums glowing in the jetty masses, she looked, as she usually di<l, regally splendid. Breakfast at leiigth over, preparations for the morning's ride began. The horses were brought round, the 2>arty mounted and rode olf, Waldegrave, somehoAV or other, finding himself and Mabel riding side by side. Glencora was as gaily piquant and charming as n'er, l)ut she was hiwardly passionati'ly .jealous and angry. Ida Chesley opened wide her dieamy eyes, on beholding Earnest Willougliby so calmly tearing liimself from her ^ide : and wondered what engagement could [)0ssibly be important enough to keeji liim from her. Earnest watched them as they rode gaily off, and theu start(^d alone to Islington, to meet his appointnu-nt — and his fate. CM A ITER IV. SIiiiU I oomijiire thi'e h) a !<iuiimcr's il.iy? Thou iirt. more lovely iind more toini'i'riitc ; Hough wind.s do shiike the iliirlin)? buil.-- ofMiiy, And summer '.s leasi' hath Jill too short ii, date. — Slmkxjx'd rr'x Sun )i(t». Ernest Willougliby reached Islington, and found that busin(?ss wouhl detain him there until late the Towards evenmg of the day of his arrival he sauntei'ed out for a walk. It was nearly »unset, and a fiesh, invigorating breeze wa> blowing. lie was slowly strolling along when a carriage, which hatl just jtas'^ecl him, stopi)e(l — a curly head protruded from the window, and a hvely voice shouted : 'M'leloa! VVilloughby, is it yourself, in the flesh ?" Willougliby tinned round, stared, and then shouted, as he dashed to the sitle of the vehicle : '' Fairleigh, by Jove ! and where did you come from?" A vigoious handshak'ng ensued. " Direct from Lancaster," answered Fairleigh : ''got here yesterday." " 1 heai' your uncle, Fairleigh, is ill : that is why you're here. I suppose," said Ernest. Young Fairleigh nodded. '' \'(M-y ill — yes. that's what brought us here." '• Then you are not alone : yoiu- father is in Islington too, I presume." " X(j. father couldn't come — was en- during the agonies of the gout when I left Fairleigh : I came witli my aunt. Lady Muriel St. Ayvas, and herdaugh- ter. my cousin. WinnifrtMl." " Is there no hojie of your imcle's re- covery?'' incpiired Willougliby. •' So the cor))sofatteiident iiliysiciaus seem to opine : l)Ut it's my opinion that he's rather too crabbed to !»(> in immi- nent danger of decease. He was (juite ablt' to nearly snap my head off this morning, for ventming to in(|uireifhe felt any better: and he is still himself sufficiently to relish snub>>ing every one with whom he comes in contact : bady St. Ayvas and her daughter l>y no means exce])ted." The young man rattled on. •' By Jove !" he said i>resently, in rei)ly to some remark of Willoughliy's ; •• l>ut I'm glad to see you though : where are you stopping, old fellow?" Willougliby named his lodgings, jind added : " Come on and (line with me. can't von V" e ensuing day. Ilis friend accepted the invite, Wil- lougliby jumped into the carriage, and they turned about and drove off together. Ernest Willoughby and Ilurvey Fair- 14 THE HASKKIiS <;RAXl)f'nJLI>l!h:y. -J itiijh were fond nfcacli otlifi- ; tlit'vliinl hccn collfgc <'liuiiis, and financijiati'd tn<i«'tli«'i- from colli.'gial iostriction< : I'^rncst witli a tine tlioioiigli cdiujilion, Ilarvoy, with a smattering ol tlio vaiious ' Itraiu'lic^ of knowledge, and a <oli(l un- dei'standing of nothing in ])nrtitiilar. ' lUit lie was a I night, seiisil)lc young fol- ^ low, this gay-voiced, niei ly-nianiiered. Ifarvey I'aii-leigh, notwithstanding, and a good fellow withal. \ot handsonu' by I any means: lie was too short, too bnis(ine ; his eyes, though hi'ight. were I too small, his nose too shoi't : his innuth | was i>lpasant. almost womanly in its i eiu've and outlin(> : and thei'e was an airof gaity, ot frank geniality alif>ut him that was irresistal)le. lie was caielcss. Jovial, jolly; y<'t there was more ti'ue- liearted, honorable manliness in his cftm- position than one who ojily obsei've<l liim casually wouhl have imagined couhl l)e hi<lden beneath <»<i IVivolous a sui'- face. lie had taken an huge liking, as he jihrased it. for Ernest \Villoughl»y. (juiet, studi(Mis, and in every way his ojtijosite, though he was: and the huge liking was mutual, tor Ernest was very fond of him, and they wei-e firm fri<'nds. Judge Faiileigh. Harvey's iatluM'. was not wealthy : he owned a fine, but nol unincumbered estate in Lancaster. Ife was a [ileasant ol<l gent'ema)), and Harvey, in characlei'and dis])o>;ition was his counterjiart, with the exception that VThik?the,hi<lge]Ji'idedhiniselfinmenscly upon his fine old estate. hi> proud name and lineage, and tlie fat>t th.at his ])arent (m the maternal >ide was the daughter of an Earl. Harvey cared little more about his anteeessois than he did about those of his favorite gr«'y-hound. Tasso. .fudge Fairleigh's biotlKi. a vtiy ciab- bed, verv wealthy, old aiinv otticer. ic- rtided in a. pleasant, finely situated house at Islington. He livedaloiic.aiid ill ease ol an imusually seveie attack of his rhumatism, pneumonia or gout. allowing his friends to <'oiue near liiiu when they were then summoned to attend upon him, to administer hi> miriberh'ss <loses ()f nu'dicitie — wlien tin; servants were afraid to aj)pi'oach him — to read alou<l such bixiks as he fancied, when he was in the mood to listen, to endure his snufjibings with the be<t gi'ace p.K<ib|e: and when he was af)le to <it ui> to play whist with him. when he c:\yi't\ to be anuised in that way. Such an oifice c<iuld scai-ie'.y lie deemed an enviable one, and yet his sister, baily Min'ie! St. Ayvas, was a' ways really to answer his pei'tMnjitory sum- I IK 111-, to list <'U to hi<>-oUlsj>eeches with a smiling lace, to flatter iiim, and lavish uj)on him her condolences, to address him or speak o| him a- pooi' dear bro- thej- Lowijer, and to >weetly bid him good bye the moment she was not of <ervice, aii'l began to find herself in the v.-;;y. Tic- cro>s-graiiied ( 'oloiiel was a bach- elor, and nearly sixt\. Lady St. Ayvas was a widow, and firt(<Mi years his junior. She wa^not at all wealthy ; her husband had s(|uandered his property )>revious to liis death, and had not hady Muriel lieen a shrewd maii.ager she would never have be(m able to have kej)t up hi <'i manner befitting her rank. She had one child, the Lady Winnifred. for whose mari-iagt^ with some man of title a'"il fortune she was anxiously maiuevering. Lady WimiilVed had come to Islington accoi'ding to her mother's request, to assist in nursing the irritable invali<^l. He was more thanu<ually irascible, and her jiatience and endurance was more than usually tried. She read stale, tedious books to him. and tried not to Ix' angry when he stopped her, as soon ax tired of listening, liy tartly inquiring if she meant to bore him to (h^ath. She played whist with him \vhen she longed to be out of the gloomy sick ro(mi, breathing the sweet, fresh ail' in the sunlit garden: -Ik; played the martyr with uncomplaining heroism, save when I.ady St. Ayvas reproached her for not being still mor<' assiduously attentive to her poor, dear uncle, whose sutferings made him >oinctimes exhibit a fretful- iK— that was <jin"te mnialural to him; then she angrily rebelled. She was as gently attentive as if h<' were the most grateful individual in the world: but she would never coii-ent to Hatter and cajole him, a lid Lidy ^^urie!. even tliongli it was in his power to will her a-; many thousands as hi' chose. Ernest and Harvev readied the form- «'r th.| on| -\H St.1 tin foil sill srti Wc| le t •* r' ■^ riiK HAS K Eli- s nh\\siK'uiij)in:y. i:. '^t uiMi him, ""•''' in t/'iiit i'f"''.v Mini- '<'''t'MvitI,;i ""'I 'jiVi.sJi to U.ldlvss ^1' '!< '.■!)• l)l-o- y '""(I iiiiji "il.s j|,it ol' '■^<'lf' in tJio '''■^.Jiiiiioi-. ]>l'i'VJOU.s 'y Murit..] 't 'Jp in fi .^'i'' had f"i- nhosn titlo a-- (I '•^liji^'ton ■'ll'f^st, to ; invalid. iWe, and vus nioro <1 stale, <1 not to •is .soon iXiniHiiiT li. Sh.'- ' Ion <.'(>( i loom, ni the niui'tvi- <' ^vlu'H or not itivc to Ji'rin<jr,s 'ivtfVil. 'liin ; ^vas a^ ' most UtsllC >'.'\)o](^ ii^rh it ma 113' forin- .A . ♦•r's 1<) I'.'ing.'- : dinn<M' was xtvimI, and i tliry <;U down to<;ctlK'i-. Harvey lattliiiL'' on in \i\- iiMial lively strain. "By .love. Willon/ililiy,'" lie said, in spoakin,!: of lii> eousiii. I.ady Winiiih'ed St. Ayvas. " slie's astmiiiiL' ;.'irl, and just tlici style ofyomifilady !<• exactly suit yon — too stately and heaiitiful. andallthat tiu- an ill-lookinj,' cul) like mysrll'. Imt she'd snit yon." •• [ have not the sli^litest doiilit oi'it," srtid Willou.irhlpy, "hut the ditlii'iilty would he that I sliouldiTt lie hi the least likely to suit hel'.'' •* Yes you would," was the answer ; " she'd like you, Tin sure oi it ; hut I'm not so sure ahout the. mateiiial ]iarty. liatly Muriel has ininieiisely high ainis for Winnilred ; she'd turn uj) her nose «l nie now. heeause I'm not rich ; hut Win- nii"re<l wouldn't, it she were in lovt with me, which, I'm sorry to add, she isn't." .''it the j)re'sent stage of AVillouglihy's eHreor, he hud very little faith in wo mankin<l — rich, fashional)le womankind espeeiuUy ; arul he felt small intert'st in hih friend's eulogy of hinly Winnified St. Ayvas's glowing b<>auty, tlKnigh he heard lier deserihed. Dinner over tin- young men sat over their wine chatting together. Talking business — talking ])olitic.s — talking nonsense; Harvey discoursing tlic latter especially. Thoy had not seen i^ich other for more than a year, during whii;li liarvey had been travelling ;U)road, and thev had oonse<iuently a H good deal to talk about. '' And now 1 must tear me away," said h'airleigh, at last rising and tossing away his cigar. *' Trood night, old boy; we'll meet in the morning, and I'm going to Ixnidon in a day or two, pro\ ided my poor, dear uncle tinds himselt recovfM-- ing, and <loesn't bite myhe.'id oti' before I take myself otF. (iood night." "(t(_>od night,'' iuid thr two ])art- ed. The mo!".;ingf<»llowing Harvey entered his imele's chamber to inquiie utter his health. The < 'olonel vvas bolstered u]) in bed, (jiierulously complaining of his hard-ships, when his nephew entere(l. Now any otiier man uinler the sun but Colonel Fairleigh would have welcomed the pleasant-voiced, cheery young fel- low, who came in with a bright step. an<l j>leasantly grave tiice. "<iood morning, uncle Fairleigh; bei- tei' this morning 1 hope." The Colonel turned his tiice round savagely. •• What makes you say that, you young hypocrite?" he deman<led. "You don't hope anything of the kind. VV^ho wants you coming in here, with that nasty log tagging after you. >N'innifred hand me one of them," he (jrdered, pointing to a huge pairofvelvet slippers that lay on a foot-stool Belbie hady Winnifrecl had time to obey or make ripply, Ifarvi'y quietly stooperl forward and, with a ItKlierous gravity jtickcd up one of the slippeis and i-espect fully jtresented it to his unch', I'he next moment it was hurled at his head, but he dodged it, and the missile fetcln-d up against the defence- less cranium of the Colonel's valet, who was just entering the apartment, and he darted hack, at a loss to iniderstand whv he was fav<ii'ed with this <*xtra h.-lp. " Permtt lue to bid you good morning, un(de ; 1 am happy to see you so much like yourself this morning." said Harvey with droll sincerity, turning to leave the apartment. " Come back, can't you ?" siiarle(l the ('olonel gruffly. "Yes sir. ' said JIarvey, turning back, and standing in a respectfully attentive attitude. " Do you see that i)aper ?" " Yes sir " "Well then take it : it's a hst of books whii'h I wish you to purchase for me. B<' sure you don't forget either ; and 1 want you to charge .Tactiues particularly about th(^ cai'o of that gray mar<>'s leg. Miml and tell him if he lets her die. I'll Hay him when 1 get liettei." "Yes. sir," said Harvey. Then there was a slight jiause. " Anything else you wish me to do?" inquired Harv«\v. " No!" snaii])ed the CV>lonel, turning away his head, JIarvey made a hideous gi'imaee, and h'ft the chamber softly whistling, his brown-eyed dog, Tasso, trotting at' his heels, [n the corridor he encountered Ludy St. Ayvai«t. ♦ ! n ( !« 16 THE HAXKEli'S aitAKDCIIILDUEX. "TFavo yon seen your doav uncle this moi-ninji?" she iixiuirod. "Yes, [ have," said Fairleigh, laeoni- i;ally; "lie's a hcaj* better, isn't he ?*' " I am hait]iy to say that there is now much hope «)f his speedy reeovery,'' said iier ladyshi]>, with a radiently hopeful countenance. "Well," said Harvey, " I'm not of any particular service to you her(\so I think I'll drive to i,ondon with my friend Wil- loughby ; he leaves Islington to-dny." "Now Harvey!'* expostulated Lady St. Ayvas, "how thoujrhtless of you : why can you not remain here a lew days at least and help us to attend iii)on and amuse liim. your ])oor,dearun('le ?" Harvey lifted his i-yebrows in a<|uaint ijrimaee. " Amuse him !" he re])eated ; " how pray 'I — >)y standing as a target for his slip])ers, ov night-cap. or whatever elv<f he f.nds near<'st, and foels inclined to hurl at me. as he did this morning '.''" "Oh, Harvey!" — but her ladyship's dei)recatory speech was interruj)ted by Lady Winnifred. " Mamma, uncle Fair- leigh wish(>s you to come and sit liy him;" and Lady St. Ayvas hastened away. "You look fagged," said Fairleigh. sui'veying his cousin's tired face. " T am." said Lady Winnifred : and I am going out for a walk ; the house is so stiflingly warm and close." " Don't leave youi- «/ipatient for long, or he'll raise no end of a row," said Fair- leigh as lie descended the staircase. Lady Winnifn>d tied on a hat. an<l walked out into the ganlen. It was a lovely morning, the dew-wet lawn looked like gemmy velvet, the geraniums glowed in the warm sunshine, and tlie co])pice ofhu'chand birch Avas a line of mellon, yellow gold. Lady AV^innifred ojiened a wicket and passed out of the garden. How gloriously bright and beautiful, and fragrant everything Avas. She for- got the irritable invalid at Birchbrook house. — forgot every thing in contem- plation of the bright, lovely scene that surrounded her, and gathered flowers and trailing vines with almost childish tlelight. Slie was stooi)ing to pluck some si:)rays of starry wild blossoms when a footstep on the narrow patli startled her, and rising she found her- self face to face with a gentleman. He was handsome, with a lithe grace- ful figure. This much Lady Winnifre<l had lime to jicrceive as he paused fbi- an instant to lift his hat and utter a graceful apology— the next he was out of sight in the winding path. Lady Winnifred bent over the Howen ! again,' but the next moment .she ha<l I dropped her blossoms and started to i her feet with a wild cry of terror. I She ,ha<l heard without heedhig the I baying of a dog on the other side of tlie I (•o))piee ; but nf>w a great greyhound. j the lieicest canine animal on the pre- I'mises. with his I'ed tongue tolling from his grim jaws, came tearing throtgh the narrow i)'atli toward hei-. He saw her, and gave a short. sa\age bark as he sjirang forward. La<ly Winnifred's whit(> lips parted in another terrified scream, and she clasped her hands despairingly together. Thrre was a <iiiiek rustle— a loud shotit — and WiiniilVed's bewildered senses took in knowledge of the fact that somebody with a dull was beating back the .snarl- ing, infuriated cur. A heavy blow stunned the finimal, and with a howl he fell over. Then Lady Whmifred looked at her rescuer, who now stood })eside her. and perceived that he was the same gentleman wlio had ])assod her a mo- ment Ix'iore. " How terribly frightened you must have l)een,'' he saitl, looking down at hei' as she (lung to one of the trees for suppoi-t. " Piay let me find you a seat — see, here is one."' and he led her to one of the stone benches that vv«m'»^ .scattered here and there through the cojise. Lady Winnii'ied sat down, still i)ale aiid trembling; and the strange gentle- man looked down at hei', and thought he had never before in his life beheld anyone so beaut ifiil. The rosy tint <'ame softly back to her cheeks as she glanced up, and found the fine dark eyes of the handsome sti'angei- i-esting with such evident admiration upon her. Presently there was foot- steps on the path, and they heard a lively voice singing: — " C< me an 1 sej the winklet*. Come iiiul i-ee the whales ; Ji<* found her- iitlomnn. 1 Ji litho fivaco- I'J.v Winnifi-ed ho ])aused i'ov it and nttcr a ci lie was out nth. or the t\<^^vorH n<nit sho had id startofj to teiToi-. h<>('diii^' thf M" sido of tilt* groy liound. on tlio pro- tolliny from throtgh th(- re saw hei-, J>ark as he ^>* paited in shoolasjed hov. Thm^ ?hont— and ses took in soin«*I)ody the snai'i- ■avy l)low a Jiowl lie e(i looked nd f)f>sid«. the sanif* ler a mo- on mnst down at I'Pt\S foi- seat — I" to one atteivd e. ill i)al.' geiitle- lougJit eheld ItO iu'l" |id the Jan^ej' (•ation foot- ird a THE JiAXKER'S GltANDCJULDnEK. 17 :t Cotne and c te the cronoililo That i>l lys upon the "Uelloa!" Harvey Tairloi^li Htopj)ed sliort. both in his al)s\ird nonj? an<l his l)risk walk, and stared at the seme, helore him. Ijady WiiHiii'ri'd, who hud not yet (piite recovered from her iri:.'Ut,|sittin,ir on one of the benches. Ernest \Vill((n;:liby — lor lie it wi.s — standin.^; Ix'side her, his ^ray eyes siying as j)Iiiinly as liis lips eonld have ,!one, how lovely he tliou;j;lit her, and the senseless grey lioand Ivirni a fe»v feet oil". "Yes, sir, I'll remember si)'," said Pilkins, iKtwinu;; " 'e woiddn't ha been let loose at all, sir. only tln'rewere <'on- siderabh^ m.-mv pillaireis 'round hn-e o' wcr mester's iiorcK'is to niiilit: an- !t CllArTKK V. Tiovo is ever busy wth his Hhiittic— is fv-'v Nviviviii;.!' iuii> !i:c's (|>iil r (irp hi inh'f S'l" -> ('if rt)\ve> ii'ul si'oiK'i* Arc 'i\\a\\,— Luiiiif,'! iin' Explanation being maile Havv(\v'sj look of astonishnu'iit changed to one oil liKUgJiation *' .iust like all th^- rest of it here i" W I'Xi'lainii'd ; " 1 should like to know why tliat snarling t)rut(! was let to run ]o.»se tills time in the day." A servant i)r('sently appeared, and lini'vey, who had Ix'giin intro lacing VVilloughby to his (-onsin, only waited to finisli the ceremony, and then turned furiously npon the domestic with: — j "Why in the name of all that's nn- | iieard of, is that savage brute allovv<!d to | •xo loose in the d.ay time ? Do you ! know," he added sharply, " that he nearly frightened her ladyship out of lier wits, and would have torn her to pieces had it not been for this gentle- man?" Pilkins looked considerably fright- ened, ant^began stammering apojogetic- ally . "I'm werry sorry, werry ," said he ; " but W you please, sir, it was mester's borders to let 'im hout o' nights, before 'e wer took ill, sir ; and we didn't think aa 'er ladyship, *ud be hout quite so hearly for 'er walk, or we'd ha' certainly 'ave 'ad 'im chained up sooner, air." " I see this cur is pretty well done for for the present," said Fauieigh ; "but mind* you keep a sharper eye on the rest of the snarling pack, and don't let one of them loose after daylight to molest any one who happens, like her ladyship, or .this gentleman, who was opportunely on hand, to be out for a morning walk." ' i let Tyke tlicie loose, so's '<( might <'at»'h any stiaggliMs as 'ajjpimed to be j)iow- li)i 'rounil ;" and with another lioMiing olteisant'e, and a fmv more eN]>ressions of regret, addrcsse 1 to baily WinnilVed. he lifted tliedog Tyke, which was already beginnin.: to icvivc, ani trotted otK Fairleigh leaned against one of the sturdy yoimg birdies, and b«'gan chat- ting in a merry strain. His lively humor was always contagious, and in a won<lerfully short space of time, stately J.ady Winnifrcd and <|uiet Ernest Wii- loMghby were chatting togt'ther as g.'iily. as animatedly, an<l almost as lively as if they had known each other all tiieiiTives. '•And now I must takf* myself off," s.aid Kairleigh. at length: "1 liave an ai'j^ointment to meet before starting for Loudon. I'll meet you at your hotel imnie<liately aft<'r dinner," he continued, addressi)ig Willoughby, who was engaged in the restoi'ation of Win- nifred's scattei'ed wreaths and blos.soms : "and,'' he added, "as my path lies in an opposite direction from both your own and Birchbrook house, the honoi- of seeing her ladyship safely back will fall to you." fiady Winnifred, who had ' already risen to depart, accepte<l the escort wbieliL Willoughby eagerly offered : and parting from J-'airleigh they walked on together. She was so lovely — so very lovely, this graceful Lady Winnifred | and Wil- lougliby's gray eyes were full of a. wor- shipfully, admiring expression whenever he looked at her. The lesser charms of stately, coquet- tish IdaChesley, faded— paled to noth- ingness, compared with this most beau- tiful lady ; and the banker's handsome young clerk was insensibly, but never, theless surely falling wildly in love with her. She was not like his golden- tressed! fairy of a little sister, although she was gracefully slender in ligure, and there were myriad flecks of bronze light in her abundant hair. She was taller, with 1< THE n.\ .\Ki':/rs r,7.M.v ;>.";/ /A.y>/.'/;.v, ii<i i"i > > t I a more i|iifiiil\ air iiinl I't'iiiinj: ; ;im(1 !iiT -(ill;.'!! l.>rk< \\cr»' ii'it t!n' puio, s»'llou. Tiiiiiii ,:^-)M. like Ma'nil's. '.;it nutty blown, hatlifd in 'it-il, i<h1 jx 'lil." Ih'r'<'>t's w^'Vi' not ilfcply. piC'iily l>l;.ic'. '.ut l'la;-k; ii. it!ici- u^^-i-c they iia.-!iiii,Lr. -'jiillos black" like (il'MifOi-a ( 'licssoin'.s, l>ut soft, lik«' li<|iii'l,iri. witlia i.iiri' !i.rlit shiiiiii:; out >il tli.-m: aii<l l!i<.'\ IiariiiMii- isi'd .'M|ui,-iili;lv, witij llic tlfli'-.itr tint- iiiii c»l' ix'iU'l uikI pink. ,lt sva'^ a l)r(H'zy, si'nlit lut'iiiin:.', cmkI they walkcfl -iowly alon.'. ■»N*'r tl.> rjistlinu; <ai'i)<'t ol yrllow I'alli-u livivc-. ti'U tlivy loa.licl til.- lawn ,i.'.;ti'. r)inin,'r tlu'ii- \Viilk Lady W'i.uiitVcil inl'.i'iu'^d \Vill<>u,tr;iby that sin- ami licr inoilici- litul Innni visitiu^x i:i i'rani'v for tlif Ila^t yt;;u', a.nl sinv' lufir r<'tiivn lu'd been invit-'il by Mv>. Leiiih <;licssoni. with whom Luiiy St. Ayvus was^on intiiniu-ly rritiuilly tc-i-nis, l* visit ^laiil-'worKl ; and ;is .-(Kiu as her liroiher\va> convalrv-ci^ut kad\ :-t Ayva> woul'.la'.'cc|it tiic invite. Ernest would iaiii havi' dani'inl ;d this intorm:"'''>ii. but he fNi>rcsseil hi- pleasui'e that thoy slioul 1 '••» soon mec-t' aizaiii. after iiini'u'eeonvoilioiial liishion. and o[n'iied th.' uate lor L:idy VVinnit'red. Ilnviug niiiny matter-; to look to beloiv leaving lsiinp:ton he heroieally denied hinisfd' tlu- pleasure ot ai't'eptinji- her invilaliou to (-uter. ''Will you i:ive n\e a ^ouYeuir?" ho usko 1, •pointing' to her tlower-. : ^ broke ott' an odorous blossom, with pear white petals and crimson hejii-t. and with a ideasanl, bright smile, gave it to him. n(' took it— his Vieait thumping the wlille. and l)hindered hno uttering a i)retty eompliment as ho- fast(vaed it in the button-liole of his eoat. Lady Wiimit'red gave him ht-r hand for a'laonieut. it was d.uly, pr»;s>se(l, bowed over and reieaseil, and they |)arted — Willougliby in an fxtatic sort of state — WinniiVed with a rosier tint than was wont on' her cheeks, and the impression on her mind that her cousin's handsome fri.nid was interesting— Very. "Who ever lov'd that lov'il not at fir-^t si^htV" . •' CHAPTER Vl.'"' * \ Ji)l KXKV INTO W.\l,i:s, AND .VX .vrCIUENT. They had had a long pleasant ride— ih«' merry equestrian party whieli left .Mapleworid on the morning upon whi;-!! \fri:ii:A\'ill!»,ighl.y started for Islington, and. after a lunch partaken of in gyi>sv lasiiion, undei' lh" tlickeiing shadow of autumn fohV.ge. returned iti time t^^ dress for dinu' •,. After that lengthy meal ended all as-^embled in the gi'(vit I m-ple (h-awing-room. There were (;iute a numlier of gu'-ts at pi'Osent ste;)i>inL' at ?»Iapl«-^wood.. There were the ,\!aiH- lieltls, the Cheveneys. .hidge Ifaieouit aid his j.retty little wi.'e. who was r.'^arlv tw ut',' yeais young. u" than himself, an t .-uiu 'tiling like a ye.ir youugei- than her twin -te[.-dau'jhtei' — two lan::uid fas-i- ionaMe belles. There Wasrantain ( hes- l-y'< '-tately da.ughte;- Ida, and liiswar<i, tlie rich Ik iress 'i'rissie borksley ; two or three l/mlon friends, including (.'hai'- lie piil-ilon, an! the ])ank(M''s nephew, B<')'tram Waldegrave. Glencora Chessom was <lazzling in Velvet and diamonds — was sparkling. pi']U;n!t. briHiuut: and yet Mabel Wil- lougliby out-rixalle 1 her in sweot, fresh Iov(>lin<^ss.if noi in Mvacious brilliancy. Jarvi;- t ht.-som sauntered over to where the latter was seated, at work on some I'airy complication of bright colors, and began a teasing convtu-sation with her. He Vt'a? fond of his orphan eouiiin, if we may so call her, feeling for hor a more really genuine; regard and respect- lUl admiration than tor almost any other woman of hi^ uoquaintance. Like many other men of his class he looked upon a pure hearted, womanly woman, as a creature beyond liis conipi'ehension ; l-iut half wi.^hed. sometimes, he were less of a scapegrace, that he might venture to worship her nearer by. " You look very charming to-night? Meb,"' hewdiLspered. "Glen, ovei- there, in her glitter of ruby velvet and dia- monds, and her marvellous headgear, she's a stunner, but she desn't make u}> as yon do after all." ^ Mabel glanced up, about to make some laughing reply, but Jarvis inter- rupted. '* Meb, little cousin," he said, "if I were less of arufSan,d<) you know, not such a — well, if I' were only :half" good enough for you, I should fall in love with you, as sure as fate. - Po you- til hi >/ii-ty u-lii,.|, i,.f, •'".ir sli,i<!ou' <,f '' in tint,. ? , ■ tli.it liMi-rhv ■^(■nt. Sf(,.,).i),.r 1 Iii;ii><o|(; ..,,,,| V^'^v tl..-,n 1,,.,. '••I'tfiiii ( i,,..^: ■i;i i Jlis u-;.i-/;, ''>'-ksl(.y ; two 'ludiiiir Chai'- ^WOQt, f,uvi, ^'•illianoy. <J OYOV to uc work on ■'o'^it coloi..s. '■•^ution witJi fOLusin, i/' \d rvsitect- '[ ji'iy otJie?' -ike many -'J nj)on k '-m, as a -iionsion ; ""ere lews t venture to-night, or there. ^ and Uia- f eadgear, iiake n]» ♦! > make s inter. . 'le said. I know, 'y half . fell in Do you f Tin: HA .VA'A7."s' 'lltAXnnilLDh'KS, I \ 19 tliiiik it would l»«' (|Miti' ti-.t'!»',sN as it i-^? Si!j)iio>(^ I rcfo.in? 'riic c|iivsorniii';uli'< an- not ovci' yt'l.M<l»I" !!<• lan^hi'd — hiswmils ut-ic Iialfji'>t- in'.'ly, liali -^(.-jiously si)okt'n. "Coiac. tfll 111'- MaWcl, wolud it l>" <|Mit(> lolly to think of siicli a tliiii;^?" '• Ym, <iiiite," <li<' .'uiswci't'd lMU.^Iiiii>:. "We -Ik.mM '" 111" worst m.it'-li.'.l eonj)lo ill tln' wi>;]i|. -larN i» I" .lai'vi.N l;t'.i,:.']if.l. •' W.-ll. I'm imt |ir.- i>inv'(l til di-|r.itc tluit." In; ^aid : •■ I t'rai- it would 1)1- ('Veil S(i: jououirht to haV" a liitter IMI<»w. and 1 — oli, I dare >ay I shall inai-iA and !>'• tol(*ialily happy wilii some little idiuL lik.' .the LocU.^leys youdei'. di' some of t!ic n-st of lliem ; hut here t'(.ime.s cousin Bertram; he would ^uit you iM'tter than any other man 1 know. •• Ue cai-erul." It:* a Idc 1, •• that < ilcueora does not iM-trily you with Ikm' tiorironiaii eyes!"' aiidln' .-aunti-i'f 1 over to llirt with 3iiss Loeksjcy. <iloneora vras never so thoroujjrhly in iicr clcincut as when there wasajioodly munhcr ol' nia^culiuf devotees hovrrin;^ aV)0'it her: hut tliMiiL'h such was tin.- <',TS(> to-ninht — thoUL'h she took a. sort ol savair*^ d"light inluriu'^on. with her will- o"-the-v,is]) like, eyes, her admirers, her radiant iraitdy was only outw.'ird ; within she was H'-rcely. furiously an.irry — an;j;i'y with Ifersclf, anL;;ry with jlertram ^VaIdt'- :j:i'ave. and mori! savairdv an.irry still vvith Mabel Willouglihy. For the first time in her life she was recklessly, wildly in lovt^ — in love with he)' tall, dark tou.-in ; and hemaddeiK >\ her with his ealm, eool dispassion. IVi'haps had he become ho|i<'le>.s]y enamoured of her, falling down as a she was not ci'i'tain that hi- glance meant love. Jhit of late he had been notic.Nibly attentivti to Mabel, and nn\\ ai he sought luu* .side,( ilenectra dropped her white lids to veil the ligei-essdikt gleam of her cy(^s; but Col. "i\ian, a- lie sat beside her, siwher re;l lips pro- together — iieard her tlelicale Ian suaj*. a-s!ie crushed it in the grip oflier while (in^i;-, aiel .-miled grimly under his \ elU)vi-dirowii moustaciie.. The Colonel had I n making elabcaale l<>ve to her th.d day, and in retui'n for his pains ban reet iveil only pi(juanL words .uul sauc' -miles of eoipieLtry ; and now he took a s,)).;^ of >;t\age pleu.sin-e in -eeing her waxen fingers close so fiercely 'round the ffngib' fail ; and f,,i' tlu^ lif-ofhim. be . (Mild not n^sist saying: " I'ray -pare your pretty Ian, .Mi-- Cli,.<som; your fair hands clutch it a! niM'^r as mercilessly as if it Weie a lov(!l\ '•■niinine throat I" l^)i' an in-tani the black e\eswere j'aised — a furious llame burning in theiii: the next it had died out. and a faint linge (»i' ci-imson man tied h'-r white fon'head, hcj' -et lip- rclaxeil, and a soft little nuu-uiuring laugh rip[>'ed bctwi'cui thenj. as she utte.re.i .-ome light fiivolot;- retort; and ; for the remainder of the evening she ' was moi-e gaily, brighi1\ charining than ever. •'Whe)'e is it yoii'i'e going now. .larvisV" infinirod Mr. < 'hessom, glaneing up from the whist tablv> to his grandson, as he ( hanced to cat-'.i soiiv- rem.irk of h;~. addros-eil io yir^ng Tolsdon. •' With I'liisdon, into Wales." said Jarvis, *• we'v*' made all ari'angement,-. but though umdred others had done, t<. <lo her Hiid purpose starting lU'Xl week." homaire, she miirlit— she proi)ably woid<l ' .'* IJeally.'" exclaimed Mrs. Chessoni : —have lured his loveon,onlv to crush i " 'l^' '-^ 'I'nte too bad of you and Mr. and torture it in the .-nd ; and would i ^*'~''^<^<'»n to leave us just when you aiv have laughed at his misery, ad<lin- him . iietuidly indispensable d*" toh(M'already ninuberles- list of \ iclims. j •• Never fear, mother." an-wered .iai- But Waldegrave had not <lone this ; his vis; •• we shall be bacdi with plent\ of manner toward hei' had only been thai tinie to lender all that is neecessay of of cousinly friendliness, save once or oui valuable assistance, in the gettiiig twice, when lu'i- flashing orbs and da/- , uji uflbiil pi'uspi c.tivi' bore, in tlie wav. zling smiles had half tui'ncd his head, of dramatics, wliich I heard you ladle's and he had been ui)on tlie [xiiut of love- discus>ing a little while ago." making. Sometimes sIk- liad seen his ' "Bore I" exclaimed 31iss Lock^jslev : eyes resting uj'on hei- v.ith an expres- ••how can y(»ii call them so. Mr. Ch.'> sion wiucii tJiri lle.l I ler iieart, tiven w hen Mim ': I thiid< private theatricals, wl uni •JO THE BAXKK/rs QUA XlK'HI LDUKX, V proiM'ily ronilu(!to«l, simply chaiining 1'" " Canyon won<l«M', MisH bnUsloy, that thoy aip III! a l)oiv in my •'islimution, when I hoar that I am not to have the |)rivil<';^«> ot'ju'lin;,' oven on«' o thy i)ajts vviih yon?" sidd .F;ii-vis; 'M hojto," Iii' athhnl witii a mock savu;:*! air, "tliat I shall ho tMiahlfd to restrain m.vsclr lioni a«sassinatiti'^ Viviiri yondoi-. I shall Im terribly toin|il«»(i \vh«'n I hehoM him as l?om(H) to yoiii- .luliot?" Sim laii^'lM'(l hack somo p;ay, co(nu«t- tish answci', and Mr. Chossom rfmarkcd: "Yon will \w. ahlo to mako somo tine sl:f>tc'h<^s, .larvis." '* Yt's, that is lialfniy ohject in going,"' said hi'. For a Wonder Jurvis was iontl of paint- in;^; he wanted to make somo skot<'hcs of tho fine scenery in the west, which was particularly fine in the autumn season, eHi)ecially snoh a glorious autumn as this, lie was, foi- once, a littlo weaded of fashionahh; revelry, and Wales, witli its quaint, beautiful i)ic- { turesqueness, would be a ch:in^e. Mr. I Polsdon's Journey thither was one of! business; but Mrs. Thessom was annoyed ' that for a mere caprice, her whimsical son had taken it in his liead '.o run off, just when there was a throng of guests at tlie house, and miore were, ere long, expected to arrive, among whom, Mrs. Chessom was hoping to welcome Lady St. Ayvns and her daughter. The St. Ayvas family was one of the oldest and host in England ; and though Lady Muriel's husband, by reckless ex- travagance, had scjuandered the most of his i>ropcrty, Mrs. Chessom declared that Jarvis' wealth was already ataple, and that an alliance with the beautiful Lady Winnifred would be a very suitable one. But as no remonstrances, which she afterwards could make, availed to dissuade him from taking the i)rojected jaunt, Jarvis and his friend started to- gether upon the day set for their de- parture. A great billow of gorgeous clouds of umber and purple, and firey gold aglow with sunset glory, was floating behind Cwmdaron bay, when they arrived at the queer little town of ('wmdaron where they were to remain over night at one of the odd little inns, with its equally odd pi-oprietor. 1 The yoiujg men jiartook of huppei anil then sauntered out under the w.-ather-bcaten sign that hung abovv' the main eiitranee door of the little establisliinrnt. Tho moon had riKoii now, and th(^ heaving bay was all u spaikle with its rofleeted light. Jarvis glaneed lip at th<^ queer little buildin" remarking: *M)ur worthy landlord \iZ ehosiMi a iomanti(! si>ot~look to your westwurd, harlie " M r. Polsdon looked toward the rippling bay— its headlands, and tile far away peaks of the mountains, dim and shadowy in tho moonlight- it was a wildly, <li'eamily, boautifulseene. On the morning ensuing our friends started for a horsebaek gallop through the rough Welsh count ly. Uniortiuiate- ly their ride had an unpleasant termi- nation. Mr. Polsdon's horse taking fright, that gentleman was thrown from his saddle, his ankle badly s])rained, antl he was carried back to the inn insensible. I CHAPTER VIL I HIKDIE WYLDK. i Polsdon soon recovered conscious- ness; his 4mklo was bandaged, and he was strictly enjoined by his physician not to leave his couch for at least a fortnight. He raised his eyes dispair- mgly to the dim ceiling. "Think of it Chessom !" he said, with a grotm. " To be cooped for a fortnight m tins dingy hole! Why I shall V rubbed out by that time !" He lay for half an hour or so, growlinir over his surroundings and his pains, anathamatizing the clownishness of Welsh peasantry, particularly that of the mdiyidual who,with his awkwardness had frightened his horse, and then fell asleep. Ohessom, smoking, reading, yawning, sat besiae him for what seemed to huu a very long time ; then he rose and walked to the wmdow,which commanded a fine view of Cwmdaron bay. He be- thought himself of his sketch book, and hshingithom his satchel strode fbrth. after giving to his landlord some direc' tionsm reference to his friend, in case he should waken ere his return. The afternoon sunlight was warm and golden; the quaint town was astir: for it was market day, and Chessom wandered on ol itfl :i'<)aK<.x«r<MU w^^^i&Mgjgt i ■<i •"'took nl- ^«oon ij.,,j M^'''' , ':^> Wiis .,11 , '"^ t'^e inn II. ' conscious. t^l'^' and ,'« physician "'^ ^east a ^«« ciispaiif ^ shall be K&'ovrlitig ^ pains, ^ness of ^hat of I'ardness "«n ieJi '■eading, i seemed oseand Qanded fie be- *; and tiirec- ' case , Ti,e Iden; ' vvas =Ion, TffK n.WKKirs anANDCHlLDUKN. leavi'i'T tlio o«!(l little sliopn. with (Inir oonfusotl v.'iriely of w;iiis, niid tin- thron;'' oC \)C'A \ox\\ ly bf-liind — sliollcil on till li(» WHS 11 mill' !i\v;ty lun'i < 'uniiliiion, ftnd within M'ilito'NiintcifU' '. — ;i 'lixmiil OM I'liin I'jion ilio 'mow oI ;i Mcnky In!!, it« ;j;fi)n lii(!i> set soiiwiU'l. Sittin;^ down in ilu' slni'low of ii 'rr<Mt roii.'ili rook l»y tlm stony lii;!:li i<>m(1, Iip diftw <'o(li his j.Oilfolio mill ln'.'/n gketchin;',' tl»' /AJooniy, daiksonir old pliice. iind a i)Oitio'\ ol' its wild y\\\- ronndhijys. Tho ciimson of siMisct was liu'ni;.' iulo the soft ,'ti\'jy ol twili;;lit a'< lu' liiii-!i< I his skotcli Jind loso to (''•|i;iir Id' wal]c<^Hl hiiskly alon,L', lor tin- Octniri evening' was chilly, and the ro.i'.'ii, stony road, with the ".'rejit di'ii •^! .> on one side, and a .•• .'' niomitniii on tiif other, nindeahalf ( cary, tIioi'..:ii wil ',ly picti'ies(iue scene. Wlion al)Out half a mile fiom('wi)i('a- ron he enconntrMcil a tiio ol' jicuants; twoweienjen — tii)sy hooi'ishcioatuic — the thii'd a Jiiil, s'iul>l)ily diossod in the usual style oltlie peasant women's a ttiic. Aroinid the girl's waist one of the elowns had thrown his brawny arm, and, c'.e- S2)ite her strn;j'j:les, was endeavorin;:; to embrace and kis.'- her. Jarvis was i)a-ft- injj; on without, after the Hist ;:l.in(f, payin.-; any attention to their cjiiyiu;,- on, thinking that the j^irl was cofjuet- tishly affecting a. coy wish toescajie; hut lier shrill, distressed cry for help, the moment slie caught sight of .larv !■<. stopped him. "Uh! sir, please drive them away!" cried tlie girl. " Tray, make them lot me go !" A sharp rap on the heacl from Clirs- som's cane caused the tipsy idiot, wlio had clutched the girl, to immediately re- lease her; an<l mutteijjng, they sham- bled out of the way, and i)recipitately took themselves oft'. The girl sank (i.own on a rook by the roodsi(ie and drew several long biraths as she surveyed her wrists, whi(>h were red and svoUen with the marks of the brawny ])easant's .'oarse gri}). Chessom looked cui'ioTisly down at her. She was certanily a curious figuie. Hev she t. da lie green linsey dress wa < old and worn ; her short crimson shawl longh and fiided ; and hf>r tall hat, wln<!i wan tied under lu'i' chin, had lost it- uloss. ani'. was battered and Xhubby. " i'o yo'i live in Cwmdaron ?" asked < h<'ss( in. •' o. sir ; l«ut I atn on my way there,'' aiisivercd the girl ; and in a momc^nt h'l'' I'ose to goon r'hessom looked at her again as she did so, with an amused smile. Sli«! looked like some wierd with in the (laik; tlu' red color which li.iii, in her fright, lorsak<'n hei- sun- l.iowni'd lace, liad not yet returned; lii'i ■; eat liark eyes- ♦Iiough ( 'h(\ssom .01! 1 not tell wheuier tin v were black, '.'iMv. Wine, Ol' brown — hi d a strangf? ■'illen look' in tliem; and 'ler black hair h ')> ' lo!n ini'lei her high hat, lustre- !>■>■- and tangled, lar below her waist. -he glanceil up, and through the I'.vi'iglit s.iw his smile, and r(Mldened, !')! 1 di'>j|>e(l her eyes sulkily. This liii.i '-Mine gentleman, with his drooj)ing )iU) -l.M'lie, polished boots, an<l air dh- li.iii.ir, \.. s s 'ly laughing at her. ( 'hes- o; I lii'd not intende<l that she should see I lie ..Mtie which he could not re- ]-ies : lie i!n:Ieistood the sullen <hoop ol' tiie g, e.it lihick eye« — the drawing in ol ilie slioit upper lij', luul tiicd to con- ciM..ie I he o !d girl. She was di'cssed alh'i- ilie ;asir.oiiol Welsh p(>a.suit girls : l.pt ,-lie w.is e\'i;'eut!y English. ( hes- som ei'ied little aliOMt who this gis'l was. am', yet he piizzhw! him a llU e, too '" Well;" he s.iic'. •' as I am going there too we sluillbe lellow-davelleislor ahalf mi e or so, at if^e-t — >liall we not? There ai(^ mo-e di-unken rnllians coming along. Voii .see it i>< not sa!e ior a young girl li];e you to be, out in this lonely place alone, and at this hour. The next time yo come herc! you hail better get some of youii.ieui'is to eoiae with yon. who can ))iotect yon " Tlie gi.1 loo!c m' at him half sullenly, liall'so, iow,iiily, as she answered: '' 1 haven't any frien<!s to come with me anywliere " ( 'hc.^-om was not a ))hilanthropic yon.ng gentleiii.in ; he had no sympathy hi < omiiioii with shabby Welsh peasant gi.i.^, o. any i)eL;:;ant girls; but some- how (his slini, t..il creature, with her grcai strange, black eye.--, aroii,:ed a someihing in his heart which, if not # Till': UAXKKirS Gh'.l XlH'lllLDnKX. M -I i !■ symiJiitliy. wa- akin to it ; and lie look- ed half j)itvin,i:ly — half curiously donii at her as lie said : "■No friends? when' ai't> your pjt- K^nts? Do you notlivo with friiMKls ?" '■ Father iuid niotlu'i- arc both dead," answfrrd (In- ,t;!!l : "and I hav(* always lived nith Dame TolU-y till a vhhAk a^'O, ^vhon she died ; and 1 am s^oing to lier •ii^tcr, now, who lives in Cwindaron." " Yes, ! see,"" sa'<l .hirvis, who took it in his licjid to kee|) uj) tlu' eonvei-sa- tion. "'i'liis Dame I'olley brought you U]) ; you ar<' a relative of hers, [ sup- [)Ose. Is yoin* name Policy too?" "(Ui, no sir." snid the girl, " Dame Tolley was no I'clation to me : though slie brought me u]i, as you've said, hut my name is Wyld' — Hirdetta Wylde ; though they always eallcil me Birdie."' " Birdie '\Vy!d»'> !"" exclaimed Ches- som. "AVhat a ou]>honic name, to he sure!" IMentally. he added: "What an odd l)ii'die, lorsooth !"" 'rh<\v walked on. Cliessom idly <jues- tionnig h(>r as they i>rocccdcd ; and the girl, lookingup with shy admiration into his fac<^, told him in brief all she hei'- self knew of her history. She was fifteen years of age, of English jiarentage; her lather and moth(>r she knew nothing al)Out, save that Dame Policy liad told Iku- they were both dead. JU'lore her death i)am<' i'olley hail desired that Birdetta should go to her sister, who lived in Cwmdai'on, and whom she was in hopes would give shelter to the girl until she could iind some means of sup- porting herself. They reached a little dingy house. '• i'erhaps this may be the house,"' said JUrdetta; "I'll inquire anyhow;"" wnd she turnetl toward the hut. V hessom drew li)rth a handtul of sov- ereigns, and held them towards her .say- ing : ' "Here, you can purcha-se finery, with these."' The girl reddened and remonstrated ; I lUtJarvis forced them upon her : anil i)idding her good-byt^ went back to his lodging.s, and soon forgot her. (^llAi'TEH Vm " IN TllK WlUK WOin,0 AI.OXK." The next two days following Jarvis' \ walks to Xanteroyd \\-crc dark and chil ly : till.' thii'd was bright and breezy, with great downy clouds sailing softly athwart the horizon : and ( 'wmd.iron bay was all agleam and spai'kle with sunlight. Voimg Polsdon was rajiidly gau)ing. and was also becoming hoi'riltly impatient foi' his freedom. Cliessom, who had sat by hi.s side all the moruixg talking, or I'eading aloud the contents of the London jiapers, glanced up with a long breath ot relief as his tj'icnd's heavy breathing an- nounced that he had falltMi asleep, and I'ising he Icit the cliamltei', and was .soon galloping iiway on horseback. When somcthingovtMamilc beyuiul Xanteroyd he discovered ijy tla^ roadside, in a half- sit tiiiu, hali-croucliing posture, an odd tigui'o — a iigure clad in a worn green liiisey dn>s.s — a tiided crimson shawl, and a (jueer, high hat It was unmistakably Birdotta W'vlde. She had not obtained a shelter then under the roof ol J >ame Policy's sister. (, 'hessom di'ew rehi and Irxjked down at her. Somehow this creature's very out- landishue.ss liad taken his limey " Are you still homidess, my girl ?'' he. asked. She looked uj) — a mint light brighten- ing her shadowy, dark eyes, and told him all that had occurrc(l to her since they had met last. The little hovel, at the door of which she and ('hessom had i>arted. was not tlie one she had wishi-d to tind : bnt learning that she was|still .some distance h'om her destination, she had i)aid the woman who kept the shanty for hei- supper and night's lodging, and on ris- ing the next morning discovered that the handful of sovereigns which tlie strange genlleman had to.ssed into her hands the previous night were gone — they had been stolen. There was noth- ing to do for it, however, but to go on, leaving her gold in the clutches ot the woman ol the hut, whom she was certain » had taken it, and search till she should Iind the old woiiian to whom her former protectress had bidden her go, hoping that for a short time at least she would shelter her. ]iut from that worthy woman"s door she was roughly turneil away, and found herself out in the world ^o' ! •:' ^;^^ -'''^ all ''/"^*^^' ot Lii^ -f ''V. an oa^i ■r'^'''^v;-.an< "'^"^'•^faJcal.lv '^'^';'' <'<>»vn at anoy '»r irii-J ?•• he ^'^ ''i'J>ljten- '"foi'u-hieh '*''. ^^''is not '/"'''•^tanoo * i'aid tJio "^ on lis. ir^-'^i that info hej. t^ gone-^ 'i'^ noth- * fe'o on, ^ ot tho «^ionId hoping vortliv ivojici 77//-; nAXKKirs ai^AXDcniLDUKx. 23 i again, a ni.^iv lioijeloss uumlerer than .larvis listont-tl imtit'Ully to the pi-l's jioiiovvt'iil narmtion. Ifadsh"', l>een an oivUnaiy bo:.'^'av ho WMiihl iciiili.ibly haw I'l.-iscii hiM- anotliei' handful ol\-(jins, and I'i Id.Mi on without hi'e(Hn,i; oi- waitiii.ix to hear her story, hut sht> \va>> not an ordinaiy ho,;igai' — ■^he had ncxor onco asked hi'in for alnis ; tiiere ^vus a ijuaint air aliout Iwi' that s'MMnt'd to ho a soil of hlondiiiL' of sul- ifun^'.-s, jul/ie and di.^nity, a'ld wliiinsi- cal -hii'vis was interost'Ml i'.i \vr-v. He looked down thought lully for a moincnit. and thi-n, as if a thouglit had struck liini, suddenly tore a leaf from his nieiuoi'anduni hoo:-;, and wrot*' a ftnv line>; whieli ran as iijUows : "Nurse Ctimp. The li(>arer o' these lines is one of the \vorld'slionielcss waifs ; V>y giving her a lionie at your eottage for a few day-i you will eonl'er a lavor upon your • )!<| niu'sery rei)el, .larvls ('hessi)ni. P S. — I am at i)r"sinit lodging at the •' Lion" inn, in Cwmdaron, and will see you in a tlay or two. ,) . <'." .larvis folded the s'ip of pajxM", re- marking : " 'i'here is a Mrs. ( iinio— lUi English woman who lives somcHiing like a (|uar- ter of a mile from liei'e — do you tliink you could lind her enttagi' ".'" " ()h, jes, sir," .sai<l i>irdetta : " I have ')*>en there twioe on eiuand- for .i)ami' I'oUey."' " Well th*-n," saiiUfarvis t'caeliiug Ikm' the pajiei', '• gri to li.'r an I giic ln'r tiiat note, and she will take eare oi'yoii till I soe you again, which will lie in a day or two. (joo(!-i)yi>," nid tossing several |)ioces of gold into Iu.t la[) In- rod>' on. Near nigjitiall lien'turned to tin hion inn to learn t'lat i'olsdon, in sjiite olhis physician's mjunetions not to lea\ e liis eoueh for some tinii> longer, had that day attemiited to cross liis eliamher witli the assistauiie of a chair which ho shoved ahead, and in so. doing had succeeded lu twisting iiis ankle and thus siirainiiig it afresh: and thrc" days passed, and the fourth was half spent ere he hail time to again tlunk of ilrs. (iimp or hi ( curious protege; then he ordered hi; horse ami rode oil' in the direction oi the. (jimi) eottage. Years ago Mrs. Uimp had ottioiate<ias children's nurse at ^laplewotxi. hut for th(' past twelve years had lived in Wales, in a snug eottag>\. a mile or two distant irom Cwmdaron. -larvis, who had stoppr^l one stormy night at her house some tlu'ee years before, knew whereahouts she lived. ftn<{ that she would ghnUy entertaiti h dozen homeless peasant girls, pi-ovided that each came hearing notes hom hiuMii^li" desiring her to do so. Her I)road figure stood isi the open doorway ol hi-r lit tie eottage wlie'n ( 'hes- som rode up. She lehanced courtsey- ing, anil l>id him welcome to her •• 'um- l)le halxtde,'" as she expressed .it . ( 'hes- som dismounted and shooi; her haml, saying: "3Ieant to have come .-"ooner, l)Ut couldn't. ^Vhere's our ]>rotege?" " In the house, sir — and oh, .sir. such a change! you wouldn't know her, sir — l>ut pray come in. sir: you must he tertigned hai'ter y oui- ride. j)oor dear young gentlemai\:" and Mrs. (fimp ushered him into hei- fussy little best room. < hessom o[)ened his eyes and piu'sed ' up his lips as if al)out to whistle when h(> beheld the bj-ight dark, p«'asanv girl, whom .Mrs. (limp j-resented as liirdetta Wyld(\ She had diseaided the oM green linsey and donned a new. bright grey of the sani" material ; 'round her shoulders wa< wrappi-d a gpv jdaideil haudkerchier which w;is pinne(l across her breast ; her hair, lU) longer limp ami lustreh'ss was arir.uged in shining plaits in a i'ajitaslie fashion that became her finely ioi-med head iunnensely. Her dark eyes were bi-ight now, the sullen <'.\pression had nearly all faded out, anil a sweet, -ou light had c()me in its plac^. She was another creature from the half fami,--heil waif whom he had encountered twice befon.'. Not really beautiful, ('hessom thought, yet very pretty too, altera singular fashion. (JUAlTEli IX. in itn I K "s i.ue K i;t. r>irdetta lookt?d up on ('hessom's en- trance with a shy smile and a (Vturtesy. '• ".Vhy ! Ity Jove !" lie e.vclainied. sit ti.ig down opiKJsitt,' her. and giving her 24 THE RANKEirS GnAXDCITIhDUEX. I'i an admiring 'stare I "this can't be tho same littlf? In-own o!f whom I loiii-d by the loadsicle !" The girl's color (Ummicho 1. ainl lio.i- friniry eye-lids (.u'ooik'.I on Iwr ''lieekM, It was a rudv sjmmh'Ii. ;1ki!';i sMtfie- ton<:ut'd ("hcs.soia did ii'it iii.r-id it thr Buch. He noted her look ol cinl/ai-r; ssm^nt, and, remembering that sin- wuf^ not like ordinary poasant girls, wlo would lurve tin'i.r'it s;ii- I IV ■111.' ' . (■ DIM ■;!■ •Vl'-c •*. ••■I been mo;-<' likely to liav( than euiliarrassed at his wo. that something in the w;r, o- was re(]iurcil. " Don't lovok that way. ;nv lie ; *• 1 didn't mean \ yon see I wasn't pre; metamori>ho>is. .^[l•s. < . looking u]) at the wi<li^ *' it seems to me th.at, in to my tami.shing aj^petii", yo to immediately get rea ly yoi " Bless yonr 'ai't, in.isti-i- 'ave it ready jnst ina miiinte,* Gimp. "The kittle's on vlu and she bu.stled out of tlm i oo.mi. Chessom leaned lazily iiacic w. stiff-backed arm-chair, an! ^\ a ■'!!■* Birdetta's slender brown lin:revs, n : i.'\- tiltted deftly among tlw l>fi:.'lii i ■<■^)■'-. pun worsted she was knitting. ">', ■■.'),] then cliatting to her. He did p. >' ■. pect to find his protege g:o\vi i;^ t'.-- short space of three d;iys, 1<> b .d;;'^-^' beautiful. "Have you then no i'<^!ne;a'e!viif ■ of your i^arents?" he askc'!, as the :''./, in accordance with his re<)ue.st ioi' heri > do so, was relating to hiiri tnoi'c ;.;: ticularl}' h<'r previous history '* No sir," answered Rirdetta; "nt le;i,-!i I'm not certain that I have, 1 :;.>.;■ sometimes I tlnnk that I jeiii,',i',, • them both," She looked thoughtfnily down I').' i moment. '* Sometimes 1 think I remtMu' (M'tlieni })oth," she I'cpcated. '• Perhaps it nuiy b(» only a foolish dream — Dame i'oiley told me that it was, — but it seems to :ne that I can distinctly recollect living tomevvhere where everything was nice ••md pretty, where theni was a lady whom I «'al!ed mamma and a tall gen tlenian whem I called [iapa; but all this can't interest you. sir: I am wearying yon." ''No, no, not at all ; go on," said Ches- som, who felt in the mood to listen. " Wiiat more do you fancy that you remember ?" *'I only remember one other person clear," >aid Birdetta ; "it seems tome he was a great tall, dark gentleman, and I was a! vail) of him.'" "l)o you recollect how you)' parents looked'.'" asked ("he.-.som. " I d(Mi't remember much {'bout this gentleman, sir, whom 1 spoke of lirst ; iiiit the lady wa.s li.etty and dark — that is, da]'k hair and eyes ; audi remember 'ler bci^tin a dress that — I can't tell you ; ist what color it was: but it was light and had a j)urple tint in it " "Lavender, perhaps,'" suggested Ches- •om. "I don't know, sir, what color that is," .-;ii llvrdetta. ; "it might have been; it '.VHs very iiretty anyhow." Slie i)ut up one hand and untied a ■ I'i lilt ribbon tliathung 'round her neck ■> I which was suspended a small locket. "I've had this ever sinco I c;iu rc- :aenil.'er," said she ; "but itnever wo;dd ■ome open ; there was a little key .;'.)nging to it. but it got lost, Du'We '•iley told m(> ; and .-die I'orbade me ..'ying to ojien it, 1or fear I Ldiould break . Ars (iiin[) bought mo this ribbon to ;i ng- il on, tlu^ other day," she added ; ■•and she said it might have a pic^tme o:' something in it. 31aybe I'd better .;eiiK it open.*' '..es^^oiu held out ins hand : • '-Allow me to examine it," he said. iii.'letta. gave him the locket. ■ Ve-i, it's Oi ked," he said, after a .;; niic's investigation of the trinket. '•^diall I toi-('c it 0[)en ? If it bre.dts ■| i>!;y yo:i a new one." The girl ns- - iile.l, and (.'hcs>(»m with the aid of his ,.>'nkiiile sundei-ed tlie tiny gold lock : r.u.l the lo;'l<et with a snap llew open, di.si-lo.dug two miniatures and two little eniis oi'iiair, one glo#isy black, the other n :it!y biown. Oneoi the pictured faces wa.i llnitoi' a woman -♦-fair, bright, with gi I'.it dai'k eyes an<l singularly beautiful. In delieat(dy graved chara,cters beneath tlie vignette was tlie name 'Birdettal' The other pictiu'e waa thatof a man— THE BAXKEirS GRANDCHILDKEN. ^ handsome, with fair hair rippling away from a wide forehead ; a pleasant face with eyes that were deep and bright and truthful ; the clear cut, firm mouth and chin, shadowed by a silken, blonde moustache and beard ; and beneath this picture wat the name ' Reginald.' Perceiving another spring, Chessom pressed it back, this time revealing two sweet baby faces — those of a boy and a girl. The face of tlie former \vo,s lair and earnest, closely i-esembling that of the gentleman, wlio was evidently the father of the children; that of the latter was bright and sweet, and very like the mother's. There were two little silky curls of hair with these miniatures also, and like the lady's, the baby-giil's hair was much the darker of the two. Tlie boy was apparently the eldest of tlie two chil- dren — evidently somev.here al)Out four 3'ears of age — the girl about two years. Underneath were the nicknames *Kedy' and 'Birdie.' Birdetta, who had been gazing with parted lips at tlie contents of her locket, looked up in a bewildered sor^of fashion at Chessom. ' v " What does it mean, sir?" she asked. " Moan ? why it means that these two first pictures are those of your parents," said Chessom ; "and these" — pointing to the pictures of the chi'dreu — "must one of them be vour own, and tlie other Did bro- somebody's — ;> hrother's [)erhap8. you, are ther?" you sure, never have a " Not that I know of, sii-. Oh ! su^cly," she exclaimed, looking admiringly at the bright jtictureil face of the little girl, " this can't be I cou'd never have that !" ' a likeness of me. been ])retty like ( hessom laughed. lie," he said, " if "Why, Bin winsey frock ■ ) a now and a briglit ribbon or two can change you froln a hideous — I mean froni a (jueer little brownie, into the most charming little jteasant girl in Wales, what do you sup- pose a cloud of foamy lace and a jewelled necklace, such as tliis little fairy htvs on, would be unable to do, in the beauti- fying line for you? Yow are rather brownish," he added ; " but I see you're already getting the better of that." He picke(l up the trinket again with a puzzled air, saying as he examined it more closely than before : "It beats the dickins! there's a mys- tery here as sure as late ; and I've seen a lady somewhere — though goodness knows where, who's very like this pic ture !" " Oh I if my parents are only living !" said Birdetta ; " if I could only see them 1" Mrs. Gimp bustled into the litt e par- lour announcing supper ; and was shown- the contents of Birdie's locket. " Goodness-gracious !" ejaculated slie, after examining, with much surprise. the pictures; '-who knows but she's some grand ady after all? I allars thought that old Dame Policy was a sly old critter, anyhow." Bii'detta's dai-k eyes, as the good woman spoke, grew bright with spark- ling animation. A grand lady ! She had a <lim idea that to be a grand lady meant to be a creature very beautiful, very hajjpy and very e!egant; to be wealthy with hosts of friends ; and al- ways to be richly arrayed in costly silks and laces, and jewels, like the fair pa- trician daughters of the Glencroftonsof Glencroiton — a line old estate within sight of which stood Dame Polley'.s tumble down hovel. Chessom, lookuig half laughingly down at the girl, divined something of her thoughts. "Would you fancy being a grand lady, Birdie?" he asked. "Oh, it would be so nice !" said Birdie. I should have friends — so many friends, and a father and mother perhaps. Oh ! if I only had a father ami mother, I should be so happy ! But" — and her face was overshadowed again — " they can't be living, or else I shouldn't have Ijeen left witli Dame Policy all these years." Jarvis turned to Mrs. (i imp saying: "If there pictures, as they of course are, are those of Birdie and her relatives, there is a mystery about the aft'-ir as sure as Christmas. And this old crea- ture, Dame PoUey, Birdie — was she kind to you*?" he asked. " Mostly always, sir," said Birdie. n THE BANKER'S GliAXDCUlLDIlEy. H ;■ r •Do, ).m3, "avc your sui)por now, master .iarv,'" interrupted Mrs. (limp. " You must bo a fiiniisiiin" ; and cvory- thin^r I've gone and rookod '11 !.(.• «7/ "All right (Jimjjv," said T'liessonl. nsmg; and tlic l)ustling Dame was a tew momcMits later serving the carefully .V'ntten uj) meal from off'lier <juoer, old fashioned china, lirouglit out for the occasion. fhessom rode hack toCwmdaron that night, tliinking more th;in he liad j)ro- bahly over takeii tlie tiotfhh- to think before in tlie course of his aimfess life. " Wliat the dickins doc^s it mean '.''Tie said mentally. " Ifs mv opinion that this_ oid witch, Dame JA)Uev. fi)r some motive best known to herself, has stolen little Birdie from her relativi's or lawful guardians. AVho knows but I've jjicked up a great heiress, oi- some wondwful oreatun' in <lisguise ? TIow prettv she'x got to be !*" 1 . ■ Jfe reached liis lodgings, and gave Polsdon's in(iuiri(>s, as to whore he had been, evasive re])lies, nol mentioning his '(,ueer little Birdie", as he mentall'v called her He didn't care to hear anv of Polsdon's saivastic speeches abou't pJulanthro])y. and so wiselv held hi< tongue. CflAPTER X. The afternoon sunshine was softeniu" the chilliness of the brisklv blowing l>reeze the following <lav as ' ( 'hessoni i-ode toward .\ris. (dmp's llat-faced httle white liouse. Birdetta. standing by one oi the <'hint/-cuitained front windows, simled a shy welcome as he rode ui). Ife no<Uled gaily as he eaught sigjit of the bright face in its frame of glossy l)iMids, anddismountiug entered the eottage. An odd smile of amusement played beneath liis black moustache as he pic- tured his moth.M-'s digniHed liorror. and the curl of sarcastic contempt on h\-< sister's rijie liij, could they behold tlii^ untutored peasant girl— this homeless, nameless creature whom he, in a fi-ak of generosity, had picked u]) by the rough Welsh road-side, coming to meet him, her face all aglow with pleasure vanced: '*are y(ni all alone'/ WhereV CTimj)y'.'" '* Only gone of an errand sir," said Birdetta ; " she'll be back in just a little while. Won't you walk into tlie parlour, sir'.'''" Chessom walked into the little apart-, ment thus (iesignatcd and sat down in the stirt'-backed arm-chair. There had b(*eii a sort or hazaar in Cwmdaron that day, and, having nothing better to do in the way of killing time, Chessom had spent an hour or two among the throilg of towns-people and peasantry in at- tendance. There was a sprinkling of rollicking young country gentlemen among the crowd, who passed the time in drinking, and dancing and flirting with the gaylv arrayed peasant girls. f'U(>ssomjoined in this sort of revelry until weary of the wild carrying on : and then, declanng the who!i> tiling 'a confomided bore', left, after j)urchasing, as pr(^sents for Birdie, a number of the least gaudj^, and most tast(<fiil of th(^ many articles for sale . " flow that mufi I'olsdon would chaff' if he caiikl onSy have the s[)ort of watching me .just now," thought Jarvis, as he loc)ked on with a smile, half of pleasure, half of amusement, at Birdie'.s , unbound(Ml admiration of her gay gifts. I Mis. (limp coming in soon after was delightcnl with the numerous presents which Chessom had also brought her, among wliicli was a fine shawl, the hand- somest :uid waj-mest which he had found for sale in Cwmdaron. "How do you spend your time Iiere T^irdie r asked Chessom a little while later, watching the gii-las she sat busily sewing. « Don't you find things rather pokey sometimes '?" " < »h, no indeed,"" said Birdie, '' I've something to do "most all the time, and wIk'.u tlu'ie ij.n't anything 1 can read.'" "liead!" cried Jarvis, "what do you tint I h (M'C to i-ead, pray ? J suppse,'" he iiilded, "there are tbur standard vol- nmcs in Cimpy's librarv, namely : that < og-eared Bii»le, which Jhe hfkj thumbed (iaiiy and nightly ever since 1 can re- member ; the life of John Bunyan, an.l « * 1, ner lace ail as,' ow with i)leasnrr> ».; n;i^ • » V* ■'••" ^"u,>.vii, «iiu 4 t aJoijt. '•* Wb THE ILl XKEU'S GL'A NDCIULDHEX. •27 ere's 'f njUHtalittl,. ""^ >^at (lon-n in' ^".^ I>otte,. to do :;;'^' the ti..o;;;; ='of I'oIIiekfn.. " /inioij^r t,,^ ^essoin join p^j ""pa;^v of t Jj.. ^n deolaHmr "'•-'f'rl bore' [f<'s(.nts for' tga"<ly,aml articles for "ouicJ cljaff- \ H^ovt of * ft Jarvis, ^^, huli of at Bivduys after wan ' Pi'esents "gJifc iier, '^lehaiid. adfounj 'We ]iej.(. 'e n-JiiJe •■t busily "^ ivitJior 1^, and read.- lo you e," he J vol-. that tnbed n ve- , UJU] the re of Mrs. Mrs. . ()I, SOUK- painful- low; ^'ood-bye," and he tcjok Eirilio's ly good old woman or 'tuthei — I forget slender little hand in liisown. "Do hor name. Anything oLie — a it>w (/ond you know that you're growing to be *a tracts jterhaps." , dowiu'ight ]»retty little thing, Hirdio?" Bii'dic glanced up at him, a reproach- ' Birdi<> blushed and smiled, and when tul look, which she could not hide, in 'i« i"*^*!*^ away she stood between tlio lier eyes. For all the wild life, which ehintz window curtaitis and watched his the girl had led, she had, for leligious liaudsomc figure disappearing in the things, a reverence which one. consirler- <listance, with big bright eyes. irannng, would never have ing her thought possi])le .\11 along she hafl been liincying this Uandsome gentleman a sort oY (kmii- god ; and now his careless lialf scoffing words wete dispelling the illusion. I Alas for Birdie ! slie had yettodiscov- : er that C'hcssom, instead "f l)eing any- • thing like an immaculate individual, ciiAFrER xr. lUit tip who ti-'iiis ii stfiini v.'it.h s;iml, -Anil tetters fluiiii! with \vii\fii liaiid, 11ms M't m h;irilt;r iiisk tn imive, ■ \iy firm resolve to coiKiuer love. — .Scott. Let us, for a time, leave Jarvis CUies- som and his protege, and go back to Twickeidiani. The soft golden haze of ( )ctober atmosphere has faded to the \vas only a fashionable young man of tlie (Hm gray of Noveml)er. At Maplewood world, with quite as many faidts and there is 'the usual pervasion of i»leasant fadings as the generality of that cla.'^s , gaiety ; several guests have departed, I '^•'^'^*''^*^ j and (juite a number have lately arrived ; "There are other books,*" said Birdie;, among the recent arrivals is Lady St. •' Mrs. (imip has several which belonged i Avvas' and her daughter, and the for- to her son, who, she says, was di-owned. | mer'» nephew, Harvev Fairleigli. ( )n the There's a history of England— I'm read- i evening of which we write the great pur- uig that"— counting the volumes onherj j,ie drawing-room is nearly filled \vitli fingers— "and a history of Rome, and a! the guests of the rich banker. I'Ikmc romstock's Philosophy— I dc*i't under- is a' group seated about the grand stand all that : and a Natural Jlistory, piano, and :\rrs. Chessom is saying to and a Geograj)hy"— Birdie caught her j Ladv Winnifred St. Ay vas ; breath—" and oh ! J should just love to « f have been telling vour friends how see all flic i)hues it tells about !'" exquisitelv vou plav aiul sing, mv deai- Ches.som laughed. "Would you fancy I i,adv Winnifred. 'Tray favoi' us to- visitingall the outlandish places?" he j ni^^ilt ; h«e is that brilliant composition 'i«k«^<^ of Verdi's—von r<>allv do that divinelv !" No sir," said Birdie, "I shouldn't I Lady Winnifred sat <.lown beto e the like going to Africa ncn- to the North, | instrument and piaye i the brilliant where its so awfully cold : liut I'd like | piece indicated by her hostess. At its to visit all the beautiful places." I ending there was a i)olite little storm of " Then you like to read, do you?" said j ©xclaimings of admiration, and she was Chessom. " Oh, yes, .so much," said Birdie ; " I should like to be reading nearly all the time if I had the books.'' "Oh, you must have the books, by all iihpor tuned to sing. .She sang — and sang as she played, purely, gloriously. Ernest Willoughby, standing beside her, turning the i)ages of her music, while her sweet, exquisite voi(?e Hoated melo- means: you shall have a small library i diously tlu'ough the room, felt his heart of your own in a few days of my selec- I thumjiing passionately witliin liim. This tion; I shall not send any //oe'/lMjoks," i lovely Lady Winnifred I he was begin- he said teasingly : " but I will send you | ning to realiz(> how deeply and hopeless- some instructive as well as some ly he was learning to lo\ e her. Tut, tut I never mind that," he added, as Birdie began utter- ing her thanks. " 1 must go now Birdie."' he said, rising;" -uayl)e I will be over to-mor- A little frown contracted Mrs. Chos- som's high arched brows as she\letected the admiration in the glances which Willoughby bestowed ujion Lady Winni- fred ; and when that young lady had \ 2S THE BANKEirS GRANDCHILD REK ■ M I 1 ceased playing she managed, witli smil- ing adroitness, to send him from her side on some trivial pretext. Rose Castlemaine, whom our readers will perhaps remembei- as having, once before, been mentioned, ran lip to where ]Mabel Willoughby was seated : "We want you to sing now, Meb," said she ; " come along." " Mv. VValdogiave advanced. "Pray, come Miss Willoughby," he said ; '< I am impatient to hear those pretty Scotoli ballads which you pro- mised me." Mabel smilingly arose and took the seat whi.'h Lady Wiunified had a few moments belbi-." vacalcd. Iler voice was sweet and birdisli,— notso powerful nor as faultlessly gloiions as Lady Win nified's, but very i)ie;.iy, very sweet and charming. < ilencora ( 'he.vsom slp-uggcd her shoul- ders and made a yawning grimace as Jfabel sat down before the instrument. Glencoia never sang, and was a very in- (liffercut player. .SJie Iiad been all lier life too idle to acquire much in the way of lady-like accomplishments "Charming voice ]Mi,>.s Willoughby has," (h'awled Col. Vivian, addressing rilencora, as Mabel ceased singing"; " not so grand, and all that so.t of thing, as her ladyshi])'s, but verv charmiuij:, very." (jlencora smiled scornfully. " Ifer frantic screaming of tho.-e bag- piijeish Scotch ballads is sufficient to set one wild," said slie spitefully. Vivian smiled ; he was shrewd enough to untlerstand that :\riss Chcssom's dis- like of i\[al)el arose chiefly from envy and jealousy. " Ycui- cousin Waldegrave looks as if bethought differently," said he; '-in- deed," he added "maliciously. '< he seemed quite enwrapt, especially while Miss AV'illodgliby was singuig so sweetly tliat pa.thetic Jean.'" M iss tidng ' I'm wearin' awa Bcrn bl' ■ e;.: cool ( I V Si '''iiessom felt very much like ■". nith her pietty ])ink tinted it *. the Colonel's saucily smiling s ),ut she refi;)ined,\vith an oui the Mulady-like action, and r.i'ged I'ler white shouk'.ers,and contented hei.seH" by unmerc ifuliy snub- bing the blonde militaire a few minutes alter. Lady Winnifred bent with a smile to- ward Mabel as the latter turned from the piano. Haughty MissChessom had tossed her head disdainfully that even- ing and declared to Lady 8t. Ayvas and her daughter that " that Willoughby girl was the most deceitful, designing creature in the world," adding that ** grandpajja had taken an absurd fancy to her wisliy-wasliy.prettiness, and was deluded into believing her very angelic and all that, simply because the shy lit- tle milksop was always so attentive and devoted and ready to read to him or sing or play chess with him. Just de- ceit, my dear Didy St. Ayvas, and no- tliing else ; you see she is in hoiies grandpai)a may will her a snug fortune some dav," and Glencora laughed scorn- fully. Tjady Wiimifred looked admiringly at the fair, girlish face. There was an ir- resistable charm in the manner of this jiretty protege of the Chessoms — a frank ingenuousness about her that-pro- claimed Glencora's disparaging repre- sentations of her fldse ; and Lady Win- nifred. warm-hearted and impulsive, was beginning Lo take a real liking for pretty Mabel. " Your voice is sweetness itself, Miss Willougnby," said she with real admira- tion. ■'But it's not perfectly glorious like yonr's. Lady Winnified," said Mabel, smiling. , '•' Not so powerlul perhaps," said Win- nii'i-etl, "but very pretty and birdishly sv.cct." And they went on conversing, iliscussing music and favorite musi- cians. " Really provoking of poor Polsdon," said ;Mrs. Cliessoni, addressing Lady St. Ayvas, "tirst to carry Jarvis off on'^that stui.id .joiuney, and then to meet with such an annoying accident, detaining them both, goodness knows how long ; and dear.larvis, he must be moped to death in tiiat horribly tame little Welsh town, lie writes n)e, however, that in a fortnight atfiuthcst, Polsdon will have recovered sutficieinly to have Hnished his tiresn.ne business in the town next to the litae one they are now in ; and t THE BANKERS aKANDCHILVUEX. 29 n^V "'""'' ftom an ^1 '"^'"^ that ;n absurd fancv ^■^« tiie shy Jit. ' ^ t^ntive am, ^?^ to hi„,^;' ""^- -Ajstde ^?as, and no- '« in hopes ,f""g fortune i"^'''''ngly at ® ^vas an ir- ""erof this 'hessoms— a •^.'•"lat-pro- ^''ng repre- LacJy Win- '"j«'ve,was ffoi-jjretty Y^, Mm 11 admira- ious JiJce ^I Kabel, aicl Win- >ndishly veising, musi- 'sdon," n Chat t with lining Jong; s Pel to ^'eJsh at in bave hecj lext an(i then they will immediately start fori England." Laily St. Ayvas was herself a little im- patient ibr the return of her hostess' son. That young gentleman, as we lKi\e already stated, was conisidered a vei-y desirable ' oatoh,' and Lady St. Ayvas was now manccuvering to obtain a wealthy, if not a titled husband for her beautiful daughter Lady WinniAed had had many ad- mirers, and several offers of marriage, during ilie two seasons sinee her toming out; but none of them had been con- sidered by her ambition? manuna as qnite suitable. Thus far none of her suitors had been sufficiently wealthy. Among her admirers that sea>.on had been a young Welsh nobleman who hail sued in vain for her hand. Lady St. Ayvas had forced her daughter to reject him, saying regretiully : " Such a pity his lordship is so terri- bly poor ! Such a good family — one of the very best in Wales, but poor — poor as cliurch mice, my dear !" So his loi'dship marrii^d, instead of Lady Winnifred, a wealthy young heir- ess, not long aftrt", and returned to his estate in Wales, off of which I^ady St. Ayvas informed her daughter, with a shrug, it was rumored he had been all along struggling to pay a heavy mort- gage. And Lady Winnifred had sighed a little over the remembrance of her bright, dark-eyed Wel'-h wooer, and looked on listlessly while hei' mother manoeuvred for a wealthier match for her. Miss Chessom disengaged herself from a group seated about a table, looking over a pile of beautiful colored draw- ings, and swept over to where Lady Winnifred and Mabel were still sitting near the piano conversing animatedly together. Glencora glanced haughtily at Mabel. " Mabel you are boreing her ladyship to tleath with your tiresome prattle," said she insolently. Lady Winnifred flushed a little and answered hastily : " Oh, no indeed 1 we have been chat- ting delightfully ; and 1 have found Miss Willoughby very entertaining. Indeed," •he added, ''we have so many tastes and ojiinions in common, I nnx sm-e we are destined to octome the best of friends !" The carnation tint in dlencora'.'* cheeks dee])encd a litl Ic. " Indeed !" said she wiih a half sarcas- tic little laugh, "then I am sorry to lr.\'e interrupt(vl such an interesting tele a Me. But I'll warrant you'll have suffi- ciently frcfjuent opportunities ot hearing Mabel prattle while yoM*)*e here ; so it's no real deprivation. Shall I show you that prettily contrived automatic toy which I was describing to you?" And she carried Lady Winnifred off just as Waldegrave walked over to MalK'l, saying : " Will you come over with me, ]Miss Willoughby ? We wish to consult your taste concerning some of those lovely Ijicture::! yonder." Mabel walked over to the group about the little table and joined in look- ing over the pictures, among wiiich were some exquisite bits of French scenery, over which was being held a laughing dispute. Mr. Chessom, sitting not far away, playing chess with .Judge Harcourt, looked on with a hidden half smile. lie did not fail to perceive his nej^hew's evident preference for pretty Mabel, and he watched the young couple serenely, all unmindful of the glowering of Glen- cora's black eyes, or the uneasinr^ss in her mother's restless, furtively, glancing ones. "Just suited to each other," he soli- loquized. " Bertram's a fine lad ; and he can't find a sweeter little fairy for a wife than Mabel, in the country." Very different were Mrs. Leigh Ches- som's mentally uttered thoughts. That manoeuvring lady had all along been de- sirous that her brilliant daughter should wed the banker's handsome, wealthy nephew; and, now that she plamly saw how madly Glencora was learning to love her cousin, her desire strengthened to a determination. " Was he infatuated ?" she asked her- self, that " with bright, beautiful Glen- cora's lavishing, bewitching, flattering smiles upon him, he could find eyes or ears for any other woman. Alas ! the perverseness of humanity ! Here was quiet, almoBt slyly reticent U\^ r V 30 THE RAXKEirS nRAXDCUILDHUX, 1 ( -\ little ]\rab('l, wJio iicvci' tltittoivd, and vvliost! sinilcs, tliougli bright ami wiiinin,!.'. wcrc^ not tilt' eiic'lianting smiles of a siicu ; and, in licrpivsi'iu*', Waldo^i'a\(! ioi'got ill! the manifold charms of tiic hiilliant heiress — tlie l>rij.'ht, piciuant, han<-lity yonni? lieauty, witli whom half the clcijaidcH of hoiulon were wildly enamourtjd, .and hovered most de\ot- edly ahont the- jiretty, i)einiiless or- plian. Lady AViiniilreil and (lleneora were exaniiniiiir th<' handsome toy on tlie etaiterie when ti»e latter said,witli asu- pereilioiis glaneeat Willoujrlihy.who was gaily ri'[)lyin^ to some lively bt/iliii(iijco\' meny IJosie Castleinaine'<. '' How that insutt'erahly conceited I'dji yonder must iiave annoyed you, nry dear l^ady Winnifred — grandpa's clerk, I mean, lie is such a dignified sixM'imcu that I designate him the (hand l>uke. That idiotic little ( 'astlemain,'' added slie, "has just sense enough to listen with her little eyes wide open to his dry discourse, anil smirk at his occasional insipid witticisms, lait 1 was I'cally re- lieved when mamma inventeil some pretext for ridding you o\' the tiresome dolt. Of course, mamma saw, as I did, how awfully borod you were." "But if I looked l)ored, ^liss Ches- som, my looks told a very naughty false- hood, lor I was mucli interested instead,'" said Winnifred smiling calmly. , . Glenco 'a laugTiod sarcastically. '* Indeed,'' said she ; -'cif course then, mamma and 1 were stui»i(lly mistaken, and merely imagined that you looked ■ so, perhapa, because — for me at least his | — shall 1 call it g<'ntlemanly gravity, or i stifl' platitude — would be surticiont to ' bring on an attack of the dismals were ' I compelled, for an hour, to listen to him. You see, niy dear Lady Winni- fred,"she continued lightly, "I am a very commonplace ptn'son — not romantic or sentimental in the smallest degree. 1 should languish now wliere there was not a liberal si)riiikling of uKjsculine hiiUianity ; but they must be fellows of the jolly, agreeable sort. Nothing l)ores ' me so horril)ly as a specimeii of tlie ' lofty, intellectual kind." I Certainly Miss fhessom was what is j tei-med 'slangv.' and bailv Wimiifred I was now and then smnewhat shocked, and considerably amustvl. •* Now there is < ol. Vivian and Majoi* ' astl. i'ord, and your cousin, Fuirleigh, they have lite and vivacity. Yoiireousin is charmingly j<dly, bady Winnihed — awkAvard as a clown" — iiUMitally. •■ Ah, here he comes, and \Villoiigiil)y with him," slic added : and in a UKtment or two both gentlemen had crossed over, and Were beside them. < llcu'-ora was always Hirting. Tonigiit >he ha I snubbed the blonde Colonel : and he was just now (piite «levoted to IMis-! I.ocksley. ]\Iajor Castleford at present was Hirting with one of Judge llarcoiirt's languiil tlaughters ; ami Bert- ram Waldegrave ( ilencora was pertinaci- nusly trenting with su])erlative inditfer- eiu-e. So at present Fairleigh was tlie only available flirtee : and tiiat young gentleman, half bewildered by her en- chantments, was uncertain as to wlRvther the lovely heiress was an anyel with whom it would be presumtiou to fall in love, or, as he had heai'd say, a heartless, alluring siren. Toward Willoughby Glencora was haughtily indit^eient. She rarely ven- tured to snub 01-. in his presence, ridi- cule him; the ca,!m air of chillingly polite indifference which he always maintained toward her, generally re- pelled the insults which she would fre(|uently have liked to ntter. Lady St. Ayvas glanced a lai\guid rlis- appi'oval at lier daughter, as she sat pleasantly comeising with Willoughby. Not that ha.ly St. Ayvas thought oi' such a thing as her aristocratic daughter falling in love with the banker's clerk. Sij(di a ridiculous ideanever entered her iniad : Inu. as she afterward expressed it to her daughter, " that Willoughby girl and her l)rother were (piite suitieient- ly assumptive without encoui-agement." _ Long after Maplevvood house, on the night of which we have been writing, was silent, and it-' inmates had retired, Earni'st Willoughliy paced to and fro in his chamber—his ' brain whirlina— his heart thumi>ingtumultuouslv. He had fallen in love \yith all tli<^ fervor of which a natuie, like his is capable, with I^dy Wuuiified: and his j.a^ssion was all the deeper that it was hopeless— for hope- n H hi i< I \ 77/ /; n. 1 VA' /•;/.' n a n .1 a ix 7/ / /. /> /.' kx. ivJiar sI,o,rko<l. \oi,r cousin »> iiiiijfivd— "'"""'lit 01 'o- '''"lljjriil ','■ <-'<>!'>)„.I : <h'vnt,'<l to '<' of,rlu^^^, ?' and Boit- « P<^i'tinuei- '^ iiulim>i-- 'lilt yonn^r ^lei' (.„. 'i.iji'J witJi to fiifi in '^b' ven- leo, ndi- iiillijiijlv ally j-'p. ' ■»vonl(f Hi' I diV Jie .sat ",^'Jibv. tdu or ".afhter E^d Jie,. fpssed i.irhbv piont- ent."" 1 tfir itjiiir. ired,. I'o in -hi> licJi adv I , was; lici woii.ii us -DDJl luiv r.iit I'vf cDiiif to lii<l .\<)ii ,:{()od-ln>' t'iou:.'lit <>r\vo(>lii.rand\viiiniu<i the oyuo- I'o;' tlie piisciit, Birdie,'' said Clicssom a snre a- I.iidy St .\y\as' Itcaiitiliil daM::li- l(M' : Mild 111' t(ild Iiiuisfiri-f.-oliitely t!iat ho imist and ^v(lal(I cniKiiu-!' liis lovo of her. We resii'.N «'. -!ial enou'rn faint- III MOW k.-jit 111' f'lrAITEli Xli. litlh' wliik- hiU-r ; i'();sd<iii s wl'I to iitti'Jid to liusiiir>saL last." "doing away'.'" Bifdi<' asked ly. •• I'on't i(.>ok aLiIiasL little itirlie," an- swiiiil .larvis, t\vistin>,^ont'ofh«T silken rurls 'I'ouiul and "lound on liis tinirer. Polsdon's i.'state is only a litxle way i'rom 4nee we lelt Wa!(!s. it is lumr 'sunset <'windai'on: and we sliall not bo gone of a cliill Noveiui..!- dav on which we inneli moic than a wecdv ; so you see it's )iow writ.-, and .Ian-is Cli^ssoni ha.s just iiot!;iii,i:dr;'a<ll'ul alt. t all, aii<l I'll seacfh .lisinounted his hoisc hefofe tlie doovof Kilnivoch through for pretty things for yon, "What do you particularly desire nie to hi'ing you, Birdie?'' I'or reply Bir<[ie dropjjcd her fuce\on her hands and smothered a sob. < 'hes- sorn drew her gently toward him. *' Why my dea.r little Tiiidie," said he ; "sliall you miss me so very much ? A week isn't veiy long you know — though by .Jove ! it will seem so to me without you, my littlti girlie." Birdie sighed. ''A. week will sei'^e very long, sir. but " ' " But what Birdie ?" -larvis asked. ' " l>ut f w'as tJiinking ofafterthat sir,' Something like a week has sli;iped by Mrs. < iimi/s cottage. Within therein; a crudf yet sweet girlisii voice caroling some (juaintanomaloiis tune ; audChes- som [iauses to listiMi .\t its ending he ent<>r.-. " ' 1 heard the wee binl singing,' " la; exclaimed gaily ; and Birclie tin-ned 'rouiKl with a blush and a bright smile. "Sing fi.gain, Birdie," saitl he,- sitting down and thrusting Jtis hands in liis l)ockets with an air of attention. Birdie liesitated and said with a blush : ''But I can't sing pretty like the iadies you«<ire used to hearing sing, sir. N''.» one ever taught me how, only Dame said Birdie. '• l>on't you remember, L'olley's brother ; he was valet or some- you said the other day that you shoukln't thing to an Italian geiitleman who was stay in Cwmdaron but a day or two,after a groat singer and violinist, Signor On — you and Mr. Polsdon returned?'' and (tU — . Oh, I iorget what he called him. Birdie's fa(;e dropped on her hands " No matter," said Jarvis ; " but you again, haveatinevoice, Birdie, if it isn't culti- 1 .. j^^ i ^hall though, Birdie," said vate<l. Sing agam. Don't you know j^j.^jj^ . i' Tm not going back to England any songi '' 1 know this ono," said Birdie ; and .-the sang the old ballad : for ever so many weeks. Birdie's face grew radient. " Oh! I am so glad !" saiil she. Chessom laughed gaily. " That's, right, l)irdie : brighten np," Her voice, tremidous at first, grew ' said he •* Why \-our face is like an sweeter and steadier as she procee<led. April day. all showers and sunshine. •'ow Clin !i fioor (Jip.sy iTiiiidcn like mc Ever hope th" i'lond LriiK til' a n^ljle to Ije '!" She ^ang clearly, powerfully, and, con siderimr the very small amount of cnlti And now teUme,what shall 1 bringyou? A picture, eh '! ( >h never mind the vation which her voice had received, j thanks and all that. Ve'S I'll bring you with a marvellous sweetness and purity, a ilozen or so of the jirettiest 1 can Hnd. <Jhessom was really astonished. j And now what else? What? — more ■' Why Birdie," he said when she had j books? Why you're a I'egular little Htiished, '' you have what will be one of | book- worm ; but I'll bring you another the Very finest voices 1 ever heard, if j ease of them And now what in the l)roperly» cultivated. That was ready | way of finery ? A new cloak perhaps. well rendered." • and a pretty set of furs — liow would Birdie blushed and smiled, and they i those suit Birdie ?" chattered on. • ■ ■ | Birdie's eyes sparkled 32 TilE BAXA'EirS GRAXDCniLDREX. ' I \{ " Oh I thoHO would l)o (leli;,'htful sir," said sl»t>. " And thfi protticst ^ipVX locket I can find," added .Iai"is. <' All \'vj\\i, it's set- tled then ; and here comes the Gimj'." Mrs (limp eiitcMed witli a courtsej', and presently .Jarvis rose to depart, say- inj»: " Polsdon and I are going to take our- selves otr to-morrow. (liiupy. Be sine and ti\ke goodcaic^of little Bii-die, while I'm gone, which \vi:l only be for a week or so." Mrs. Gimp promised lo do .solo the l.'Ost of her ability, and, bidding blaster -Farvis a hasty good-bye, bustled out of the little i)arlour to attend to her eo^l;- ery, which, she declared, was '' al. a burnin' n\\ !" " Chessom took Birdie's slender little hand in his own. lie was growing strangely fond ot his jnotege. Ib'r womanly ways somehow made him lor- got how nnu'h a child she was in years " Good-bye, little girlie,'' he said , "Good-bye sir,'' faltered Birdie Jarvis looked ^own at the singularly i lovely lace, with its litfuid'dark eyes full ! of such a troubled expression ; and the I next moment Birdie found herself in! the arms of thi;^ aristocratic young gen- 1 tleman, receiving his impulsive kisses. ' Ten minutes later, as he rode away from the Gimp cottage he shrugged half impatiently at the recollection. Birdie pressed her crimson cheek against the window pane and watched Jarvis Chessom's figure disappearing in the gray twilight. " When there is love in the heart," we are told, " there are rainbows in the eyes " Surely there must have been much love in the peasant girl's heart that dim November night, or such a passionate glory could never have beamed from those unfathomable eyes of her's. " By Jove ! Chessom, you must have a sweetheart somewhere in Cwmdaion or its vicinity. These hoi-seback rides mean something, as siu-e as fate. Did you bid her good-bye to-night?" Char ie Polsdon said thisj sauntering up to Chessom, as the latter entered the little parlour of the evening. 'Lion' ir.n that Chessom looked supreme contempt. " F'ooh ! what a lautK you are, Pols- don,"' said he. '• Who do you suppose' she is? — oui- worthy landlortl's .s»j[uare- toed daughter?" Polsdon smiled calmly. "Not exactly,'' .said he. "By the^ way, who is Birdie AVylde ?"' I Chessom scowled savagely. " What do you mean?'' he asked. " Nothing particularly," said Charlie, coolly, " only I found this besides y our writijig desk, and I was a little cuVious to know wIk) the young lady was — that's all.'' " ' Chessom took the s ip of paper which Polsdon li(>|(l out, with a euiious air, and read the words which weic written upon it in hi^i own handwriting: "Birdie. r.ii(li(> Wv'de, ' was scrawled, " little lin-die.-' " I say, my rlear fello-.v, who is she?' pui'svi-'d I'olsdon, Cliessoni crushed thesiijiof jjiiuerajid tossed it into the lire, <ndy deigning Polsdon another scowl in reply. " By Jove I" said Polsdon, assuming an injured expiession ; " but you needn't level such a scowl as thatata fellow, my dear boy." • "At what time ai-e we to start to-mor- row ?" asked Chessom, without noticing his friend's remark "At half-past eight oVock, A. M.," answered Polsdon ; " but my dear fel- low, don't you know it isn't according to the rules of etiquette to change a con- versation with such abruptness ? If you won't tell me wbn Birdie Wylde is, tell me is she handsome ?— she ought to be, with such a deuced pretty name. Has she golden hair?— Pve a weakness for Titian colored tresses." "Will you go to Guinea ?" asked Jarvis, walkmg stiffly over to a window oppo- site. ^^ Polsdon smiled, and pulling a news- paper from his pocket began pe. using its columns. CHAFIER XIII. " It is just a week since Birdie stood at the httle parlour window last, watching Chessom, as he rode aWay in the dull November dusk. It is evening again, and she parts the chintz curtains and ^ y \ \ \ \'. % tluM Ule ?•' " i iiton II. '^ 'needn't '^ notici, ^S <^ear fe]. 'ordingto ffe a con- Jfyou t's, telJ it to be, e- Has ness for Jar Vis. ne^irg. "sing ■f^' ...-■*^ JcUt hing dull » M ain, ^f uid TW r///: BAXKEn'S aRAXDCinLDUEX. u looks Jrouniilv out into thr gray twi- Ifel.t. " Who knows but he has oonie to- night,"" she luuinuu'rt, " iind will he here to-morrow ? — Uh ! 1 hoi)e so." Presently she discerns, in the gather- ing (Inrkness, a figure mounted on liorse- back coming toward the cottage. She watches steadily for a moment or two, antl then murmurs breathlessly : " It is he ! it is Mr. Chessom !" The next moment the horse is reined before the cottage porch, and Birdie runs excitedly out to meet its rider. Jarvis sprang from his saddle, crying gaily : " Holoa I Birdie, you weren't expect- ing me so early — were you little girlie ?" '• No indeed," answered Birdie ; '• but oh ! I'm so glad youVe come sir." Just then Mrs. Gimp appeared at the door courtesying, and they entered the cottage. Chessom threw himself care- lessly into the big arm chair, with its stiti" back and puffy chintz covered cush- ions ; and Birtlie sat down on a cricket at his feet, and looked up at him with bright black eyes. "I'm famished, ravenous, Glmpy," said Chessom. " 1 didn't stop at the ' Lion' longenough for supper, and I've a wolfish appetite." ''Bless your life Master Jarvis, 'ow thoughtless of me not to a thought of it," said Gimp, and she bustled off. Chessom looked down at Birdie. " Were you quite well dux'ing my ab- sence, little girlie ?" he asked. " Oh, yes sir, quite ; but it's been such a long, long week." "Did you remember to dream of me missey ?" he asked laughingly. " I dreamed of you every night sir," Birdie answered artlessly. Chessom slipped a glossy ringlet be- tween the leaves of his pocket-book, as Mrs. Gimp entered to lay the table for supper. Birdie, with a blush and a bright little smile, had severed this jetty tress from her head, at his request, and in return, Chessom had given her a miniature likeness of himself, at which the girl gazed half worshipfuUy. After the evening meal was partaken of, Chessom resumed his seat in f;he old arm chair, and looked down at Birdie, who had taken her si^at on the cricket again. "Little (I Htfrlously, 1 received girlie," \\o said, v<' something to tell you. ^ . .. yesterday, a telegram from London which inlbrme<l me of the illn«'ss of my grand- father ; so you see, Birdie, I am com- pelled to leave Cwmdaron at au early hour to-monow. I'm sorry to leavi^ you, little girli*-; and I «lare say you'll find it i)okey enough here ; but I'll send you I (K)ks and jiretty things every dny or two ; and sometimes Birdie, I'll como over and se«' you again.'' " Is yotu- grandfather very ill, Mi-. Chessom?' asked Birdie, trying to be calm, though the bright caVnation in her cheeks had faded to the palest pink. " Very ill at present, though, as he is somewhat subject to those attacks, hopes are entiM-tained of his recovery," said Chessom. Birdie sighed. In all her life before she had never had any one to care for ber, excepting crusty Dame Policy's lame brothei-, who had taken a fancy to her bright face and quaint old-fashioned ways, and had taught her to read and sing ; and at his death had bequeathed her two or three old books an<l a little gold ring which he had purchased yeaiK ago, he told Birdie, to ac^prn the finger of a bright-eyed peasant maiden, who proved to be a faithless coquette, and (lisdainfully returned the bright lit- tle circlet when a swain, possessed of more of the world's goods, happened along. Whimsical, capricious Jarvis Chessom had been very kind to this homeless orphan, and she had learned to regard him with a species of idolatry. " Don't look so sorrowful. Birdie," said Jarvis. "Sometime I'll drop into Cwm- daron again wlien you're least expect ing me." Birdie made a desperate effort to choke back her tears and failed ; with an irrepressible .stoi-m of sobs and weep- ing she buried her face in her hands. Jarvis was always in an agony when witnessing a woman's tears. lie caught Birdie in his arms with passionate im- pulsiveness. "My darling, my precious little ;h Tin: n.iyK'r:irs anAMtciiruiiiKX. » I' I !Jir.ii.>:" li:' i-ir-l ; '• \ sluiH WA lik- ;i i'lUtf to IciV.' >M'l ivi tlli> lIlOJi.''.. tiiitl;m.lirt]i jilnwi-."' nifilic lookt'l ;i;., !-"viii>r fulti-i'iiiL'ly : '' ft isn't tllJlt, -iV. 1 llilVC IxMMI Vi'!'V h,ipi)y Ik'Ic, i)M(l M;-. Oiiiip liu.- l'<'!n V© -v k\\v\ to nil' : It.it "' "r.UtwIlilt.litllr iru.ll'.'? M;li'vl>.il!( ;- lion 'A. *' But I ftn-l us it' I w.-M' iic\cr ;.rM!ii;r '<■< -cc yon a,Lj!iin. sir. Oh I I wni sni.' I iicvNT shall!" iind ?>ii'Ue broke <l'.\v;i ;t>riiin. "Nonsense, ])ii''rK',"' answeitil ( he.- 'oin : "wlien the pator vecevei', I'l! Miai'ch straijiht l-iiek to "Wales on I'lii- pose to s('(^ yon ; and Pll get >onie nioe sensible lady or dthcr to taj-.e you to her honso and teacli yon m;i>ic and I'rt'nch and drawing', and all the l.id.y- lik(^ aceomplishnuMits. CIict up little •girlie." iSo Birdie brightened np as he Iiado li(M ; and wlion ho bont to kis«i her good-bye that night, she choked ht-:' sobs bravolybuok.an<l sniiled tip bright- ly throtigh hor toars, ovon when her heart koi>t whisporingniotu'nfully : 'dfc will never come l)aek ! f shall neve!', never see him airain ! ' 1^ CHAITER XIV. ''vWhat an idiot I ami One wo'ild tl^iiik X was really in love with thoijiieer waif—a mere child too: nud yet she is )iot atallchildisli.bnt verywomaiily and miirvc}l,nisly pretty, too, if slu; weiv oidy fasu'ionably arrayed."' .larviis .fOliessom .solikwiiii/ed thus, while being .whirled in the rAilv.ny train, away i'roni gray little ("\nn(L'U-on and Birdie Wylde ''Poor littk girl, how portentously." slw murmured: *' I leel us if [ wen- never going to .«f e you again," Clieissoia went on soliloqtihinf!;'. "'What a lUncy tlu^. little creatufi- .has taken for me to be sure. I was au idiot to promise th<' little thing that J "d. journey all tlie way back to that stnind Welsh village ; btit .■nhe really looked woebegone, i:)onr child ; and now 1 axxl in for it. I unist keep my word antl g«^ack to Cwmdaron as soon as grandfather a-ecovers." It was raining disagreeably when the rv^ip. set Jarvis down at the railway station, fi"o;n whence h- wa^ driven ii the travelling carri.ige to Mai>'ewoo( house by old Perkitis the coaeh-maii ".Vlitt'e euwier. sir. but very ill in deed, still," was Perkitis' reply to('he> som's iu'piiry as to wliether his gram! lath'r was any bettei-. 1 Mr. < hessoin w;is sutl'ei'ing severe!;, ' from an attf'ck of pneumonia, to wliici' In* was subject, ivnd which now, as wel, as on several jtreviotis occasions, thri'a; encd to prove fatal. '• Home at lust, thnidc fovttme,'" sai i .Tarvis sj^ringing from the vehicle, as ii stopped In'iore the door of .Majdewooil house, and entering he ran nj» staiiv (llenoora, who was <lescending thf <tair-case was the first to welcome liei l>rother. ''.So you've letnrned,"' was her firs; L,'reeting, after a stare of sin'i>rise at th- al)rupt rencontr(^ *' I thought yoii ■were never coming back. How like.' fright you look. Yoti must be famished . I'm always ravenous after a journey.' ".Sim]dy starved !" answered herbrti ther. "jlow is grandd'ather ? — an\ better?" " A very little. J)r. Trawford tells us : I >ut dangerous still. Poor, dear grand- l)apa — too l>ad, really— jtist as wo were about getting np oin- dramatics, too." "Oh! bother your dramatics. Ah, here comes the mater." ; • ' Mrs C'hessom, perceiving her son, advanced. She was a handsome woman, still elegant and well preserved. '• My dear boy," exclaimed she, ex- tending her hand ; " 1 thought you would never retin*n. Did you leave that stupid i*ol.^-d"n in Wales?" " Yes. at iiis own estate. Can I see grandf'aVuf ;at once ?" "No, not at once: he is sleeping at present. Do go to your chambei-and make yourself presentable You cut a sad figure i)i those travel-soiled gar ments. bady Winnifred iSt. Ayvas, who is in the drawing-room yonder, would really be quite shocked were she to sei you as you appear just now; she is sc fastidious.". " Oh ! so she's that kind of damsel, i- she? — one of the over-nice, exact sort. eh?" " Nothing of the kind," replied Mrs. TiiK /^^A'A'/•;/l'^s• (ni.\xi>rtiiLi)in:y. 8.'i < 'liosssni. "Slip i-i siiiif>ly im rlt^jiant, u'vaccful youuii lady; and lor on«;t< .law, pray, <'iidoav*)i' to Ih' more gallant, and l«'MS outlandislily hizun-t.''^ '• oh ! l>otlu'r gallantry I' ;zro\vl«'d tlio ticii' of ^laplowood. "lloloa! lion-'s Mabl«', wlio had loarnotl from a so r- viint of .larvis* rrtiirn, faint* fonvardwith ;i iMcny smile of wolconu'. ''Back again Jarv; I am so <;lad to -(•(' you,'' sho eriod gaily. Ciiossom caught hi« little cousin, -aluting h(M' with a hearty kiss, (ilen- <ora toss<»(l her head scornhilly, and «w.('ftt on down to the drawing-room. Something like an hour later the lianker awoke, and was pronounced by Dr. (.'rawford very much better after his long an<l refreshing sloej). On learning I hat his grandson had returned he ex- j)it>ssetl his desire to see him, and • I'arvis, who was sunnnoned, went up to the apartment wlieirin his grandfather was confined. .larvis sat by bin bed-side for some- thing like a half houi-, and then Mr. Chessom s.iid : "Tkoro my boy, go <lown to our guests. I need not detain you longer in this dismal chamber with its shaded ligh ts and overpowering odor of campbor and liniments. "And Grace,"' he added, addressing Mrs. Chessom ; " pi-ay pro- ceed with your ordinary amusements in the drawing-room. I thall not be in the least disturbed if you jilay and sing as much as you please. 1 think I shall try another nap now. (ioodnight, Jarvis my boy." Five minules later Jarvis was in the purple draw^ing-room, and being form- ally presented to stately l.a<ly St. Ayvas and her graceful daughter. " By Jove!'' said be, mentally, as he sat near Lady Winnitred, endeavoring to do the agreea>)le; "but isn't shea stunner though? Lofty and grand, and exquisitely graceful — too much so tor me ; she'd suit Ernest much better. She's superb tlwugh, and puts even <ilen in the shade. How Glen is flirting with that bluff little Fairleigli. Ptxir wretch, I pity him." " Is not Lady Rozenthrall about to -sing ?" asked Lady Winnifred, glancing aM'o>- ihc drawing room tu the piano, arouutl wliieli «|iiiti' a gi'oup ha I giithi'reil. hiidy Ko/.enthrall, who had latel\ aniveil as a gU''»it at .Maplewood house, \vi' have until now, omitted to mention. Slit' was the late l.or<l lio/eiithrall's widow. A singularly beautiftd woman, with a jiiili', pi'ouil I'iu'e ; and so yoin»^ and liiir, in aiipearaiu''*, tiiat one would sciircely have belii-vcd ii.-r to be five au<l thirty years ol age Her marriage with Lord Hozi-ntlii'all, it was rumored, was ii eouipulsory one; ho' father, the hit** biiroiiet Sii' Montlbrt Windham, havinp, forced his daughter into this union with his lordship. Lady Kozeiithrall was v»'ry w«•alth^ . and ail ooeasional visitor at Maplewood house. I<he took her seat at the instru- ment as Liidy Winnifred sjtoke, and .suig aiid played " Lucia di Lammyr- im)or."' The: • was a dec)) passion — a thrilliiitr inttMise sadiu-ss in the rich, unl'altering tones of her beaiitilul contralto voice. The hush whii'h i)ervade<l the drawing room, as she sat down before the instru- ment, burst into an entluisiastic little vofifeiatiou of api)Iause as she ceased singing and turned away. Lady Winnifred glanced eui'iously at Chessom as Lady Ii'ozenthrall sang. He was gazing so fixedly at the latter, with such an ex)iiession of puzzled perplexity; and <M-en after the lady's voice had ceased, still jegardetl her with such singular intentness that ha'ly Winnifr'vl half woiiil.'i'ed ii' tlie gay. nonchalant young hcii' ol Ma])'ewood had not falhni suddenly in l'<ve with this eold, proui'. lady. '• What a snberb voice Lady Ik>zcii- thrall has." remarked Lady AVinnifred. Chessom turned ^vith a slight start. Il(> had evidently ibrgotten Lady Winni- frcd's pres(!nce " Ves," replied he; "a niagnific nf voice, truly : and 1 once heard ii voice ISO very like her lady.ship's that, ha<i it been a lictle less crude, and mere fully ■cultivated, it would have been precisely i the same." j "Indeed that is singulav : there are I very few voices just like J.ady Kozei- i thrall'-: her's is so gloriously ringing, 36 THE BAXKUns GRANDCHILDREN. 1/1 I' ..I 1 i so passionately, mournfully, swoet." ^ '* The voice ot which I spoak," said (^liessom, " was quite a.s ringing and ax passionately sweet, but the sorrowful pathos which characterizes her lady- ship's rendering of such pathetic songs us the one which she has just heon sing- ing, though much the same, was 2iot so luournfully det]) and touching." C'iencora, glancing at her brother at tiiat moment, wondered that he was •'onversing thus seriously. ''After all," thought she, "who knows but Jarv may fall in love with her stiff, stately, gold tressed ladyshij). How <lelighted that silken tonedhyp.xritical old cat, her mother, would be. Men have queer tastes ; but I should have given even Jarv the credit of possessing better sense. I hate that stately per- bonification of dignified elegance already. They have come here—the slv, mer- cenary, poverty- sti-icken creatures— for the purpose of entrapping Jarv into marriage with Winnifred. Mamma thmks it would be a very suitable match; Ijut I detest the girl alreadv. I hate keeping up a semblance of civility toward her. And I do believe the idiot IS becoming, in spite of herself, in love with that beggarly Willoughby. How the elderly party would fume were she to discover the fact. I can imagine her scornful— "wy daughter and a clerk 1 rideed ! " 1 hope ,1 arvis will disappoin t them m the end. What sport it woidd l»e now, if the never-ending visit, which 1 see they purpose making, should amount to nothing after all 1" CHAPTER XY. MR. lUMMEI.TOX. The days sped swiftly by, and the l)anker, after his sudden Unn for the l)etter, speedily convalesced. Prepara- tions for the proposed amateur theatri- cals progressed with rapidity. Tlu'v were to take place at Christmas, an<'l th«re was all the confusion of rehearsals scene-painting, fixing, etc. (ilencora Oheasom was in anything but an agree- able frame of mind. Instead, she was in a decidedly savage humor on the particular Bight of which we are writing, Artimise, her French waiting-maid, who, in three years service of her capri- cious young mistress, had grown very much accustomed to her freakish fits ot furious temper, was fully aware, as she combed out Glencora's long black tresses that night, that that young lady was in an unusually unamiable mood. Most people could find very little that was attractive about this slender, cat- like French girl, Artimise ; but Glen- cora had taken a peculiar fancy to hei- from ±h« first, when she came in answei to an advertisement for an experienced waiting maid, which the banker had caused to be inserted in one of the Lon- don papers ; and such a decided fancy did Miss Chessom take for the French girl, that cle at once determined to engage her without one reference. She had marvellous skill and tact, exquisite taste and deft, nimble fingers. In short she was all that could possibly be desired as a ady's maid; and the longer Miss Chessom retained her the more indis- pensable she found her. "Artimise," demanded Miss Chessom suddenly, after a few moments' silence, during which she had sat, looking dis- contentedly at her reflection in the mirror opposite, while her maid un- bound and combed out her hair, " tell me what you think of our guests ?— of my cousin, Mr. Waldegrave, for in- stance ?" " Oh, I think him very elegant, verv distingue, Madamoisolle," said the girl smilingly. ' " Bah I one can see all that at a glance; but what more, Artimise ? Speak freely: you are quick at reading faces." "I think him keen-sighted, Mada- moiselle, and a very little cynical, and intensely proud; but I never should have thought his taste so— so verv ?izarr«, my lady." "What makes you think his taste so odd?" inquired Glencora carelessly. *|0h, he is attentive of late to that insipid httle creature. Miss Willoughby. He will marry her yet— depend upon it, Madamoiselle." Tir"^j?,?* "0"8ense,Artimi8eI" exclaimed Miss Chessom, scornfully. " I gave you the credit of possessing more shrewdness. My cousin sees, of course he cannot help it,how determinedly the girl is bent upon captivatmg him ; and he merely amuses '*^;f*^' "•».; ecameinanswe, the h^-'^f "«nced ^«e banker had none of the 1^7 % decided fane,' <ietermined to f ference. Sh^ , '^/% be desire, '^^e laoi-e indis. ^^««Chessoni cents' silence. ^'/poking dis- '^*ion in thf. r n^aid un. 4 ;^rhair, '(tell ^gttests?-^r ^'^'^'^ forl^. THE BANKERS GRAXDCUILDREN. fare, '?J?ant, verr f^icith^gS: atagJance; ^eak freejy; ^d? Afada- '^^"^''ai, an(/ ^er should ■so vejv ' taste so 58s]y. f to that J°"«iibv. I' "pon It, liiinsolf l.y occasionally flirting with the little imbecile That is aimplyall. But we are to receive a new guest to-morrow — a Mr. Rimmelton. Grandpapa is en- tliusiastic about him. His father was a very intimate friend, and a college chum «»f papa's, I believe ; and Belle Harcourt, who met him at the house of a mutual friend in Lomlon, declares he is really rxquisite. Of course she is no judge ; but I mean to be splendidly gotten up when he arrives, anyhow. I shall want you to take two hours for my head." "I suppose the gentleman is wealthy?" said Artimise, interrogatively. '•Bah! iio, poor as anything," said I (Jlencora contemptuously. " His father, who resides in Morf ombe, was once im- mensely wealthy ; but lost nearly every farthing a year or two ago, in some speculation or other. So he now sends his son and heir fi-om Morcombe to Twickenham in search of a wife, in the person of .the granddaughter of the wealthy banker. Won't 1 disappoint the clan though ? I must look superb to-morrow night, Artimise. I shall wear the richest toilette, suitable for the oc- casion, in my wardrobe, and it must be something which will look well with rubies — I must wear my rubies; they become me marvellously." " Your black velvet, Mademoiselle," suggested Artimise. " Y<;s, that will do. You may go now, Aj'timise," and the French girl gUded away. Glencora sat down before the fire, her long black hair streaming <iown ovei the <rimson cushions of the rocker into which she had sank carelessly. *' Oh ! how I detest that Uttle simple- ton. Judge Harcourfb wife. I could have strangled the httle idiot when she told me, with one of her detestable gig- gles, that if I said another word agaiust 5lr. Waldegrave acting as (''orsair to Miss Willoughby's Gulnare, she should actually believe me jealous." Glencora's black eyes flashed as she soliloquized. Judge Harcourt's energetic little wife had at Mrs. Chessom's request, under- taken the management of the pnvat»: theatricals. She selected pl&.ys, listened to rehearsals, planned various costumes for the various participants in the di-a- matic amusements, and searched th».' family jewt;! casket for gems most suit- able for the adornment of the actors. That eveuhig the merry little . lady had summoned her troupe to the library for their first rehearsal, and, much to Mrs. Chessom's annoyance and Glen- cora's disgust, selected Bertram Walde- grave as Corsair to Mabel Willoughby's Gulnare. " They will Ao it splendidly together — do vou not think so, mv dears ?" she exclaimed, running up to whei'e Glen- cora and l4Kly Winnifred were seated. *' Oh 1 my dear Mrs. Harcourt 1" ex- claimed Miss Chessom ; " thfit childish creature will be sure to spoil everything: besides, Waldegrave will be awfully bored." " Bored ! oh, no, I am certain not ! He expressed himself delighted, and seems, I am sure, marvellously inter- ested already. Now don't you agree with rae. Lady Winnifred, that they will do it charmingly together. "Why, yes, admirably, I should think. Mr. Waldegrave looks dark and haughty enough for a Corsair ; and lam sure Miss Willoughbv will do Gulnare delight- fully." " • Glencora's lip curled. "That silly child will make some faiix-pas, which will render both herseU and Bertram awkwardly ridiculous, depend upon it, my dear Mrs. Har court. Can you not find some part for the Willoughby girl which no one else wishes to take?" she asked with a laugh. Mrs. Harcourt was a shrewd little woman. She nite understood Miss Chess irn, and ^lied with a wicked little laugh : '' Now Glen, dear, there isn't another part better suited to Mabel, and if you say another word against it I shall really behove you are jealous." She flitted away with another merry little laugh, not giving Glencora time to retort, and the next moment was drilling Major Castleford and her languid step-daughtei- Beilo, vho were to act as Romeo and Juiiot. (tlencora rocked to ani fro among her crimson cushions that night, with u m i ' 1 1 :ii i( ."" 'A^ run BANKER'S GRAXDCHILDEEX. wrathful vohoinenO(?». That she, tlic mtignificentbolle, who turned the liends of men by the score, with her beauty and briniance aud wealth, should find ;;11 her manifold charms and luring smiles lavished for naught upon an individual «} insensible as to be indifterent to them iill, when in the presence of one slender, l)lue-eyed, penniless orphan girl. Oh I it was outrageous ! Had Waldegrave paid Jiis addresses lo another than Mabel Willoughby, and liad there been at present another, as she phrased it, * decent flirtee,' wliom -lie might dazzle with her flashing eyes .111.1 encouraging smiles, the brilliant lieiross could have borne ^vithsome less ' It^gree of chagrin, her stately cousin's (lispassion. But as such was not the ease,' as , \V'aldgrave seemed inclined to fail head and ears in love with pretty Mabel, and .;.-( she declared, there was 'not another man worth looking at,' the fair < lliniconv ^^as in- an exceedingly unamiablemood. To be sure there were genthnnen in- numeiable, but most of them had learned to beware of the dangerous beauty, their inetaphorie wings haviiig already been >inged. She had flirted lavislily with our friend I'iiirleigh, since his arrival at ^Majilewoiod lialf bewildering that indivitlual with her many fascinations. Ihit she tired of t hat i)astime at lengtli, declaring that it was 'a bore, endeavoiiug to tame such a savage.' .,; ,^, ,.".. C'ol. Vivian was now consoK^d by the smiles of Miss Locksleyj and dashing -Major (.'astleford, having vauily sued for ihe hand of the rich banker's C0'|uettish .^rand-daughter, ^vas fluttering about dreamy Belle irarcourt,whose papa was knonn to be considei-ably \vealthy. Ho Miss Chessom Avas impatient for tlie iiirival of Mr. Rimmelton. "What will he be I'ke, 1 won.ler?" 1 aentally queried the yo\uig lady. '• Ter •ibly common place, doubtless; but, I Iiope not so hideous as that barbarous little Faii'leigh. Ha, ha ! All the way from Morcombo in search of the thoii- >ands which are to be mine. <")h, T shall have him making most veJiement love to me shortly, and then--'' and the iuniiible Mi«s (."lics'^om lauslw^d Hjrhtlv. The next day came, and with it eame Mr. Rimmelton. Glencora wasresplend- ant in rich black velvet and rubies thai glowed magnificently; andArtimise ha<l certainly gotten up her young lady's head wonderfully. Mr. Rimmelton was dazzled when presented to the brilliant, bei ildevidgly, charaiing heiress ; an<l that eor/nottis!! lady discovering that her grandpapa's new guest v.-a.s n()t only quite handsoriKi but veiy entertaining and witty, bestow- ed her brightest, most alluring smiles lavishly upon him, and did her utmost to captivate him. Sprightly little Mrs. Ilarcourt sum- moned her histrioiiic troupe to tlio library, the next evening after Mr. Riumielton's arrival, for their third rehearsal. Of coiu-se that gentlema:i was 'enrolled among the dramatis pa- soruc. ''We are to play 'Much Ado About Nothing,' "' Mrs. Ilarcourt .said, address- ing Mr. Rimmelton. "You will favor me by becoming Mis? Chcssom's Bene- dict." Ofcour.se Mr.Rijumelton was delighted with the privilege of acting with Miss Chessom, especially as that young lady was so flatteringly gracious towar«l him. "Mr. Rimmelton is so (hhonarie, ho vivacious," whispered the Judge's wif^ to Glencora 5 "I am certain he will do the ])art of the lively bachelor capitally." " 1 am immensely relieved," laughed Glencora. " Do you know," slie added, " that I was fearful legt you might select that brusque, savage little Fairleigh as my Benedict j I should never have foi- given you, my dear Mrs. Ilarcourt, had you done so. He acts with that Wil- loughby girl's hiend and confident, Rose Castlemaine, does be not? What a charming couple they will make, to be sure," with a scornful little laugh. Mrs Ilarcourt chattered on. " How delightfully your brother does Claudio. lie makes a ca])itrtl jealous lover ; and Ida Chesley does Hero very nicely." After rehersal they adjoui-ned to the blue drawing- roum. "The plays are all selected uoav,"" Cried Mrs. Harcourt; "and there aiV TJIE BANKFJirS GliAXJfCHILPL'EX. IV (' ;:^ "-'th it cai^^ /^^y. bestow. "^^, to the after ,Vr. gentlem-t;, ♦J» a^lUress- *^'J"" foVOi' «!'« Beno- ^"n« ladv ^ towuil/ pxtally.' Unghe, \ ■ added. It select PJ>h as ^ve foj-- 't. hiul fidenf, ke. to augli. ' does alouK ai{> S'.l niiitc as many as we shall be able to at- | t'l-ud to." *' To-uioiTow, my dear Lady Winnifred, .vr shall decide what part you shall take; iii(iu<jii I opine at ome, you had better j.»hi '\\\ i\M 'Merchant of Veuioe,' as i'wiiu, with Mr. Willoughby," nodding \vitlia,smi'e toward Earnest, "is Lord i.'.assanin. ^Miss Giandonacts as Ncrissa. Tliere. that will do admirably, will it not'."' ^[r. Willoughby smiled and bowed eagej- assent, with an odd little thrill I hat was a mingling of pleasure and un- easiness, at his heart. Mrs. Chessom lemained grav(dy silent, I^dy 8t. Ayvas eoughed slightly, and looked haughtily disaproving. while (deuoora's arching «iark brnws lifteil in disdainful surprise. By all the rest tlie proposal was carried /ifm-con. Mr. Chessom was now able to descend lor an hour or two's chat in the drawing room, and a game of whist with J udge rfareourt ; and the remainder of the i'vening passe<l pleasantly with its usual loutine of music and merrv conversation. CIIAPTEll XVI. Twi or three days have passed, and the one on wliich we now write is a bright and pleasant November tlay. It is morning, and Mabel is engaged in the tloral decoration of the vases. She I- lands In the breakuijst parlour with the !>ri;aht blr»ssoms scattered about her, nnd iiAakea p. charming picture, with her •i» ilow gold hair looped up, and a spray <»f vviiii-^ '-ose buds tangled in among its ineli'v '•! i)p;«s of light. Mr. Waldegraye enteiv" with a gir'ceful l>ow. " (rood morning, Miss Mabel," said he. Mabel turned with that bright smile <if her«. " Good morning, Mr. "Waldegrave ; is it not a lovely morning?" " Charming,*' replied Bertram, ad- \ancing. " How exquisitely you have arranged tiiose flowers. Miss Willoughby. You i>-i-e the household Flora." Mabel smiled. '' Oh, I adore flowers," i^aid she : " I tliink I could scarcely exist where they v/ere not." There was a light step on tho thresh- hold, and (dencora entered, superb ii a rc<-hi;rc!n' moi'iiing toilette. •'."^Sentimentalizing';" she asked sav- castically, catching something of Mabel"-; last M'ords, Mr. Wal<!(\^'ravo glanced smilingly around as lu' linislied fastening a velvet) blos-om in the buttoudiole of his coat. '^lionjovr, my dear cousin," said he. "No, we wore not sentimentalizing ; but we w. !•(• admiring those charmiii.; flowers. Call you wonder when your cousin has arranged them in such an exquisite manner?" ChMK'r'ia glanced indiflerently toward the bo(p.!(rts which Mabel was ju'eparing for the vasi ;. and, carelessly picking up a crimson luoss rose bud that kiy among the gay blooms in the fanciful basket, iii whiili Mal»el had gathered them, jjassed overto an opi>osite windo^v. ^.'^rs. Chessom entered i>resently, and her ilaughtor turned from the window, saying ; '• Mamma, whatever in the world is the meaning of this last freak of Jarv's '.'" "What freak, my dear?" inquired ]\I)'s. Chessom. "Why, I actually heard him last night, endeavoring to persuade Cai)taii, Denham of the Scots Greys torepreseni him, and play Claudio, and begging Mrs Harcourt to accept the Captain a- a substitute, as business of importance, he said, would call him back to Wales. Ami he declared to Lady >^. Ayvas, a few moments later, that he really found it necessary to start wiihin a week." Mrs. Chessom looked surprised ami annoyed. "Is it not too i»rovoking of .larvis ?" she asked, aildressing Waldegrave. "'!'( i think of his wishing to run off' again in this rediculous fasliion, and the hous<> full of our guests. Oh, he really must do nothing of tho kind." So, later in the day wlien Jarvi> broa<'hed the subject of his hitended trip back to Wales, he was met by his maternal relative, with such deterjuinerl opposition that, declaring himself, for the sake of a quiet life, willing to place his own uicliuations quite out of con- sideration, he decided for the present, at least, to relinquish the idea of a second jaunt into the west. 40 THE BANKER'S GRANDCHILDREN. n /' * lit f Prepai-ations for Christmas progressed with much rapidity. The bustle mvolved by the getting up of the dramatic scenes was immediately followed by the grand Christmas decora- tions. Mr. Rimmelton, after remaining at Maplewood for a few days, quite con- trary to the expectations of Miss Ches- «om, fell in love — not with the banker's grand- daughter, but with his protege ; and, strange to record, Glencora did not for once, seem inclined to be resent- ful that the gentleman failed to accord her the devotion which she received from many as a matter of coiu*se. In- deed, she no longer strove to attract ^him, but relinquished him instead, and Hirted indiscriminately with the gay inilitaires of the ^th. Sturdy, little Harvey i-' " h was now beginning to be seriously- (. »ured of Mabel's mei-ry little frieiia Rcsie Castlemain; and Glencora pmiled scorn- fully at their incipient love-making, declaring that, if it were not such tame pastime she should 'take that little cub Fairleigh away from her,' meaning Miss Castlemaine. It is now December, about a fortnight before Christmas, and, on the evening whereof we are writing, Lady St. Ay vas is seated before the m r ror in her dress- ing room, critically surveying her reflec- tion, while her maid puts the finishing touches upon her hair, and arranges her roiffure. " That will do, Henrietta," said her ladyship, as the maid fastened back the last smooth coil with a jewelled orna- ment. " You may go now," and Hen- rietta departed. Lady St. Ayvas turned towaixl her daughter, who had entered the apart- ment a few moments before, saying: " My dear, the more I think of it the more provoked I become, that Mrs. Harcourt should bo absurdly cast you in for a part to be played with Mr. Ches- fM)m'8 clerk. I think, my dear, you had better withdraw altogether, even at this late hour." "Withdraw,mamma?' exclaimed Lady Winnifred in surprise. " Certainly, my love, withdraw. Mrs. Harcourt has coupled the players most absurdly. The idea of your acting wit! that Mr. Willoughby; and that sill) child, his sister, playing with Glencora^ elegant cousin. I am sure Mrs. Ches som very much regrets having intrustei the^^roanagement of the affair to that chattering little creature. You shouM have heard Glencora remarking upoit the faux pas. Tlie dear girl is so charm ingly satirical." " But mamma," said Lady Winnifred, " I am certain Mabel Willoughby will do Gulnare very nicely. I think they, at least, are paired off admirably ; and, in my opinion all the rest go equally well together." Lady St. Ayvas smiled contemtuoush , as she remarked : ''Yourself and the grand Duke, as Glencora very aptly designates that conceited clerk of her grand-papa's, for instance." There was a little deepening of tli-"^ bloom in Lady Winnifred's cheek as slu^ replied. "Well, mamma, I am assured that, Mr. Willoughby will do his part quite as creditably as any of the other genthr- men." "Very possibly," replied her mother. "I have no doubt that the young man'^; histrionic abilities ^re very fair. In- deed, I think both brother and sister are quite good at acting, under any cir- cumstances. I positively dislike those young people. The giri, especially, Glencora informs me, is a most con- summate actress. A credulous person might easily be persuaded into believe- ing her a paragon. Mr. Chessom for instance, is really deluded into the belief that she is perfect, immaculate. So absurd of the dear old gentleman, not to be convinced that the girl's wheedel- ing ways are all acted through politic motives. Glencora was remarking last night upon her mameuvres to entrap Mr. Waldegrave — so ridiculous \ I real- ly wonder the girl does not atttempt captivating Mr. Chessom's grandson as yreil as his nephew ; but perhaps sh^ possesses shrewdness enough to com- prehend that such an absurd attempt would be quite useless. Jarvis really detests her forward waysyGlenie tells me, and no wonder." sil v^ tl S<l ^1 (i tl 1 ^' «nJ that «; n sure Af rs r?. ^" .*^,^nJc thev. 1 ^'« equally, ^el/ contemtuousJ; ;'''^n^ Duke, as ^na-papa's, fo,. ^peningofti,,. ^^'heekassL,. assured thnt other gentif). ^W mother young i„an'« •^y *air. In. ■^;and sister !f ^r any cir- "«like those ®sp»cia%, *no8t con- iouspersoi, 'to believc- ^essojn for > the beheC ^i«te. s„ ^fflan, not ' i^heedeJ- ?n politic *wg Jaet ►o entrap ' I real- >tttemp(; 'dson an 'J; »»ps sh^ to coin- »ttenapf, » rea?iy ^^ »e telh rilE IL I A' A' Eli S (; R. 1 SDCUl L lU? fJX. 41 i ; "'riieiv, my dear, is wlu-rc you. like Mr. Clu'ssoni, are deceived by her pri'- tendctl sweet artlfssuess. Ol' course (deueora iiuist kuow all altout tliem. they liavina resided liere for so long a time.'' '•(deneora Clies>om :s anytliin^ hut an amiahle youn^' lady, mamma.'" said Laily AVimiifred. '• Instead she is heart- less and I'ude. andarro;.'ant. and terrihly coijuettish. J do not like, her at all. uuunma.''' she added ]>ositively. '' Really. WinfTiiVed,"' replied her moth(M'. .you aic (|uite as um'i'asonahle in your dislike of (d(Mieoi'a as in your equally ahsurd likinizfor the Willouifhhy girl. I admit that 'deneora is sli;.'htly hizzdiTCixui] a little unconventional, hut not rude, my dear: that is too strong a tei'm.'" "Not so toward us, manuna, noi' to- wai'd anv other ot her iViends, to be siu'e: l»ut rutle and most unladylike in her treatment of those who ai'e poor. She is i)ositively insulting to all with whom she eomes in eontact. whose sta- tion and c-ii'i'umstanees arc inferior to her own. It may %eem ungrateful to speak thnsofoiu- hostess, manmia. but th(M'e is a something almost icpellant aliout ^Trs. Chessom, as well as herj 'laughter." . Lady St. Ayvas ai'dicd her l)rows in ~^ui'])rise. I "How unreasonable. Winnih'eil. 1 cou sider ^frs. Chessom the most amiable' [x'vson in the woi'ld. What. pray, do ' vou lind to dislike about liei' ?' ' i '• 1 <lonot know, nianuna.just what it j ■s aboift her thaf seem< to me disagi'et*- ' ai»ie. She is eertainly much more niiace and ]ady-lik(> in demeanor than (i!en- | cora : but still niamma, you remenilier the lines : I ' I do nut Iil;c yon. ])oct(>r Fcil— 'J'lic vcii.-nn why. I ciinnot ti'li : IJiit r ilii not like yo'i, I>oc#r)r Ptli.' "'{'here is something fioree and burn- ing, and glowering, in the «\yes oi' both niotli'M' and <laugliti'r : something that make-; m(^ shiver when I look into them.'' ' How \ cry absurd, WiimitVed."" said Liidy St. Ayvas, looking slightly annoyed. '• Lut there is the bell tor dinner. AVhy, <lid you not wear that charmingly got- ten ii]> blue faille, which. larvi- admires ? It really beeomesyou very nit:ely. That mauve is ver,\ i)retty, l)Ut not so etfee- tive as the blue — you mnst w(>ar it to- morrow, my dear." And mother and daughter descended to the diniiiL'-room ( HATTEh' XVI 1. Xifriit iiiiil lierufrly siu.ici.'t-' tln'ii di<{ fri.:^ht, ■*ii') sl(i'|., (luilir/y (iwi (if iiiu'l'.t, V.'uli 'oin 'liri't' !i;ir-ti's. .'iinl wildly tMlu',- th' yhiriii (Jf'liiiiiitcd di'c mis ii liusy t^\VMl•'.n. — < 'nivll II. It was late on the night of which we have bet'U writing, in our last chaiitei-, and for hours the imnates of .Maple- wood house had been soimdly sleej.ing, when Krnest Wiiloughby awoke from slumber, with strong smoke hall stran- gling him. and tlu^ sound ol bla/.iuL' wood- work craekling in the corridoi' without. He s]>iatig up. and op<'ning his cham- ber door looked out. There wa-; a roll of smothering smoke, a glare of crimson bla/e : and Ernest shouteil fire at the to]i of his voice, and then shut- ting the door rushed liaek in search ol'his clothing. Two minutes later the nhnle household was astir, and- all wa- wild confusion. Thegrei>t uj>per corridor in the -outh wing wa- envi-loped in tlanic. The feminine jiortion of the liousehold as- sembled ill a frightened group u]ii)ii the lawn, looking up in tei'ror as a >h'et oi Hanie liurst from a window of the cor- riilor "Are all liands out of the Ir.ii iiiug portion of the building?" shoui'-'i ^Ir. W'aldegrave. ''Yes. all out and miinjiu-ed." cried • larvis Chessom: lait bady St. Ayvas spi'ang forward, crying in alarm : '' Where is Winnilred '.' Wliei. '-^ my daughter?" There was an excited, terrified ' istlo 4:2 THE BAXKMirS GKANDCHILDFEK, n f ,; ler, ;ir .', wringing I,iuly WinnilVfMl was uowlici'c to ho seen! Slu! hful returned tdher cluuaber, (ihni- cora '.'hessom decUired, for the i)urpose of I'ecovering some artieh' or other, aiul had not returned. Lady St. Ayvas screamed frantically. Ernest Willoughliy [)laced a ladder against the siih^ of the l/uililing and rapiilly as<'ended to the window of Lady \Vi)niil're<rs sh'epiug aiiarlments. lie s)>rang into the I'oom, anil looked about him. Winnifred was not there ! With white lips, and a sickening feel' g of horroi- at his heart, ho dashed on, and wrenehed op(-n the door that open(Ml into the blaze envelojied corridor. The overi)owering smoke stiHod and blind^Ml him, but lying u))on the tlnvs- liold. he found Lady Winnifred. lie lifteil and eariied her gently to tiie window, and then descended to the lawn with his liurden. '•( Ih, she is dead — J kno\> sneisdead!" .•^oblied Lady St. Ayvas, bending over her insensible dau her hands w^ildly. ^label Willoughby knelt liesi(h' the inanimate Winnifi-ed, saying: '' 1. am sure she has but fainted, Mad.am. See, she is already reviving," us Ltidy Winnifred's eyes slowlv opened. After the first signs ofretumhig con- sciousness Lady Winnifred was very soon able to sit up among a pile of tapestry, which had been thrown upon tlie lawn. "My dearest child!" exclaimed Lady St. Ayvas, "whatever in the world did you go back to that terrible chamber for? —so very dangerous I" "1 returned for the purpose of saving my turquois jewels. They were dear Aunt iNIontford's gift, you know, and T could r.ot thuik of losing them," said Winnifred. " They were upon my toilet table," added she, "and I had secured them and reached the door when a great cloud of fire and smoke prevented nie from crossing the corridor. But pray tell me how I came here? Somebody must liave carried me from the corridor, where 1 suppose I must have fainted iu the terribly sutTocating smoke." A little tint ot pink bloom oame into Lady Winnifred's cheeks when informed that Mr. Willoughby had been her pro- server. Belle Harcourt grew languidly enthu- siastic as she described that gentlemai, ascending through flame and smothering smoke to the rescue of her ladyship. (Jlencora Chessom shruirged disdain- fully beceath licr crimson wrap. "Now Belle, dear, how absurd," said she. "Youwill cause her ladyship to believe that the young man has really committed some heroic action. Believe me, my dear Lady Winnifred, he merely did what fifty others would have done quite as readily had they bee'i cu hand.'" Mr. Willoughby, who had been called away for a few moments, now re-appear- ed upon the scene. Tiie flre was by this time extinguished, ! and the ladies were taken back to the house, and assembled about the flre which was lighted in the dining room. Several of the ladies were prostrated by the fright and fatigue, and lay upon sofas and took cordials and sal volatile, and shivered hysterically for some hours. Lady St. Ayvas from her sofa coolly echoed the thanks w^jich her daughter warmly profl'ered Willoughby for having rescued her from so terrible a death. Miss Chessom was decidedly out of temper " How horribly annoying!" exclaimed the young lady. "My superb brocaded velvet, which I was to have worn at the Dresden's ball— the most elegant afl'air in my wardrobe— and to think of it being- ruined l)y the barbarous smoke and black dust, before I had ever once worn it." Several rooms were nearly destroyed in the south wing, and the wide corridor was terribly charred and blackened. No- where else had the fire penetrated ; and, excepting a few articles in the apart- ments of Lady Wiunefred and Glencora, but little of value was destroyed. The dim, gray dawu gradually bright- ened into sunny daylight; the excite- ment subsided, and breakfast was par- taken )f. CHAPTER XVIII. The days have slipped by, and it is Cnr jtmas eve, and Maplewood house is g?j with Christmas decorations. " My dears, have you not yet finished those wreaths? IIow you must have dawdled, to be sure." Mrs. Harcourt Hits over, as she ex- ciairas thus, to where her step-daughters are sitting, wearing wreaths of holly, their white fingers fluttering gracefully among the dark green loaves and vivid bei" prei mui ute} aw ! tl'.ol iuiil co\| n\u| h.'i Mil is \U rati mM dv tliat fentlemai, THE ilAXKRirs Ci:.\Xl)C}lILDR?:y. 43 a«cl smocherin. "' JadysJiip. " ■"-'Sretl clisclai,,. wivip. '^absurd " said c Jadyship to "'111 has realJv K^'on- Believe eel lie inereJy /-"fJ en hand.'- 5« 'Jeen called o^v re-appear- extingui.sije^, ^«ck to the >o"fc the fire diuiii;r ,.o(,^ ^rostrated bv V upon sofas volatile, and ne hours. sofa coolly «•: daughter ■^ for havino- a death. * 'clly out of '' exclairaed brocaded 'o>'Q at the -gant affair of it beiu"- • ancl black ornit." destroyed e corridor «ned. A'^o- ^«'; and, "e apart- Gieucora, y bri^'ht- - excite- was par- ' »d It is louse is fiuished t have lie ex- ghters holly, 3efuiJv vivid !)erries, and siuiliuu' hack rcpii'-; r.o i!ic pretty nottiinjrs which .faivis ('ln'ss'iri niunniirs as li(> srantls nrai- ih "n sclrc'- iiisj sprays for tlu' wrcatli-.. Five iuin- ntes lator tiu' lift!'' la^lv n-;is ija'tiiiiu;- a\\a\' witii Ihi) irarlaihl,-; ii|) >;i \\r\- -w.n. " How chariniiiu''y ymi Ikivi.- r.rraiiiii'il lliosi; ot.lKT'^," i.w'IaiuH'il sh". a.'.ili'-s^iii^' Ml'. l\iiiiincl'.'>n. ami poin' in ^' !;> I'.i: '.'. rcali.s aii(! !'••>; (vuiisi'j; ahor.; nnc .)!' t In." yasalier.-'. iiiii" Mii'so, I'ljv obli;;!' IIM' 1'lSt- (jDinpiete, mT'' rli"y iio*"* A !iil uo'V oai- i|i'<j )iai io:,-, -ire ' a;l'''.''l v-li ', riiii- niii.ir over to wli ro ?Ii'>. ('Iil.^^omi ami licr daijuhtcr wii- sfaniliaii'. { "Yes, (:|ui;v. tuaiik to'vlacss." t(';)!;"(I Miss Cliesso!!! v.itli a ya'.vn. '-NolaiiiL' is .such a tircsoia'" bore,'* adth'tl >\\{\ '• ;<.s the niakin.a; and ;uTaii:riii^' oi" th-\s(;r;a!)'(- rate wreaths and I'esiooiiints auil 1m ijuets. r>!it siii);>o.>?c we JuljuiTii to ii;i' (Irawinii' room bciow. Tlie Missf's llareourt wer." solicited to plav and siny a certain ra-^lii'.'iiahle ducr, and an attcnlivi; uroup i;:Ui!'ivil a')oi;t tli.i yraiul piano as iliey tooi< tlicir iilaci-s. " Will not Lclv Hirdetta shvz':: ' iii- t*''!"i>n'. I fear onr liostess' pretty matcli- niak w'Z nianc'.uvre will fall thron<j;h. Winnifnal smiles upon Mr. Clies- i liaudsonie clerk, for all lier nuuu- iVcqiient furtive jilances of disap- 1. Do you suppose they are in love I'ach oilier':' — \Vi!lonu:iil)y and her ■-liip, I mean, if so, and Lady Sr. ^ really discovirs the fact, sli" will ii'ii'ily annoyed, I am certain ("' -c Lr.dy St. .\yvas is just dyiii!j: to li' !•! a nr.;tcii beiween Lndy Winvifrod •i;i'! ''.r.s.^oai; aiid, tliouiih lier lal^.•ship li t a ■ ■ i>r IV Wl I <\ A-, v.: a: :•;■ onittj dow"i'ie->s, Mrs. Chc-som • to lavor Mie scliein*' rpd'e as auieii r mo! he!'. Indeed, 1 hi-llcve <Iie is ('ioii'ons itii; ir shnuld suc'ced. -ee, it' the Si. .ivvas ;,i'e pooi'. tliey icusely ari^iom'.-iiic." Lo(dcsli".' lauLiic'd a< sh'> aildcd : !ie i> ac- ■, stately \i'i\>X. ten von.tlil'al will \\)n So y.w ini! '• Ami! as for Che.-vo'i!, I brJieV' 'naltv 0('C(imin:.r dcv ired to p'l 1. idv IVi'decta v.'io •iiusi be at ycuj's ii!s senior, appearance.'' .Siunethi m lik' in .'ite of her fjiiired -som'. a little w!;ile late S. !'ter a in.nricii..'.- s<,)licitation Lady 131;'- (letta san::'. We have alrc.dy described t'u' singu- lar sweetness ol tliis lady's voice. J '.r\ is Clicssom turned the pages of her n^l•^i(^ witli a curious expression in ids indoleul dark eves. '• Will your l;nlysh:p favor me by sin^- ino; this?" he asked presently. The piece indicated was a simple ballad beginning : '' [low ran a, I'oor (lipsy iikt' ini- Evtr hope tho pi(jinl Iji-i'lo of a uo'olu to !n''.'" Her ladyship sudlcd ard <'Anx: her clear toues ringiuji out in ijure, rich me- lody. Something over a montli before llie dark-eyed peasant ,uirl, IVirdie Wylde. had sung this ballad for Chessoni ; sind now that young gontlenian was niarv( 1- ling that the homeless lit^tie creature whom he had picked up by tlie stony Welsh roadside should possess, not only a voice, but a face so singularly like this stately lady's. There was something in it which aroused Chessom's curiosity; and he determined to discover if Lady Birdetta Kosenthal and his protege, Birdie Wyldc were not in some way re- lated to each other. Trissie Locksley bent toward Ada Har- court, saying : " Coraiug events cast their shadows de of I W'U.v iriirai an hour later l/nly I'ir- "vas .-(lated in Hie mid<; l)lo<)in an ! o Tfanh of I I ly liiilifed dravin:;- i-ooin c(.ui>ervatoi-y. Jarvis Cliessom was beside her, a:id they were talking of music. Chessom was saying ; •• I lliiidi the VI ry linest, or at least liiat which gav(! promise of beiu^ t'te v( !'y linest, voice 1 ever listencii to, ex- ceptinu' vonr ladysliip's, was that of an untutored peasant giii, whom I encoun- tered in Wales lust autunm. liKleeci." he added, glancinii; carelessly, yet ali'utle •-ci'iitiiiizingly, aliier Uulyship, "in rin::- iiig, p.'Uhetic sweetness Birilie Wylde's voice was not unlike your own." ^^taitly Lady Bird. 'tta started percept! blv, Jii'.d a slimit tint of rose stained, for a nioiuent. thai aiarbly '.vhite face (jf hers. '• Did I liear you ariuht'/'' she asked. " Did you call this peasant girl of wlioui you liave spoken, Birdie Wylde ?'' "Yes; IJirdetta Wylde. By the way,'' ho said carelessly. " her christian name is tlie same as your own, is it nor, ?' L;uly r>irdetta turned toward Chessom, a startled light, a singular interest in tlio deptiis of her splendid dark ryos. " 1 once kncNv a Birdetta Wylde,"' s'dd she, " pray tell me about thison<\ WIio knows but she may be in some way le- lated tB the Birdie of my ac<iuaintance:'' There was a carelessness iu tlie lad\'.H fl i ■" ■■•)»> , 1} |:if 44 TJfE nAXKKli'S fiRAXDCIIILDIiEX. • voice which Cliossom half suspected was'^ ship somcthiiiir of Birdie's history as sli'. iis.sumed. herself Iiad told it to !)mii. ii: '* Sciircelv probable, I think," said Jar vi-, stidliii;;': '-as the liirdle whom 1 have mentioned is only an nneducated liille peasant jj;irl, who, upon ilie death of liie old woman who l)ronj;;lit her up— Dame i'olly, I b»'lieve she called her— was left a homeless waif." Chessom stopped talkinj; and ;,danced curiously at her ladyship She liad ari- sen and was looking at him, wish a idckt so white, so full of intense exci Lenient, that (/liessom was posiliv(!;y startled. " Vour hidyship is ill, 1 fear," said Jar- vis, also ri.^ini!; hastily. "Allow me to l)riti;; you a jilass of water from the rn rat'i' yonder." Ili-r ladyship s;ink into the seat frou) whieli she had iirisen the moment before, sa> inu' : "Ne, no; lam not ill, only n)y head aches, and 1 am a Utile n"rvous tonUlit. I'ray lio on. What does ihi.s Birdie \Vylde look like, Mr. Cliessom ? ' Chessom smiled. " Vhe was Iwuvlly descril)able. Lady IjirdeLta," said he. wniuLrrnl dark eyes, you would tiiiiik of angels and fathoais ol liijaid jet, and all tliat sort of thinir, while her olive com pie,\iv)n and the wild<;rn*\'^s of black hair that hnn;; over her far bi-low her waist, re- iiunchd one of some ((ueer little browme. She was a sort of cross, in fact, betwixt elf iind seraph." Lady Birdetta was sinjrularly interest- ed in tlie affairs of Birdie Wykie. " I think there is just a possibility of my having' once known something? of this j»;irrs prrents," said she ; "notwithstand- in<;the fact that, as yon have said, she is only an uneducated little peasant yirl. But you have said she was nomeiess, iiave you not I" " Homeless when I lirst saw her; but a certain old woman, who lives in Wales, and who, by the way, was once a stTvant in our household, kindly ^aveherahume after the death of the old woman — Dame I'oUy, as she called her," said Jarvis. i:ot infoi'niinji- lur ladyship that 't was 1 imself who had found a home for the briicht eyed waif. " Are you certain that both lier parents are dead?" intjuired Lady Binletta. " No," said Chessom ; " there seems to be a sort of mystery about the affair," aud he proceeded to relate to her lady- " Then she has no clue by which tu find out who her p:ireuts were, or to dis- I cover whether they are livinj; or dead?" i asked the lady, ;^rowin;u;, as Chessom thought, a s.iade paler every niomeitt. " There is t)nt one thin<j; which is any- thing like a real clue," said Chessom: " that is a locket, ai present in my pos- session, which cdiiiaius four tiny pic- tures Birdie, who is now somethin;; over fifteen years of age, has had it over since she can remember, she t«'lls me." As he spoke he drew forth Birdie's lit- tle gold locket, wii.h its tiny vignettes and silken coils of hair. ■' You see," he added, holding the trin- ket towards her ladyship, '-one of the pictured faces so nuich resembled a face which I was certain I liad somewhere seen before, that I was a little curious, and nnule up my mind that if there hap- peiu'il to be a mystery, to unravel it if possible." Lady Birdetta took the locket with a Iiand that tren)l)led visibly, her face as Looking into !ier i white as tlie spotless petals of tbe pure wliite Camilla tii it nestled amoiig her abiuidant (iark hair. •• Your ladyship will probably marvel," added Jarvis, laugliin:i-, " that' I should thus take intert:st in the affairs of a wild Welsh peasant girl. 1 wonder myself, now and then ; but perhaps the indefina- ble something about her which tacitly proclaimed her a born aristocrat, for all her shab'oy surroundings, accounts for it. if Birdie turni; out to be the daugh- ter of some great personage or other, aud if I should happen to be the first dis- coverer of the fact, why 1 shall have to fall desperately in love with the little creature, and cud the all'air by a ro- mance." Chessom had rattled on with seeming careli'.ssni's.s, while his eyes were taking note of every change of "the varying face ofihel.idy. Wholly absorbed, she nei- ther heeded or heard his laughing words, but srazed at the vignettes with eyes fl.x- ed and intensely bright— the light of a dawning consciousness of something, wiiich the gentleman was puzzled to comprehend, in them. "ByJovi;!" mentally said Chessom; " it^^ just as r suspected. Her ladyship knows more than she'll bt" likely to tell uboiu all this. [ wonder if she has seen that; pic Tl thai "I b\aj anti ac(| \acii a hi ll an I Lai ap lacl onl vifj to I THE BAXKIlirS GPiAKDCHILDREN. 4.> iii 'W ^''■ory as sli.. 9 ^^y »vi,ich to ^V't-S or to tl is. ^'"ff orcleacj:-" '^■'^ CJiessoiij V'/''t'Ii is any. I'J Clie.ssoui- "t III my po.s." "»'• tiny pie. /^ornetlijji.r « iiad it ever «tdls ine." '^ii-die's Jit- '>' vi,§:Qetto.s J'".? the triu- ■■""« of the '"'>Io(I a f,ie,, soiuevvhere - ^^^' <^'i)rioiis, ^'i«i-e Jiap- '"'■'ivel it if -ket ^vith i 'i(-'i- /ace as 0/ tiio ptn-o nmo\\<r jj^.j. 'y marvej," ^ J shodhi s ofa wihl '«'■ ^nysQir, -;udttJua. ^h tacitjy It. for al] ^unts for e claiigh- ^'' other, first clis- have to ''« littJe y a ro- seernin- 3 takiiiir Off face ^e nei- wonis, ^es tlx. t of a 'thin- ed to 'sonj ; i yship I telj f seeu that locket, before. Slio recognizes tho pictures without a clouiit." The next moment he was enquirinir in that careless, half indolent voice of his : "Does your ladyship tlnd any resem- blance between those two first pictures and the parents of the Birdetta of your accjuaintancc, pray?" The next he had just time to catch her ladyship, as she slippe 1 from her seat in a heavy swoon. Ills shout lor assistace brouf^ht forth an excited croup from the drawing room. Lady Birdetta was carried to h'T own apartments, and a physician summoned. The medical srentleman pronounced the lady's sudden Illness to have been brought on by sudden mental excitement, and ad- vised undisturbed quiet for several days to come. «' Keally, how very odd tliat her lady- ship, with all her immovable dignity, should go into such tragics," exclaimed Miss Chessom to her mother that night, •'Why, mamma, Artimese, while assist ing Thompson about preparing that lo- tion which Dr. Donham left for her lady- ship's head, actually heard her muttering all sorts of gibberish about ' darling Ke- ginald,' and calling some one her 'sweet child,' and ' precious little Birdie? Ex- ceedingly odd, isn't it? 1 wonder what in goodness it means. How immensely jentimental and tragical, and hysterical, and everything else silly, people are, to be sure, 1 detest that sort of thing my- self," added the heiiess contemptuously. CHAPTEK XIX. AX IMNVITED CU'KST. Christmas day hf.s dawned, briuhr, with clear golden sunlight. Not rfally a cold day, yet with the fresh, fwhilirat- ing atmosphere keen and bracin',^ At Maplewood all ar^' astir wiili plea .s.'int anticipation. There is to ije min'*- than wont of nnisic and mirth and im r- riinent that night, and the gay dceoi' ,- tions, which wore completed ilie dav !><■- lore, makes iiie great old-fashioned 1;'mi'«<j resemble smne nnignillcenl t.iiiy p;d- iice. Everywhere gracefiil wveatlis of hollv. beautifid iiarlands ami lcstoon> and lio- (inets of bi-iiliani. liir-i;oii'<t' ll)U(i<, tin- air heavy vviiii liejir dfliciuu.^ly tra^iiani odor. A considei'able nund)er of guests ai'e invited; there are to bo prcsi-nt the olli- cers of the — th, two or tnree of whoni are to take part in the theatricals to be played that night. Evening came, and the guests began to assemble in the gaily lighted rooms. " What a splendid place it Is," whis- pered th(! rector's youngest daughter to her e der sister, as sne sat under a gasa- lier, halt bewildered by all the light and m.agnirtcence, " How I envy that arro- gant Miss Chessom, to be sure. As I live, here comes her magnificent brother. I know he is about to ask one of us to dance ;" and the pretty little deraoissUe wa^ all aflutter. (.)!) th" other side of the room Mabel and Waldegrave were conversing toge- ther. " Who is that gentleman yonder?" asked Bertram, iilancing toward a tall, handsome gentleman, evidently about forty years of age, who stood near a door, engaged in conversation with the bank- er. "Oh, a stranger— a Mr. Chesterton." replied Mabel. " He is lately returned from the Colonies, I believe, where he has accnninlatcd a vast fortune. While in London ;; few d.iys a<:o Judge Har- court met with an .accident by the upset- ing of a cab, and tins gentleman rescued him from biinir trampled to death by the hoofs of the horses at the risk of his own life. They struck up a friendship at once, and the Judge broucht him here last night with profuse al)oiogi^,'^. Mr (^hes som has also taken :i ^ireat fancy to lain," addetl she, " and no woiuler, for is he not a ncble lookisiu; uentleman?" ; " II- i>J certainly one of ilie very finest looking men Ih.iveever seeu," answered Walde-iMV(j, ■• IJut do you know why ! 1 was curious to learn wh;) the gentleman lis?" "No; why, pray?" asked Mabel. " Berause he so nincli resembles niv ureat i^ncle. Look at those tin as they ^uind near each o'her — my nnc't; (Mies- j soin, tliis Mr. (Jlie-^ier'.on, and vour bro- i iher. I) ) they nor sutIl'M(!ntiv resemble 1 each other that a s'raniifr miglir, easily K) leluil ' r'nem to l)e grandfather, father aed soi;?"' Mab I looked at tlie three g-ntlemen for a 1 .onient, ;iiid replied : "'111 y eertaiidv, .dl three, very nuich i-;>im;; yie each oilier, liid(.'e<! I ii;ive fre- (('eiiily o')>erved some resemblance be- L.veeii Mr. (.'he.-,som and my brother; but is it not siniiular that our new uuest .-hould look so very n)uch like liitu ?" 46 TUE BANK Kir. < <; I! AX lU'll I LDIIEX. V :»■ 'i '^ " That who sliould so imicli iTscHib'.c \vholl^ pray ?" Mrs. Chcssoin Ii.i'l cnn-jiht, soni.-rniiiii fit Mabel's worils, ;!> siic wiss pr>-inL'. ami paused to iisk llii^ <iiii's!ioii. Mrs ("ln'ssom was .-i vcrv i'lf:.'aii! l(?)k- JDir woman lo-iii^lil . in In r rei;al r>>i>' > ol' lich black vi Ivft, :.u I supt'rtilv (!;!.-1imil:' ( iaraonds. Indeed, .she looked seaie, !y a ,year older than li' r brilliaiil dr.uicliter. It was an apparenlly casiiai qiirst on, carelessly asked ; and yet tiiere wa.-;eauei- jncpiiry beneath thu smiling liyld ia ihe ( yes of the lady. " We were speaking of Mr. Chos.som and Mr. Chesterton," replied Mabel. " Do you not also tJiink there is much likeness between them ?" Mrs. Chessouj glanced towaril Ihe g;'r- tleuien indr.ated, ri'plying: " Why no, 1 do not perceive the least They are very unlike, 1 think. Mr. Ches- terton is much taller, and so very travel- bron/ed. lie is soniewh it (Inc looking; do >"n not linidv so? I'y tlie u;iy Bert;;ir,',"* turning to Widdeiirave. • I lieari <<>< ncoiM iiKi'iirinii' for jou a m >- men' .i'-M). Sonn.tli;n:r in tlie way (■!' n sliglil i:n|iroveincn! in tlu' tixiuij' of n >■ scenciy. 1 lieMeve. jdioiit •.\hich s'.e \vislie- lo consiili, voiir Jud^'inent. M -w will liiid iier ill the eon.-ei\ alury ; " ;;iiii the ladv swept awav. W:il(it'UMave lefu Mab.-1 by th<' sid ■ oT i\Ir. Ki.nmeiton, with some i "liict.iiiee, and went in search ol'liis (•uiisin. Hi; found tlie voting Inly «taiidi:iLC nit- der some great iropii:;:! plant, i'^ broad leaves rustling about her, and one ol its vivid crimson blossoms drooping dov.n ami touching her dark hair. Slie looked I!]), on liis entrance, with that gay, bi ighl bewilderingness in her smile, which al- ways half u;i/.zle(.! and faseiuatod Wahk- grave. " Tm iilad you've come, cousin 15er- tram," said she. "I wautum to come with ine. I have sii:',iiesLed a diUereiii I'.rrangement in liie placing of the gar- lands for the balcony scene in Komeo and Juliet; and I want to considt your taste as to uliclher it will be au iw.prove- ment.'' She swept on, leading tlie way, and chattering gaily, Someiimes, when she suLbljed genlie. gracefid liiLie Mabel with such arrogant rudenuss, (jr, in uuni- berless other ways showed herself heart- less and unfeeling, Waldey;rave cordially disliked her ; but when, as to-night, she was so br'irtit. so piquant, so charming, wlu'ii sl.e smiled upon him more brightly tlian upon others, and listened with such Haltering ii;ii-rtsi »o his words, he felt liewildered. il'.lii'red, enchanted, while iii her ;>!' scii'T. iShe was in the gayest, iiii^ilitf-r vplids to-iduht. and Waklc- griv(! loolu- at her, and half-marvelled at lirr spli-nxiii i)eanty. It was iv) won- der ilnit. now and tlieti, for the moment, with ail li'M' -lowing, sparkling radiance fa>tiniia licvt itching sitcll tiboutluni, he half foriiiit the sweeter, fresher face of Mabel Willougliby. "Fortunate we did not have the statue scene in the ' Winter's Tale,' as was pro- posed by somebody; for, of course, Lady [Virdetta wouhi have been chosen as llermioiie, and tht.'ii lu;r illness would I have made it so awkward. Mamma cu- I deavorcd to persuade her to join us be- low stairs to-night; but she declined, \ plea.ling nervousness, antl the symptoms , of :mi iiiproiciiing headache," continued \:-> Cii. >so:M. ''U Id. isn't it ? What- ev. !■ er ^1,1 i,;,ve so siiaitercd her lady- >;.;;, - in, ves. r.;rh;ips she siw a ghost -■!i:>ie i.> o.,t; liauuls Ma pL' wood, they say; iiui ii,e ^ivants declare that it is I never kiio>vii i.o stray beyond the south Wing. IJo.vi vcii',' added th.; young lady, wiiii a iaui^h, '■.since that part of I the koii.se 1,1s i).-e(i!:ie so damaged by tin* I tire, wlueh o -I ;u-.eil a few weeks ago, Ihv uhost may 'nive t.iken up quarters else- where in the iiuuse, onjcciing, also, no I doubt, toliie noise of the workmen, who 'are engaged in making repairs. IJut 1 ] do believi! everyi)(idy is going mad. j Even niamina was attacked with a sud- 1 den tit of faintness this morning, just as I grandpapa presented Mr. C'hestertou, 1 and became so pale that 1 w.as at tirst in- i cliued to believe tiiat the gentleman was j an old luver;'' and Clencora laughed I again. " IJut here tire the garlands, cousin lierii.in. Do you not think , tliose pretty iiainiiig vines will hang , much more gracefully, and with better I etl'ect hci e than over there in the shadow ? jAnd that love'v wreath yonder should occupy a less cmt of the way place — should it not ?" "By all means; and 1 think that tall plant yonder should be placed a trifle more in the background," said Mr. Waldcgrave. So the rc-arrangenients were made, and Gleucora invented so nitiny other pretexts for keeping her cousin by her w'.l Tiih: JL { XKKirs r; // . i xrx 7/ / /. n u i:.\: 47 aiK '^ cli;)rmir]fr ^'<l ^^•itll such "'<'>*. Iio felt "","'. while ' ' 'le ffnyt'st, ■ W;,Idc- iDiirvclled ■vas W) won- he iiioiiient, ".- '•■KJianco '>utJnni, ho ^I»'-r race oj' 'i the sfatue "s was pru- ) iir.se, Lady chosen as ifss Would ^lamina cu- hmi us be- • <lecliued, ^yiiptoins t-'outiiiued Fi' What- "-'!• Jady- *v H ghost ^■(">'l, they that it is tlie south ' you Jig ^t part of ■<^'l hy the t^'i's else- •ilso, no leii. u'ho • liut i 'if mad. I» '-i sud- ' JU'^t as ■■■^tertou, first in- 'aii was Inughfd u-laiids. t thiuk II hail:,' bettei- ifidow? should )hice— I at tall a trifle i Ml-. made, other 'y her side that there was not a moment hi wliich, wilhonL actual rudeness, he could find iin opportunity of slipping away, un- til \i:. was time to prepare for the drama- tic scenes. JTaliel sat listening absently to Mr. Kiiiimel ton's aurceable conversation, a dull, pained feeling at her heart. " She is so l)eautiful, so r'ch ; and I ^m pool, and uoboily in particular," she jnurmured to herself. " She is sure to win liiin. Perhaps Glencora told the truth, when she taunted me by declarini: that her cousin was merely tlirling with uw for his amusement. No, I will not Ijelieve that; he is too honorable. Hut she is so handsome— such a magnificent woman. In her presence, I believe, he forgets 'my very existence"; and she glanced over to where Glencora sat, smiling up coquettishly Into Walde- grave's handsome face, with its animat- ed, half-ardent expression. CHAPTER XX. The great drawing-room conservatory was all ablaze with light and beamy that Christmas night. Earnest Willoughby led Lady Winni- fred St. Ayvas to a seat in the midst of the fairy-like place. Alas ! for our hero's resolve to conquer his love for Lady St. Ayvas's beautiful daughter. Never had he been so pas- i sionately in love wltii he- as now. With ■ the soft, yet dazzling liitht. the loveli- | iiess, the perfume of myriad sweet fiow- <;rs, and the passionate throbt)ing of the music from the orchestra floating about him, lie AMt like one in an enchanted dream. Only by the sternest efi'orts could he, a« he sat by her side that night, restrain himself from uttering the ar- dent, passioned words of love that sprang to his lips, and chatter, instead, gay, frivolous nothings. He was in the very heart of the enchanted garden, amouii the bloom and bewildering per- fume of the red roses and passion flow- ers. He strove hard to be gay, and suc- ceeded, and talked to her,- in a lively tri- fling sM'ain, about everythinor which hawpeueU to be nothing in particular after all." Supper was announced, and all assem- bled in the great supper room, which was all a sparkle with the radiance of reflected light from the glistening of sil- ver and crystal and gold. When supper was over, and all had re- turned from lh(! supper room to flu; drawing rooms, Mrs. llarcourt sunnr.cni- ed her troupe to prepare for their res- pective parts in the pl;iys to bi; acted ; and, afier something like a halfiiour spent in tlieir dressing-rooms, all were ready, and the a(;fing l)egan. \\'e all know what private theatricals are like; to give a descrii)iion of tliis parlicuiar all'air wonid but tire ^iir read ers. Sutllee it t(j say, therefore, ilitit all l)assed off agreeably, and then came re- hu.'shments, and then music and dancing, and at length the yay party Itrokr ttj). "Take off all tho.se laces and rt()u'ers, and jewels (|iii(:kl.v, Artimi.-^e. I !\ni tired, exhansteil, ialigned, everi'thing, and I'm dying t<j go to sleep." Miss Chessom sank into a eiishioneil rocker, with a drowsy yawn, and 4(>'ti- mise let down and co.iibed out her hair. "And th'! dramatics W(M'e a snecess, were they not, Mademoiselle?— and you were the belle among all the fair demois- elles ; 1 know you're always that." (jlencora smiled arrogantly. " Yes, of course, I am always that. There was an odd little French nolileuiaa — I forget his title, but ho is an old friend of grandpapa's — and he was here to- night, and 1 overheard a remark of his, addressed to Mr. ('liest:erton." "They are beavitifnl— all very beauti- ful—the ladies here," said he; " but Ma- demoiselle ClK'Ssom outshines them all. She is so brilliant, so magnificent, so un- like most women, with that enchanting air of piquancy, and then she is so gay, so vivacious; there are feiv women to compare with Mademoiselle Chessom." Tliere, that is it, word for word.Artimise. I should iH'ver have given the little dried up atom the credit of possessing such very good taste. He looked very like a monkey himself." she adiled, with a laugh. "But the plays -oh, yes, they were very well Even that milk-soppish little Mabel did some belter ,;,,.iil ex- pected. There you can go .. '•, and I shall be fast asleep in a nJuiile," and the girl left the apartment. ^Irs Chessom. after dismissing her sle^ .ily yiwning waiiinii woman, siit dc.vn, with a little wearily-drawn sigh, before her mirror. A little frown contracted the arching brows of the lady, as she rested her white forehead upon her hand, and gazed vaguely and abstractedly at her reflect- tion. Something, evidently, troubled * 48 riiK HA \Kf:irs (;L'.\yi)('iiiLi>in:x. Mrs. Clicssom. Slio sat tlms for some inoinciits, ami tluiii roso up with mkUIcu iiorvoiisiK'ss, aiul paced to miiI fro llu; apartment. "Wlio is he?— this Mr. Chesterton," she murmured. '•<)h: 1 wonhl «ive the world— the wliole worUl to know ! Kven others pexeeivo tlie rtscml)lan(e ; and yet it cannot he he; he is dead— (h-ad lony ago. I am an idiot to worry myself thus unneccessaiily ; l)ut he i.s so liki; him; and, more than onee has lie looked at me so stran;j:ely." She stopped before her mirror a;:ain, ami grazed, with the same al).>;raclion into it. "I am iiervods, worn out with fati<:u(%'' she whispered. " I must sleej) olf this foolHi freak of iniMginaiioii, for .such it is, it must bo." She prepared and drank, a sloepinj,' dnui;L,'ht, and shortly after slept. And while she sleeps with vn,i,Mio, uneasy dreams disturbin;,' her slumbers, tiie dim gray of early dawn brightens into crisp, clear morniuii;; and the suidight has loui,' been slriig^^jiing throui^h the ruby folds of the curtains at, her window ere she awakt.'s. Nearly all have assembled in the breakfast parlour, when Mrs. Ches- som descends thereto. Th'; banker stands near the tire en- gajfeil in conversation with Judye Ilar- court and Mr. Chesterton. .Just as Mrs. Chessom enters the room the latter gen- tleman, in reply to some (juestion of his host's, is saying : " Yes, it is long years since last I saw Ihigland; and certainly," he added, "some remarkable changes have taken place during my al)sence." There was au emphasis upon the last words, but so very slight that only one person in the room, Mrs. Chessom, noted it ;but Bertram Waldegrave perceived anil wondered a httle at the momentary tlush that mounted to his aunt'.s brow, receding the next instant, leaving her i)ale, with a singular light flashing in the strangely burning eyes, which, for a brief moment, were lifted to this Mr. Chesterton's face. The full hazel eyes of that gentleman met the momentary ga/e of the lady with clear steadiness; and Wildegrave laucied that, for a moment, t'le latter ap- peared nervously uneasy, and that he" usual suave smile and dignified complai- sance were regained by an eilbrt ; and he was curious enough to wonder a little Avhat it meant. Lady IJirdetta was now quite recovered, and came down this morning to bri'ak- fast with the family. She was a little paler than usual: but otherwise was quite herself. At the tal)le .Tarvis declared his Inten- tion of returning to Wales. " I have just received a letter from Polsdon, desiring uje to come, and inform- ing me that If I start to morrow he shall be able to njeet me in (/Wmdaron. There are some matters which 1 wish to look after at Cwmdaron ; ami which have already been too long delayed," addeil he, in reply to his mother's protest against his undertaking a second journey into the west at this season of the year, "By tlie way, Jiirv," said Glencora, "Is not that the same town in which you told me our old nurse, Gimpy, as we used to call her, lives?" " Thf^ same," replied . Tarvis; "and I visited her cottage, while there last au- tumn. She sent the whole family an unlimited amount of her very best and humblest respects when I left her house."' Glencora laughed. •' How outrageously we used to {juarrel with her," said she; •' and what uuinber- less bowls of herb teas we demolished; ami then how furious the old creature would become. Do you not remember?" "Distinctly; but in justice to myself," laughed Jarvis, " I must declare that it was yourself chiefly who engaged in the overthrow and demolition of the said bowls of calomel and pennyroyal. My sweet sister always eclipsed me in the way of scratching and biting, as you will doubtless remember," he said laughingly to Waldegrave, wlio sat beside him. " I still bear upon both my arms the marks of those pearly, but nevertheless veno- mous teeth of your.s," added he, with another laugh, and again addressing his sister. Miss Chessom shrugged her shoulders. "My dear brother, you Wcre a deal too stupid' to be actually quarreldome," said she. " Nothing in the days of your early youth, it is true, ever really aroused you to anything like vehement wrath, unless, excepting occasionally, when not allowed too much apple jelly or a surfeit of plum pudding." " Pray cease quarrelling," laughed Mr. Chessom; "and inform me, Jarvis, now you're to get clear of your engagement to go to Eiiversham with Vivian ? ' THE llAXKKirs (!l!AXI>rillLI)i!EX, 4» f-erocovcred, ^' to l)r.'al<- was :i littl(; xo was quite ' liis iiiteu- It'tttT /'roin •'UKliiironn- o^v he shall Oil- There 'i><ii to look 'lic'h have t'll," added 's protest utl journey >f the year. Gleucora, which you Py, as We " and I i last au- raiiiily an best and left her o (juarrel tuumber- iiolished ; creature lember?'' "J.vseir," ihat it t-'d in tlio the said Kul. My 10 in the vou will ighiugly iiu. "I <J marks s veno- 'e, with i«ig his )iilders, leal too ," said 1 r early t-'d you unless, llowed t'pluin 3d Mr. , how unt to I "Oh, we setlK'd all that last ni',dit— the Colonel and I," said Jurvls. " Vivian will make arraniremenVs to delay goiny, until my return." " Whieh will be, how soon ?''' inqtiired Mrs. Chessom. "The lastof January— perhaps earlier," replied her son. Glencora made a irrimace. '"The prospect of a journey to that id little Welsh town; and thf.n a -it of some fifteen miles furtlu-r to that dismally, lonely old estate of Toisdon's — and at tliis season of the year— must 1k' supremely pleasant," said she. " But i'olsdon's place happens to be neitherdismal or lonely, "said Jarv ; '-and \' ~i writes me that he has Invited a half dozen other fellows besides myself— all capital fellows too."' It would be difllcult to say which was, inwardly, tlie must annoyed, Lady St. Ayvas or her hostess, that the latter's son, for the sake of what his mother designated 'one of his numberless whin^.s' had decided to leave Maplewood, and ln-r ladyship's daughter, merelv to visit his ''md Polsdon, in an out of the way place Wales. vain did Mrs. Chessom aft irvvard expostulate with the refractory heir of Maplewood. ''Really, Jarvis," said she, impatiently, " you are as insensible as a stick ; and [ might add, bearishly rude besides." " My dear ntotlier, will you favor me by pointing out the particular ways in which I have exhibited the insensibility, and rudeness to which you allude ':"' asked Jarvis, complacently. Mrs. Chessom shruiiged her shoulders. *' You arc so insensible as to prefer the society of a half dozen 'capital fellows,' as you call them, to that of a very beau- tiful and very charming young lady ; and so rude as to run away whtu the house is full of our guests." Chessom t-miled quaintly. "Insensible! oh, by Jove! but I'm not — not to the loveliness of Lady Winni- fred St. Ayvas, at all events; and 1 sup- pose it was her to whom you have just referred. She is a heap too good and sensible and angelic generally for a rul- tlan like me, though. There's Willough- by now, he's in love with her up to his eyes; and I think they'd suit each other remarkably well." Mrs. Chessom smiled disdainfully. "Ernetit Willoughby is a very worthy young man," said she; " but \\c i.-. a poor clerk also, and sliouKI he he foolish enough \o forgi-t the fact, neither Lady St. .Vyvas or her dau;,'lit('r will be likely to do so. you may be r|iiite assured." " The elderly party won t — it's safe to stake oiK^.s life on tliit. She looks at him rrusliliigly i very time he veniuros a wonl to her danglitef. Pve strong sus- picions," he !i(l(|r(l dryly, " that her la- dyship would pii'fer iniinltely that her dauglilei' sliould unite witii th • banker's grandson and heir instead of his clerk." ".\nd pray \v!iat couid be more natu- ral," Inquired .Mrs. Chessom, ''ihaMthat her ladyship sliould prefer, for lu-r daugh- ter, a really advantageous inatcli to on ' tlecldeoly the opposite of Mial? What s'ensible mother wouhl not ?" " .\ltogctIier very sensible for her la- dyship to manoeuvre so adroitly; and you nake a very zealous coadjutrix, by the way, to lier schemes to inveigle your precious son into an alliance nitli the St. Ayvases. Ili.r I fear tliere will he a fall- ing Ihroiiirh of your pretty little arrange- ment. Fata o'lu/aii , my dear mother. You acj'use me of iiisonsibiliiy to t'lei'alr Winnifred's manifold charms— that Is un- just; I admire her iminensely, but she Is certainly supiemely indifl'erent to mine. I'm convinced she cares more for cousin I'^rnest's little linger ;lian for me ; soul, body and prospective wealth, all put to- gether. Not flattering, but 'sailly terribly true," nevertheless.'" Mrs. Chessom shook her heail with contemptuous Impatience.- " How very absurdly you talk, Jarvis !" said slie. '• Ft is really too ridiculous, simply because Lady Wiunifred treats Willoughby with ordinary politeness to suppose that she returns any al)surd fancy which he may have taken for her. Lady St. Ayvas would be sincerely an- noyed were she to hear you speak thus." " Doubtless," responded Jarvis. "Willoughby is poor; and that is a crime whicli her ladyship woultlu't be la the least likely to forgive. You declare her to be quite inditt'crent to yourself," continued Mrs. Chessom, without appear- ing to notice her son's last remark. " flovv can you expect her to be other- wise when you are so oxtre, so bizarre ? — when you exhibit no more preference for her society than for that of the rec- tor's silly little sixteen year old daughter. Surely you Intend to marry somebody — whv not Lady Wiunifred ?— you wi'l I J n 50 THE BANKERS dRA XDCniLOn EX. M n 'i; novcr fliul a girl more "Douutifiil or accom- plished ; and you might easily wiu her, if you only choose to try. Jarvis yawned. "Very well, mother. I'll tliink about the matter, after my return from Wales; but the lunch beil will ring in less than llftecn minutes; and I am iu too famished a state to think or talk of love or matri- mony at present; besides I've a host of thing's to attend to before leaving Twick- enham." Mrs. Chessom turned away impatiently and presently the bell rang and all assem- bled for luncheon. CIIArTER XXI. About an hour after luncheon Jarvis ascended to the library in search of his grandfather. The banker was not there when his grandson entered. He had gone out with -Judge Ilarcourt and Mr. Chesterton a moment belbre. Lady Bir- detta Rosenthral informed him. She was there looking over a volume of .Vmcrican literature, nnd CMiessom ad- vanced as her ladvship kdd aside her \> <k. '' .My dear lady lUrdetta, are we to bo ^ -sitively deserted— forsaken— abandon- ed?"' cried he gaily. " Must we lose all our friends at. once? Madame ma lUcre is actually despairing. Not only does Judge Ilarcourt, with his merry little wife and fair daughters, togetlier wit'.i the lively demoiseUcs — tlie Misses Ches- ley and Locksley— take their departure on the morrow, but your ladyship also, my mother tells me, intends leaving us sliortly. Things will be desperately slow here at Maplewood house; and I'm not sorry that business will take me away for a month or so. You, I presume, will return to your friends in Morecombe." " No ; I am going to Wales— to the lit- tle town of Cwmdarou. I am going to visit Birdie Wylde, My. Chessoiu." Jarvis pursed up his lips as if to whis- tle. " The Dickens you— I moan 's it possi ble, Lady Birdettn?" Ladv Birdetta smiled a little at the question, aud then gravely replied: " Yes, 1 am nearly couvinced that I kuow sometliiug of the parentage of th'i little waif wnom .you have describeil to me; and I am verv desirou:. ^f ascertain lug if she is really the daughter of Birdie Wylde whom I knew years aud who was as uufortuuatv;, thou the h lu a different way, as her child, providing this Birdie l)e such." Chessom leaned against a marble clio and looked, with a mingling of compas- sion and curiosity, at the lady's face, wit!) its drooping eyelids and sorrowful riioutli. Tlicre was such a deplh of inef- fli)le sadness in the sweet low voice. She was a very beautiful woitian, with wonderful, luminous dark eye.-;. She was attired iu a rich ilres."^ of souie softly flowing material, i!~. lavender color of a beautiful shade. Cliessom looked u.t her. and recollected Birdie Wyide's words, " But the lady was pretty aud dark— that is. dark hair and eyes; aud 1 remember her best iu a dress tl'.at- 1 cau't tell you just what color it was, liut it wasliglit and had a purple tint in it.' Lavender was evidently hf^r ladyship's favorite color, as she so frequently wore dresses of that shade. " Our errands to Wales, then, are much the same, ' said Chessom " My journey is also chiefly to visit little Birdie, who, I have omitted to inform vour ladyship, is a sort of protege of miue. You look surprised, aud no wonder. 1 am not naturally, 1 regret to confess, a philan- thropical individual, and I'm not, as a general tliiug, iu the habit of picking up wandering vagrant.s ; but you see, little Birdie wasn't at all a specimen of the or- dinary tattered menilicity, though she was 1 omvless aud forlorn enough, poor little thing, when I found her first on the dreary road between Nanteroyd and Cwmdar'm." Vud then, at her ladyship's request, Jarvis went on telling her when ' aud where ha had first tnet Binlie— of j the tipsy, boorish peasants who had at- I tempted to molest ner, and of his second \ rencontre with her; of how lie had di- ' reeled her to the cottage of Mrs. Gimp ; aud of lujw he, in accordance with his 1 promise to revisit Cwmdarou and his protege, was now about to do so. I " Of course 't's a hore, aud I was an i idiot to promise; but the little lonely I tiling; seemed so woe-bej^oue at the pre,; ; pect of my dep.irtur . that nothing else which I could say approached cousola- tiou." j " You have been very kind to 'the poor little thing, Mr. CItessom," said her lady- ship. " It was very good of jou to care for the iVieni'les!;, orphan." Chessom looked at her curiously. ''May! eutiuirt, if Birdie— -providing Tllh: BA XK !-:/!• S a HA XDCin L I) HEX. 51 oviding )le Clio ;oiupas- 's face, rrowful of inef- ice. n, with 'llO WJl.S -■ioflly or of a iHected lily was lir and dresi olor it pie tiut much )iirney who, yship, look in not Jiiiian- as a her parents are the persons whom ynii believe them to be— is really au orphan? Are both her parents dead?" Lady Birdetta's voice was low— tremu- lous with stifled emotion. "Not both; I believe her mother is still livinj;." The next moment her laOyship was murmurinj: in the ear of her companion words which caused him to start, and ut- tci" a KUddeu exclamation of astonish ment. Below stairs, in one of the elefjant rooms, with its ccstly furnishinfjs ot rich green satin, \vere assembled Mrs. Ches- som, hec daughter, and anumber of their guests. Presently the banker entered, accom- panied by Judge ilarcourt and Mr. Ches- terton. A little while later the latter gentleman crossed over to where his Iiostess was seated by a chess table, idly toying with the pieces. " Are we to hiivc our L:ime ot '^hess ?" he inquired. " 'J"li<' y- rag people yon- der, at their game ol wiii.st, remind me of it. You see, my dear Mrs. Chessom, 1 sustained sucii heavy and Irequeut los- ses liist niyht, during our contests, that 1 am desirous of I'ctrieviRg myself now, if po^si'ole." Mrs. Chessom express(>d her wiliing- ncss to play; and so they played, chatting jilt'asantly the while. " Check, Mr. Chesterton," said the lady at IcuiTth. '• Checkmate, Mrs. Willouarhby— I beg ]inrdon, Mrs. Chessom," said Mrs. Ches- terton. Mrs. Leigh Chessom, for some reason, glai.'ced up with sudden al)riiptness, into ' the smiling face of her opponent; and 1 something in the steadiness of his polite glance more than ever disconcerted her. She ninnnured somethinij nhoiit. li.iviritr ovei'looked her antagonist's (iiu'cii. >\u\ dence ol" the former's father, and Jarvis Chessom was this morning en mute for Wales. Lady Birdetta Kozenthral, having an engagement with her Londou lawyer, wlio was to visit her in a day or two at Twicivcidiam, was not yet ready to start for W-iies, whither, she informed her hos- tess, she iiad ."ecidec! to go. for the pur- pose of visiting au old friend residing iu Snowdon : and so it was not until a week later that her ladyship also departed. Lady Sc. Ayvas and her daughter re- mained at .Maplewood still, as did Mr. Chesterton also. The banker would not litiiir of the hitter's leaving Twickenham just yet. " It would be quite too bad of the ,)udge to take you to Ljamshirejust now. Tray don't think of leaving us just yet at least. ^' So his host's cordial invitation to re- nsain being politely, .if not pressingly, seconded by his hostess, Mr. Chesterton remained. Altnougii tiiat gentleman had been at Ma[)lewood liouue a few days only, anil was as vet almost a stranger to its in- n^.ates, its owner had already taken an earnest liking, and felt sincere regard and high esteem lor him. 'i'here was an irresislii)le air of geniality about, him. lie was noifle, refined, and possessed high iniellfcuial jiowers. He was a man after l'hiii[) Chessom's heart, and they liad many thoughts and feelings in com- mon. Ufj was a most agre(!able compan- ion for either young or old. (Jlencora declared him a heap too learned; but lOnn'st Wil.onichby and his sister fouad him highly entertaining. He talked politics with the hanker and lis clerk; they ail three played chess and wlust and cribbage together. He related to Mabel stnvies of tlie toilsome ;;i'v('i.t,iiroiis III;: uf th'' rortuoescekftrs swept I he pieces together. In a few mo- ments she pleaded weariness, and arose. Mr. Cliessom took the seat wliieli she had vacated, and the two gentlemen played on together. The next day was the one on which the banker's guests and his departed. Jiidiif! Haroourt ci fainillc left, to re- Miru to their own home in pretty, ([uiet Loamshire. Ida Chesley and her papa's ward, Tris- sic liOcksley were goiughome to the resi- iiitlu.' li'.eai mining di>;i ji'ts, .and iles- erihfd ihrillin;; scenes wliii-h he ha^i wit- nessed in sou'e of ids m;uiy wanderings, for the rich colonist had travelled much, . and iu many lands. j It is about a fortnight after Christmas at til" present time (jf writing, (ilenco- ra threw herself into a rocker thai Si,ood near her dressing, table, exclainuug to Lady Winnetreil, who haJ volunteered to ari'angc the heiress's cuifnre after the fashion '^i her own. [ " I am so charmed with your hair. La- dy Winnifrcd; it is gotten up divinely. I'.-.- ry2 THE nAXKER'S GRAXDCHILDHEX, I shall be infinitely favored if you can only get mine to look like it. Do you know, Artiraese trietl vainly for more than an hour to flx it up just like yours, and failed. How odd that you can ar- range your own hair, without assistance tco, in such a charmingly bewildering fashion. I'm sure i couldn't for any- thing. By the way,' exclaimed Glenco- ra presently, 'didn't grandpapa look fiightfullygrim at the breakfast table?" " I did observe how grave he appear- ed," replied Lady Winncfred. " 1 hope nothing unpleasant has occurred to an- noy your grandpapa." Gleucora laughed scornfully. " Oh ! nothing which one might not have expected," said she. " But poor grandpapa is so— -:o much in his dotage, and has reposed so much confidence in him— vViiloughby, I mean. Why, my dear Lady Winnifrcd, he has actually been detected in a theft -has stolen from itrandpa to the amount of several hun- ilreds! Outrageous, isn't it?" The pearl inlaid hair brush which AVinnefred held iu her hand fell to the fioor. Glencora moved forward slightly, pre- tending to survey her own rcfiection iu the pier-glass, and stole a sly glance at thnt of her ladyship, and thCn hid i\:i dis- agreeable little smile that flashed across her ripe, handsome lips "Of course, those Willoughby's are siy aijci mercenary and generally detesta- ble," went on the young lady, " 1 always knew that; but who would have imagin- ed either of them capable of committing such a contemptible crime— such hideous ingratitude— after all grandpa's goodness —did you ever hear of anything so pre- posterous ?" and Miss Chessom's black eyes flashed sharply into her companion's face. There ivas a cold cliilliness at Lady VVinnifred's heart— ii blinding dizziness swam before her eyes. She looked into the restless black lights that were upon lier so scrutinizingly ; and, aware that Miss Chessom was expecting her to say something, steadied her voice with a heroic efl'ort, and answered with quiet calmness : "I am infinitely astonivshed to Icaru that so great a crime is alleged against Mr, Wilioughby ; and, if there is no mis- take about the affair— if your grandfallier has proof positive of his guilt, I am sor- ry—very sorry for his pure-hearted, sen- sitive little sister. It will be a most cruel blow to her." Glencora laughed a sneering yet polite little laugh. " You are such an ingenuous, unsuspi- cijus ci'eature, my darling Lady Winni- fred, that— iu the language of slang— it is'nt marvellouSjif, once in a while, you're ' caught by chaff.' Of course, that girl is so sly and intriguing,and all that, that one, unless thoroughly acquainted with her, is nearly certain to be deceived by her. Oh ! one has to be extraordinarily sag.a- cious to understand the saintly li* „ hypocrite, with all her smiles and acted sweetness. But believe me, my dear l^ady Wiuuifrad, all your pity will be wasted— quite. The girl is quite as un- principled as her l)rother— indeed, I be- lieve Mabel is the most sly and deceitful of the two." Lady Winnifred's white forehead was stained for a moment with a flush of haughty displeasure. She was growing to cordially dislike this arrogant, heart- less daughter of the Clicssoms— this un- conventional, unladylike, half insolent beauty and heiress; and there was a touch of scorn in her even, lady like tones as she coldly replied : " I regret that our opinions concerning ;your cou.sins— the Willonghbys— does not, indeed, have never coincided, Miss Chessom. In my opinion, it is Mabel who is truly frank uwX ingenuous. I may be very credulous— even foolishly so ; but I cannot esteem her as a creature so very detestable.'' It was Miss Chessom who flushed this time- but she answered caroles.siy, with a shrug and an aUt-nipt to suppress a yawn " Well then, dear, pray don't let us talk of them. What did vou tliink of Dresden's last ball? Thai's absurdly abrupt, Iknow; but I tiiought it tlie very grandest afiair gotten up this seasoh- did not you ?' Winuifred made mechanic replies to the heiress s vapid chin chat, and was glad when she had finisli.-.l the last plait of lier blank hair, and could invent s<jme excuse for slipping away to her room. She was shocked— Ijttwildered— had felt too dazed to make any iiwiniries into the att'air. She only "kihW and n-alized thftt ErucstWilloughby—inunly— noble— hon- orable— as she had all along believed him to be, had been detected iu a theft ! She could not, would not, believe it; thcr I Til /•; 7? . I yk'Eir s a i?a M) ( 7/ / l du ex. h)i firl is i very this with felt the thfit llOD- Ihim IShc ler. e musit have been a nii.stiii<o soinowliere! Slie had wondered a little that uioniiiiji that neither Ernest or his sister iuid ;ip- p?ared at breakfast; and on making in- quiry about the latter, was iuforied by her h;istess that Mabel had corr'plained of foelina ill the nisht before, and haft not yet left her chamber. Poor little May I— was she grlevinj; over tlie dls- {rrace wliieh had fallen upon her hand- some, noble brother, of whom she had hiihorlo been justly proud •*— and Ernest — where was Ernest ? CHAPTER XXII, A srUDKX UIXT.AUATtOX. Tliere came a little tap at the door of Winnifred's sleeping room. She sat up with a sudden start, and brushed back her dishevelled hair as her dignilled mam- ma onteied. " Winnie, darling, you're sure to be late for luncheon; the bell will ring in! less than twenty minutes," said iier lady- 1 ship. Winnifred rose up an I walked over to the pier glass, glancing at her reflection therein. •' You are looking pale, my dear," said her mother. " Z.* will do you good to go out with dear Glennie this alteinoon. She is going to do some shopping in the city, she tells me, and she is so desirous that you sliall accompany her. There are some brocaded velvets at Miiulorn's. and Glennie wishes to consult your taste about which particular pattern she shall purchase." " Our tastes are so very antipodal in all things," replied Winnifred dryly, " that T iliiuk it improbable that they would be likely to concur even in the selection of material for a ball toilette. Besides, my head aches; and I much prefer re- maining at home to driving to the city." " Why, my love, it would do you good, and freshen you up a litile,'* said her Ladyship; but Winnifred shook her head. "Well then, pray make haste: tlie lunch bell rings in jiist eight minutes," said her laayship, consulting her watch. " But"— and Lady St. Ayvas' j( welled hand wis lifted qwK<. tri'gically ■ " have you be( a informed of the shocking crime which vhat person, Mr. Willoughby, has committed ?— have you heard that he has act;ially robbod Mr. Chessom— his benefactor." Winuifrod turned her face away, and her "yes, (ilencora informed me of the affair." was spoken very faintly. " Kealiy," said her huiyship, scornfully, "I dare say the contents ofourjewei case is unsafe. I missed my lieavy emerald bracelet which your dear uncle Lowdcr gave me las year, and have not seen it for several tdays. I trust now, mydiar Wiunii'red, that you will coiu- prdi^iid the wisdom of my lemonstranees against your intimacy with Mabel Wil- loughby. That simple, chattering, little Kosie CislIeniMiu — I (ion't wonder that, she should take the girl up; but you— especially alter having been wari;ed ot her true char.'.cter — 1 really do wonder at you, luy dear."' Lady Wliiiiirreillookeil wonderingly at her mother. '• Has .Malicl done anything ?" she iii- c(uireil. "Do you accuss her of theft also i"' " Aocusc! her of theCi ?— certainly not, my doiV". I lielievu I have said noLliing wii'.cli sounded like an aeeusation of that sort. •' No nuininia; but you mentioned hav- ing lost your emerald l)racelet; and iin- ni'jdiati'ly ;il'!cr spoke so disparagingly of Mai)el thai I inferred " Lady St. .\yvas interrupted with a slioi'f. dry laii^li. "I hive lost the Mrncelet, certainly ; but 1 don't accuse Miss \Villoughl)y of having stolen it; it may possibly turn up again; b'lt, if the brother is a thief why not the sister also ?" Lady WinnilVed turned resolutely. " Maiiuna, 1 don't believe it," said she rlrraly. "Whatever Mr. Willougiiby may have done 1 know not; but it is cruel to suspect Mabel of a mean p.aU.ry r rime, simply because her hrotlier has erred. I beliive poor little May is as good and honorable as any of us." Lady St. Ayvas yawned and shrugired " Tiiere is the lunch oell," said slie; ami they descended togetliur. It was a somewhat silent rejvist despite the ell'orts by tdl present to rcudiu" it agreeably otherwise. Mr. Chessom— usually tlu^ most genial of hosts— was, in spite of himself, grave, ciistrauiiht, almost silent. He was more pained and sorrowful than he could have told, that his clerk— the young man in who.-te honor and integrity he iiad placed ;such full and entire reliance -such impli- cit trust— shouid have proveil himself so utterly uuvvorthy of his confidence. \: li i ', I I • < a* iifi tl 54 77f7^ BAXKJ-JirS OhW XnCUTLDRKX. Could it bo possible ? Sometimes he felt inclined to Ijelievo it all a mistake — to disbelieve bis own senses even ; but then the conviction th:it there was no doubt of his iruilt forced itself upon him: the proofs were so undeniuljle— it was so indisputably evident that none other than Ernest Willou^diby had surrepti- tiously ai)stracled from his— L'.u' banker's - es;critoiro the sum oflOOO; and he had bcllevcil tlrs l)ri.uht, iiandsoine young fel- low to be all tliat was upright ami hon- orable. Certainly it was humiliatin''; to discover that he had !)een duped and de- ceived ;aud the banker was terribly ;v!i,q;ry; still he woald— strange to rec'.>rd— have relinquished Lall his ;;reat !(irtune^:,dadly to have had the youn^' man all he had be- lieved him ro be— lionest, honorable, truthful a id pure hearteil. Ay, even nnicli the :ireater portion of his wealth would he have ^'iveii, ix.t to have had his faith in his clerk's integrity thus ruthles.- ly shattered ; and t hen he was anury with liimself lor his weakness. Had his own jrrand>on, instead of his clerU, committed tlii^; crime ihc banker was forced to acknowledge to himself that lie shoultl have felt Viot one wliit more sorrowful, unuatural ;is it seemet'i, nor so disnppointt'il. He had always been obliued to admit I hat V/idoujiliby possessed— or seemed to possess— many more sterliii;^' qnalilies than Jarvis. with the hitter's Iiiilf dissi- pated, indoK-nr habits- his f.Jiuluess f>).' wine and turf and gamblint:", and his dis- rey;ard for more useful thini;s ; ami yet he was really not, by any m> aus. thu worst sort of felh)W in the world — tliis frivo lous,hcedless JarvC'iiessom; lu was <i;ood tempered, ireiierons, and possessed real talents too, had he chosea lo lot th m see the liiiht ; l)Ut the iKinker si'^lu'd now and then as he thought how ditfi.'rent in char- acter and ilisposition was Leigli's son from Leigh himself. Lady St. Ayvas and (Jlencora Chessom were the oiiiy ones who seemed thorough- ly at eas>:e during luncheon that day. Mrs. Chessom was not (pate herself; indeed the stately lady was slightly un- like ii 'rseirall along of late. 'I'iiere was a certain uneasiness in her manner, not usual with h"r; and more of resllL'ssness than was wont in her dark, briglit eyes. l<ady Winnifred was silent, restless, and glad when tin; meal was cjver. Ber- tram Waldegrave, Mr. Chesterton, and ^Ir. Kimmellton were in Luiulon, whither they had gone a day or two previous, and were not expected to return for sev- eral days, Harvey Fairleigh, having received a summons from his uncle, Lovvder Fair- leigh, had gone to Islington; s.. that La- dy St. Ayvas and her (laughter were the only guests stopping at Maple wood that dry. Mabel was still unabl-j to leave her chamber, Mrs. Chessom said : an.1 Er- nest, where had he goU'!? How Winni- trcd longed to ask the question. The day dragged throui;h wearily enough to Winnifred. She longed to go to Mabel, to sympathise with the poor little or- phan, and— and Winnifrcd's heart gave a sudden throb at the thought — to learn if Mabel i)elieved idm innocent or guilty. Innocent I she would believe liimtiiat; it would l)e but natural that she sliouid do so, Winnifred thought. How could he be guilty? Sue could not — would nit believe it h-u'sclf ; thei'e was some great S.j'iie (j!> ! els(! even .',('d r'le d-'c I ; but not u'c iiiid JDaorable as mistake surely, might have co i Willoughby, -• > i he had been. In a vague ■ of way she waiid -red 'i'.'ulor, au'l met 3.1 ii)el v.'f the hitter's dressing out into the ' near the doi<' room. " Mabel, my dear little friend," "".Vin- nifred exclaiuied, advancing impulsively towHi-d the fragile littl ; figure. .Maliel sprang forward. " Vou don't believe,'' she began, "you do not despise me, Lady WiimifriHl. I might have known you better." "Despise you. May ? Why -hould 1? and who has said so ?" Mabel hesitated. "I— something which Glei;c jra said this morning caused ine to believe thus," said she; "but I might havt knowv. "oet- ter. Glencora is always unkinu ; but it is cruel — so cruel of her to be glad that poor Ernest has been charged with this dreadful, despicable crime, and to taunt rae so insultingly. They— you have bcii told all about it— you know all the af- fair?" .she asked. "I only kp.owthatyour brother has been accused of having taken wrongfully from Mr. Chessom a considerable sum of mo- ney," said Lady Winnifred hurriedly; " that is all I know of the attair."' "And he is innocent — the accu.'iation issounjustl" Miibel broke forth vehe- i THE BAXKEfrS (jnAXDCIIILURKX. ;>.) TVin- isivoly Kl I? is;li<l HIS," |'i)c;r- lit it ItlKlt Ithis |nnt )eu lio- sobs Wianifi'od drow her gently to a wiu- dow seat and knelt besldo her. "My poor darling little May," she said, soothin.'^ly ; *' pray ilo not grieve so. The sum which vour l)rother has be'!n montly, with a storm of tears and stifled \ look in their depths, but never so intense I — so iinpassioneil as now. j He loved her then— this man whom she I had deemed cold and indift'erent to her. : He loved her; and all along she liatl been I angry at herself that, unsonght, she had j learned, in spite of herself, to feel for charged with having taken may not have ' liin> i'i'>i'« than mere friendly regard. been taken by any one. and may yet turn Sometimes, as I have said, she had be- up, or the true culprit, if there be oue, ! held for a brief moment a Hash of that may yet be found, and your tu'other pro- j worshipful light in his eyes— had detected ven innocent, (^lieer up. May, dearest, j a hidden tenderness in ids tone and man- all this darkness will— it nuist — clear i uer; but it was mumeuLary only, aiii.l the away. i love-light vanlshed--was resolutely smo- " He 'V innocent— I know it — I feel it I" j thered, and in its place a half sombre her li'Mi't wliisi)errii pa-.siouately, as she [ shadow would sometimes creep into his inuruHiri'ii sooiliinu' words of hope to the • eyes, and he was cahnly and gravely polite again. J)Ut now his looks were telling her as unmistakably asdal the passioned words which, a few moments later she heard hiin utter, thai he loved her dearly — fragile lii tie gill v, ho>e golden head lay trustingly upon herl)ieast. Mabel looked up wMi sudden gladness. "Then yoa— you do not bedeve him guilty. Lady WinuilVed 'i" she asked eagerly. •• Glencora told mc that you j dearly. believed him dishonorable and a thief. Winnifred flushed with uuligaation. " Miss (Jhessom has no reason to be- lieve that 1 have ever considered your brother, otherwise thau as an honorable gentlen:an,*' she said, "and has, there- tore, not the slightest grounds for an assertion of that kind." There was a footfall on the velvet car- pet, and Ernest Willoughby stood before lie bent toward her so closely that the wavy locks on his temples toiicheel her white forehead. "Then you do not believe ?" he asked again with intensest eagerness. AVinni- fred"s eyes met his clearly, trust fully. " I believe, fully, that you are innocent of all this charged against you," she said. Willoughljy had been striving hard to them — ICrnest, but so pale and worn and, retain control otiiimsi It'; but unw a some weary that, in appe;irance, he was ten j thing— a great impulse, stronger thau years older thau when Winiufred had last • himself, came to him and was fasf, dash- seeu him. j ing aside the calm restraint which, in his A little exclamation, half of pity-half i Pi"''''-^'. l»^' '"^^l placed on hunself. The clear ofastonishmentrosetoLa.ly Winnifred-slL-adeuce of her voice floated Hl^e sweet lips. She rose up, looking clearlv, search- i l^^v "^'J^'C in his ears; and forgettm- all. uigly face. He l)righ into the young man's handsome was innocent: Something hi the , clear eyes told her this— assured her m.ore fully than could all other evi- dence in the world liavi; assured licr to the contrary. With a sudtlen impulsive- ness she extended her haiul toward him. He caught it eagerly lu both his own. Mabel slipped softly away ; but in the absorption of the moment neither noticed when she went. " You do not believe it then ?" were Willoughby's first words, spoken in low, glad tones. Lady Winnifred lo(<ked up suddenly into his eyes, so lull of passionate eager- ness, of burning fervor. More than once stronger i save his great love ol her, he caught her I 111 a passionate emorace. I " I love you, love you, love you !"' were ! his vehement words, involuntarily utler- j etl. " I meant never to have told you I this— to have hiilden my hopeless love I always,"' he went on hurrietlly; "but that whicii impels me to speak — to tell you that I love you madly — is "than my very self.'' There was a soft rustle of silken robes, a slight cough, and Winnifred raised her crimson cheek from Willoughby's shoul- der, and gazed, half aghast, at the horri- fied face of her mother, who stood, lioth hands uplifted, and with an expression upon her face that was a mingling of ter- ribly shocked dignity, contempt of the most withering sort, and concentrated before had she beheld soinetliing of tiiat rage o6 rUE BAXKEIVS G UAXnCIHLDR ES . ; 'U m ' i ■1' ivoally I" wiis all licr ladyship at first managc'il to gasp. Biit her vocal powers did not for long desert her; and then her iiKlignation Ibnnd vont in words, calmly, cuttingly, conteniptutusly spoken. No ver for oncj did her well-lired tunes lose a pa t'cle ol" tlieir lady-like, uurnftied silkiHfss. '* If you're innocent of this crinn' — this — theft, as you claim, would you, were you possessed of one atom of truly rc- llned fiicliiig, distress her lady.-hip by professing an afl'eetiou fnrher which, lo speak ever so mildly, is insanost folly ? You! a begga>ly clerk I accused as you are, too, of a most despicable crime— the disgraceful stain of that crime clinging to your name I Would yon, I say, had you one spark of geiUJeniaidy honor, ad- dress her ladyship in such terms, under the existing circumstances, even Though she iVv-re insane enough to listen to you — even though you loved her as madly as you profess ?' ai.d Lady St. Ayvas' haughty lips curled scornfully. Ernest and Winnifred were standing apart now ; the former's fact; haughty and flushed wilh the anger to which Lady St. Ayvan' arrogant words had stung him ; th^ latter pale, silent, srirrowful. Iler ladyship turned to her motionless daughter next, and haughtily c'.esired her to seek her own apartments, thus waiv- ing the hot re^)ly to her contemptuous speecii which was trembling on Willough- by's lips. Winnifred lifted thjse wonderful eyes of hers to his face, an ineffable sweetness in their sorrowful depths. Willoughby sprang toward her involuntarily. "My love, my darling!" he nuirraured eagerly. You Avill— von do love nie, do you not ? With that assurance I can endure all things else." Lady St. Ayvas grew white beneath her rouge with scornful anger; she spoke almost lierr:ely now. " Winnifred, are you mad ? Go at once to your room." Never before, in her nineteen years of life, luul Lady Winnifred defied her dig nifled mamma. Lady St. Ayvas had no t'louglit of such a thing as detiance on hvi' always dutiful daughter's part now. "Go," and her ladyship waved her jewelled hant; peremptorily in the direc- tion of Winuifred's chamber. Willoughby was standing close beside the latter now, his eyes full of passion- ate pleading bent upon her. She was hesi- tating. Would she go away — leave him thus—without one word of farewell? He vvatcheil her s veet face eagerly. Lady St. .Ayvas did so, curiously, angri- ly. The eyes of the mother and dangliter for a brief moment met. Something in the hitter's steady glance startled her la- dyship, and the seorniul words upon her lips remained unspoken. She stared, angry and aghast, ;it I.er—for the first time— refractory daughter. ' Winnifred v\as stamliug now before Willoughby, and placiiig both her bauds ! trustingly in his, I " (iood by(\ Mr. Willoughby," she said, I iu sweet, low tones. " I do love you , truly. Good bye ; and may (Jod bless jou, and prove you innocent to all others ' as I !)elieve you to be." i Her stately ladyship could only gasp I hysterically. I VVillougiiljy's heart bouuded with an exquisite thrill of happiness. She loved him— she had just said so— this lieauti- ] ful, peerless Lady AA^innifred. ile was ' parting with her — he luinht never see her I again; but she loved him— she trusted ; hiu); he could bear ail other tilings with that precious knowledge, lie pressed j the slender little hands to his lips. ! "Good bye, my life— my sweet dar- ling,' he nuirmured. " With that assur- \ ance 1 can never be very unhappy, what- ever else comes to me." I He pressed his lips to her white fore- head lor a moment, and then was gone. j Lady St. Ayvas saidv down upon a seat in the great shadowy corridor and wrig- gled in violent hysterics. Her daughter bent over her, but was fiercely waved off. " Leave me ! Send Gretchen to nio ; and then go at once to your own cham- ber, you mad girl!" exclaimed her lady- ship in a subdued shrick ; and Winuifreil dutifully obeyed. Gretchen canie and assisted her lady- ship to her chamber, which she did not, again leave until late the ensuing day. CHAPTKK XXII I. Ernest Willoughby went in search of his sister after having left the long corri- dor, and the scene which we have above described. She was in the conservatory below, he was informed by a servant: and thither he went and found her. There was earnest inquiry in her love- ly purple-bine eyes as her brotiier bent down, kissing her lips. " She loves me, jMay, dearest,'' he sa:d, THE BANKFAV^ GRAXDCHILDREX. 57 ;asp fovo- licsaid, his voice half tremulous witli jjladuess: "she loves and irusls me, despite them, all. She is au angel, lil^e you, little sis- ' ter." ! Mabel looked at him with a teiitlcr, | liaifglad, half sorrowful little smilo. llei was pale aud worn still ; but what a world ' of dreary wrctchediit'ss had goni; oul oC: his eyes; what an (uirnest, eager, hope | ful light had come, instead, into their I clear hazel depths. I " And yon have come to say ::()od l)ye, } ilarling?" she said, with an ell'jrt to keep j back a sob. I " Yes, love, good bye, and Iieaveu i)luss i you, my precious little si.-ster,' replied j Willoughby, clasping the fragile little tl- gure to his heari. } " Yon will go where?" asked May. j A shadow passed across her oroilRT's | face. '* Almost anywhere, s(j long as I Ii-ave England," he said. '■ 1 read this nioiii- iug that a sailing vessel, the Victor, leaves Liverpool on tlieGth of next mouth for Montreal. I think I shall take a \yA>- sage in her. I am sure to bo mori; eon- tented anywhere away Irom heie; and I know I shall like Canada. ' "Canada!" repeated Mabel. "Oh, ErutSt, 1 do not believe 1 shall ever sue you again. I do not believe yen will ever come back to dear old Kuglandl' Willoughby looked down at her with sorrowful tenderness. | "J^o, May, dearest, I shall nevtr re i turn"' he said, with something that was i like a sob in his voice. "Never; even' though this cloud be driven from over my name; but it can never bv(|uite thai ; a shadow will remain always; Uien* will be some who will ri:fu.?e to belli vt' me iuuoceut — Buch persons as J/ady Si. .\y- vas for exaujple— Ijowever conclusive the proof of my innocence may be. But there will be no proof of my innocence; it is folly to hope for even a slight pallia- tion, let alone a total obliteration of ihe miserable stain upon my character." Mabel heaved a sobbing litile sigh. Her heart was aching with sympathetic sorrow for this idolized brother of hers, who stood beside her with such a stern pale lace; with sorrow and anger, and wounded pride and honor battliuj; at his heart, only the faintest throb of a pitiful hope— the half mournful, half glad thrill of that which was a miugling[of passioD- ate, hopeless lore and something mat was akin to happiness— something that told bim that that lore, however hope- less, was returnej— serving to lessen the darkness of the shadow which had fallen so suddenly ujjon his life with all its yonthfid, hopeful ardency— its bright, noble aspirations and anticipations. '• But I shall go to Canada, and scttlf d(Mvii in some business there," he wont u I, Irving to speak hopefully: "antl then von .sIimH come to me, and if you like it — ij'you can give up old friends and asso- cia'ions, you will remain witii me always, and make Itritrlitiiess for my dull life. Mabel leaned liur gnklen head upon his breast. " 1 can ijo anywhere wiili you, dear Kiuest,"' she said. '• Iiidetd 1 .shall be glad to leave here. The Did a-isoeiatioiis eai) nevi r, lieiieet'irt*i. In- anythinii but painful to m : ami I .>lia!l rt';iri-t partiii;;- v> i 111 very iV'w of our frieiiiis. 1 idmo.-t liatt; tlu-m," she add.'d !;irterly. " 'Jhey are all so cruel — ,-.(> citi'. 1 to believe yois guilty. a-< if you coiilil be rliat!" Willougiiby cl:i>ped her closely iu hit aiin-i. It was a Mirrowful parting, and Mabel wept long and biiteily after he had gone — y;one out into the world to battle alone; and then what woidd it h?. intheenil? Xu br'ght i:oa! for his am- bition to look up to; notliing at last but a l)lighte(l name and a saildened life. '• Uh, it is cruel, very, very cruel," she murmured. "Sogot.d, so noble. Poor Krnest." Ernest Willougld)y went forth from the home ot the Ches.sonis, receiving a fare he no Well from only two of iis inmates; did not fveu see tliu !)anker — had thonijht that by him he was watched as- he drove away from ilie great house — avi'ay IVom Maplewood roi\;;-t'r. Soiueiiovv I Ins depariu!-e brought back to ilie memory of the master of Maple- wood that other baiiLshinent, when Leigh, his only son, had also gone forever, with a bitter cur^e hurled after hira. He had been so dear to him — this bright young fellow — so dear to him ; more so, he felt at this moment, when Ernest was going for good, than ever his own grandson had been. He watched him, as he drove down the leafless aveuue, and something within him urged him to -innocent or guilty — recall him; but what if, after all, his clerk should repel him? The pride of the banker could never endure this. No, he would uot be so weak, he told himself. Was he, he wondered angrily, In his dotage? '4 58 THE JiAXKJ'J/rS GRAXnCHILDRUX, CIIAPTKIl XXIV '1 i Harvey Kiiirlfigli, haviiiir executi-d a store <ir so of his wliiinsioil uiiclf Jj()\vdc'i"':i coiniiiiK.sioiis with a (lc';irc'c' of patiouci! tiiat was praisoworlhy. ielt l-t linjrtoii and '•etunied to Twu^kenham the day ensuiiii: Hriiost Wiiioiigliby's (lc'i)ar- turc from thi'iici-. Lady \ViiinitV(,Mi, sitting l)y iIh- ".vimlo'v in licr drc'ssinii; room, which ovc.'riootwrd the great leatkvss avenue, drew a ri!i( ved lonj; lireatli as -she saw her merry cousin alliiht from ti cab that was driven np. and stopped for a moment before the door of Maplewood liouse. Siie was i>iad to see brusque Harvey batkajiain; his j^ay conversation would be enlivening; and the hours tiiat hunu so hf iivily upon her hands would be rtu- dered less intolerably dismal by his re- turn. Not that there was tin.' smallest Ire k of L'ay society at and around Maph- v,:od. The great drawing rooms were rearly always in receipt of ;:ay guests; always callers and ufcern"on visitors, and pleasant throngs in the evenings; and yet tlicy had all suddenly grown lire- soiiie, even irksome, to Winnifred. It was all so hollow ami heartless and friv- olous ; and she was so tired of it all — so thoroughly weary. She had absented herself from a gay skating party that day, pleading a head- ache as au excuse. She wanted to be free from envious belles, aud the gallant attentions of dashing milUaires, and fash- ionable, frivolous chit-chat for at least a little season. Afler the merry party had gone, and she had bathed her mammas temples with ecut ill' coluyne, and administered to that fretful lady a sootliing restorative when she showed symptoms of incipient hysterics, she found au opportunity ol slipping away to her own apartme'nts, being informed, with a reproachful sigh, by her ladyship tliat slie was no longer required to remain, and that she would try to obtain a little sleep. She sat down and looked out vaguely, listlessly, from between the velvet cur- tains at her window. It was a relief to be alone— to be free to lay aside, for a brief interval even, the mask of light- hearted gaiety which, only when unseen by others, she was obliged to wear. "Poor little May," she murmured drearily; " she is less miserabiC than I; she may grieve for him, but I— oh, it is so cruel— I must be outwardly gay and canless, for what the world will say."' She leaned her head wearily against iMt! IVaine. and wondered sorrowfully, vaguely, if (he great shadowy clOvid that enveloped the prf sent would clear a.vay ever, or if its dreariness and darkness would always follow her, dimming all the briLihtiu.'ss of the futwre. Harvey Fairleigh ascended the bro;\d main stairctsse a few moments after bis entrance of i\Ia|)lewo(»d liouse, and, meet- ing his cousin UMnnifrcd in the corridor, eml)raced her, exclaiming: •' Back, you see, cousin Winnifre('., safely in the tlesh, and vvithout having had my precicnis head bitten otf by our ' i)oor dear uncle;' but he was in no need of a temper when I arrived, that Idid not get there earlier."' " I suppose uncle Lowder is as well as usual?" inquired Winnilred. "(Ml, (luite," responded Fairleigh; "anil I w:is compelled to execute some- thing less than Hfty fussy, bothering com- missions, while there, to which he con- descended to entrust ine. I must needs go a horrid journey of more than a hun- dred miles on soin'^ tedious business, when a k;tter or telegram would have managed the att'air quite as saiisfactorily as iny own person ; and, on my way back, became dripping and drenched in a b'. ast- , ly rain-storm, receiving from my beloved relative, on presenting myself before him with some mild complaint of my water- soaked condition, the comforting assu- rance that I need apprehend no serious danger from the hovrible chills, whi h were the consequence of my wetting, as those born to be hanged seldom came to their end in any other fashion— ugh! 1 haven't got clear of those creepy chills yet." he added with a shrug. Then he rattled gaily on : " liut what in the name of all wonder- ful things," he inquired presently, " has happened down yonder? Mr. Chessoin has grown thinner than the average cu- rate during my absence, and though he endeavored to do the cordially hospitable on inj return just now, there is a sort of moroseuess and reserve about him which certainly didn't characterize hlra previous to my departure from Twickenham. And it seems to me," he added, ''that our hostess, also, is not exactly her former self. There seems to be a sort of ner- vousness in her manner which isn't at all in accordance with her accustomed dlg- nitied complaisance. Why, she actualiy ! started so visibly, on meeting me a mo- THE HA XKKirS (;UA Mx'll I Lhl! KS. .V.> londer- " has lessom e cu- jh he Ipltable Isort of I which tevious In. And )at our [former )f ner- I't at all led dlR- iictualiy a mo- incul t\;?o, UitiL an obscrwr iniuht. liavi! coucliKli'il tliiit I was a ;^riiii oincial, just ollcriiifi hci' a pair of manackis with tlie stern words, ' Madam, joii arci my pris- oner I' instead of merely presentin<f, witli one of my finest bows, n\y small mid aris- tocralieally vvliito hand,"eontinued Faii- leigli, contemplating for a moment one ol his not very fair and souiewliat chuljhv little lists. Winnifred had not time to reply ere Mabel Willouj^hby and he r friend, liosie CustlenuUn, crossed the corridor; and Fairleigli came forward to jireet them, his heart set all a flutter by the pressure of liosie's dimpled little iiand, and the briylitness of her eyes. Kind-hearted little liosie had persuad- , ed her friend to iX,o witli lier over to tlie ' Oaks,' the residence of the former's fa- ther, wliich was only a little distance from Maple wood. \ " It will do you good, May, dear," Ho- sie had said coaxinjilv. " And we shall , l)e quite alone. I have given the ser- - vants sweeping orders to admit no soul to my presence during the remainder of the day, and the evening. I-^ven aunt j Howard and cousin Ilonoraare to he ex- 1 eluded for to-day. Come, child, it will brighten you up ; my charming society j always dispels the ' blues ;' it's sure to j enliven you Come along;" and Mabel, i bestowing a grateful little embrace upon her friend, prej arecJ to go with her to \ the ' Oaks.' "1 am carrying May off* witli me," lio- sie exclaimed gaily. " I am dying to liave her over at the house, and papa is dying to hear her play all those lovely ballads, which she does so sweetly. My performance of them is execrable. Papa declares he Cdn never distinguish the dif- ference between my execution of Von Webber's last and Flying Galop; and cannot tell if I am playing ' If you could come back to me, Douglass,' or 'Johnny Sands ;' but Mabel does them all so di- vinely," she added. They chatted for a few moments lon- ger, and then merry liosie tucked Mabel under her arm and tripped away. " How pale and thin Miss Willoughby looks," remarked Harvey, as the two young ladles disappeared. " Has she been ill during my absence?" he inquired. " Yes, so III as to be unable to leave her chamber for several days," said Winnifred. "Too bad, poor little thing," com- mented Fairk'igli; "how mournful t!io>e sweet, piirplf-liiiH' eyes of lier's looked, to l)e sure. I'.y the way," he addetl, "where is I'.rni'sl? — in London I sup- pose; ilo you know if he returns to- night?" A Hush came into Winnifred's fair I'aco. Her cousin was ignorant of the painful affair which had transpired during his absence from Maplewood. He and \\"\\- longhby had long hccn the firmest friends ; Would he trust tlie latter now, f)r'Jo;n in his denunciation ? Lady Winnifred spoke hesitatingly : "Mr. Willoughby lias left Twieken- liam, and will not return," she said. Fairleigh pursijd up his lips, " Left Twiekiaiham, and will mjt re- turn?" he repeated slowly, and staring interrogatively at Lady Winnifred; then an idea struck him, and he jumped to a conclusion. " That is one way of ac- knowledging tliat yon have jilt,e(l liim, I suppose," lie said grimly. " Uy .love.' Winnifred, what heartless frauds women are; but 1 believed tliat you were an ex- ception to the general rule." Lady Winnil^red looked into her cous- in's suddenly clouded face, at a loss, for a moment, to (|Uite understand his mean- ing; then, comprelieHding that he was mistaken, she sliook her head half im- patiently, saying: " I'ray do not rusli so rashly at, a con- clusion, Harvey; I have not jilted Mr. Willoughby, as you say, but scjinething has liappened." She went on tlien, tellin'^ him all slie had learned about the very unpleasant afl'air. " But he is innocent— I ara sure lie is that, slie concluded eagerly. " Why, of course he's innocent," Ijroke in Harvey. " Such a line noble fellow as Willoughby's been, ever since the first hour I knew liirn. There isn't a more liouorable fellow, nor a manlier one in the country. It's a confounded shame !' he went on savagely; "and I'll let Mr. Chessom know what I think of llie whole miserable transaction, host or no host." Fairleigii was in a towering passion ; scarcely the evidence of his own eyes could have induced him to believe his friend guilty of any dishonorable deed ; and he was furious that this cliarge was prefeiTcd against him. And yet he was forced to own that, however innocent Ernest might be, appearances were cer- tainly strongly against him. Only the banker and his clerk po.ssessed tlie pe- i ()0 THE HANKEirs (jnANDCHII.DliUX. i Fi- h culiariy wrought koys wliicli llttcd the lock of the oscriloiro, from which the inissiiiir £(!()0 had Ixon ahstnictoil. Then foro the said «.S(:rit()ii'e could not have i)een opened by any one else than Earnest, save the bunker liiinself,aud the six handled pounds were certainly gone. Smaller sums had more than once before been found unaccountably missing; and, the very day succeeding the one on which the last sum had been taken, it was as- certained that Ernest had invested, in a certain speculation, to the amount of X500, for the possession of which ho could not satisfactorily account. It was undeniable that the circumstantial evi- dence was very conclusive. "But 1 don't believe asingle word of it," Harvey stoutly declared. "There's a mistake somewhere -somebody else took the missing amount, or maybe the banker's a somuami>ulist or something of that sort; anyhow, I'd wager my life that Willoughby has not done this thing." AViunifrcd caught at the sugestion of somnabulism offered by Harvey. She had heard of such things as people becom- ing victimized by the prauks of a sleep walker; who knew that this case might not 1)e one of that son .'—and perhaps, after all, the mystery would be eventu- ally cleared up. CHAPTEli XXV. Harvey went to his aunt. Lady St. Ayvas, after having parted with Lady Winnifred in the corridor. Her ladyship,withthe assistance of her maid, had dressed, and would appear at dinner, which was to be announced in half an hour. She greeted her nephew languidly, in- quired solicitously after the health of the crusty brother, whom she always desig- nated " poor, dear Lewder," and was ex- ceedingly aunoyod, when Fairleigh in- formed her that in something less than an hour he should start/ lor Camberwell. " 1 have a friend, a young artist, re- siding there," he explained, " and I shall probably remain with him most of the time until the termination of your visit here at Maplewood ; then, I shall be in readiness to accompany you and my cou- siu back to Fairleigh house." " But why this unreasonable haste, Harvey ?" her ladyship fretfully inquired ; •• you can remain until after dinner, at least. It is positively impolite to rush off so abruptly, without any good rea- son." "Hang politeness," growled Harvey. Lady St. Ayvas's brows lifted umazed- " littally, Harvey, what would our host thiuk of your bearishness, I wonder ?" she remarked, with dignity. " Hang our host," grimly responded Fairleigh; " but good-bye. Aunt Muriel. I roust make my adieux to the rest, and bo off." Her ladyship shrugged her shoulders. " What a veritable bear you are, Har- vey ; your brusqueuess always sends ner- vous shivers through one," said she Harvey replied only by a quaint grim- ace, and ran down stairs. He met Mr. (^hessom in the hall, and announced his intended sudden departure. "But you will not leave us until after dinner, my dear Fairleigh?" urged Mr. Chessom. "The bell will ring iu fifteen minutes; pray i-emain for the present." "Thanks, but I must deny myself the pleasure," was Harvey's curt reply. Fifteen minutes," he added: "I shall barely have time to make my adieux to Mrs. riiessom." " But we shall see you frequeutlj'— you will come often to Maplewood while Lady St. Ayvas remains with us, at least?" inquired the banker. Fairleigh shook his head. "I think it is doubtful if I find time to return until my aunt wishes to depart," said he; "indeed," he added, "I may possibly u'^* return at all. My cousin informs me that my friend AVMlloughby purposes sailing, fifteen days from to-day for Canada; and, providing I v-an obtain the consent of the pater, I thiuk I shall accompany him. I shall enjoy it im- mensely, and return in soraethiug less than a year; and I can persuade father to come for my aunt and cousin, whsn they are ready to leave Twickenham.' Mr. Chessom bowed gravely, and seemed about to speak; but Mrs. Ches- som just then appeared, and Fairleigh turned to bid lier good-bye. She was politely regretful that he must leave so suddenly ; Harvey shook hands with host and hostess— very frigidly with the form- er—and departed. A week slipped by. Glencora sat iii her dressing-room, yawning over the latest novel, while her maid arranged her hair. Thank heaven !" exclaimed the heiress, at length, tossing aside her book, " the men have returned. I want to be charm- ing tonight." Then she laughed. "Dear THE HAS K Kirs Gil A MX'III LlHlllX. (A It iiT the [her ^ess, the Jirni- pear me, I cnii imagine Mr. Chesterton's look of consternation on hearlny of this iitfiiir about Willoughby, I believe he's in love witii Mabel," she added, "and she, the sly, mercenary creature, eucourajn's him, though he's old enougli to be he. I'lither, in case Mr. Waldegrave fails to proposu-. What very diverse tastes men possess. There is liimnielton would like to fall in love with the little iJiot, it only he could afford to wed ioi love Instead of money, while my cousin Waldegrave — why, I be- lieve, he actually detests her." Glencora was fully aware tl.it such was uot, by any means, the case; but she said so, spitefully, because she was desirous that It shoulil be so, and was determined to make it so, if it were wiihin her power. •' Glencora, my dear, the bell has rung, are you ready ?" [t was Mrs. Chessom who thus ad- dressed her daughter, opening, as she s()oke, the door of the hitter's dressing room. "Quite ready;" and the heiress tloated from the apartment, raagniflceutin a rich myrtle-green dinner toilette. "Goodness I mamma, how unearthly you are looking. Has anything dreadful happened? You are pale, and your l«ands shake as If thev were smitten with pal- sy," exclaimed Glencora. a. surge of color came Into Mrs. Cues- som's face, which had certamly been un- usually pale a moment before. She spoke as if annoyed by her daughter's observa- tion. " How very absurd, Glencora. I am not aware of any unusual occurrence. 1 have a slight headache, which accounts for the palor which you terra unearthly ; but pray let us make haste," and mother and daughter descended together. There was no paleness in the cheek of the hostess as she entered the dining room, but a close obser\er might have detected a hiddeu but fev^erish restless- ness in her manner. Bert-'ara Walde- grave observed it, and wondered; Mr. Chesterton observed it, but if he won- dered, he did not appear to do so. After dinner the ladies adjourned to the cosy blue drawing-room, while the gen- tlemen lingered In the dining-room over their wine, conversing upon the topics of the day. Miss Chessom threw herself indolently into the soft recess of a blue velvet divan, and glanced superciliously at Mabel, who had takeh an opposite seat. Certain it was, that Mabel hud occii|)ied too large a share of the attention of the gentlemen, who had that day retiiiiied, not to have iiiciirred tiu^jeilous contempt of the ) Highly heiress. Slie WHS s igacious enough to s«'(! how jealously \Valdi;gravo and Uinniiel- ton regarded each otlier; and how, ever and anon, the eyes of tat;!! would wander toward Maijcl's pale pure face— ilid not fail to perceive iiow fre(|uenland earnest were Mr. Chesterton's toward her, also; and wondered scornfully if it were possi- ble that this splendid, middle-aged Adonis was becoming likewise infatuated by the orphan's "milk-sop prettiness" as she termed it. She leaned liaek now, among the saphirinc-hucd cusldons, with a politely insulting liltlc langii, e.vclaiming, in tones sligiitly lowereil, yet sudieiently audible to reach distinctly the ears of Lady St, Ayvas and her daughter, who sat near : " Upon my word, Mabel, the lirainatic- ally doleful expression of countenance which you assume of late is wonderful — you do it to a surprising degree of ex- cellence ; and really, you attracted quite as much of the attention of the gentle- men to-day as even yoa could possibly desire. Mr. Chesterton regarded you quite wistfully," she added, sarcastically smiling. Then her black eyes flashed insolently at Mabel, and she went on with mock sincerity : " By the way, Mabel," her words were a trifle lower spoken this time, " I per- ceive that Mr. Chesterton Is actually be- coming devoted to you of late. Now there is a charming opening for you— you are ambitious, and Chesterton's rich, if somewhat gray ; and you are very well suited for each other— both stupid, that is, intensely intellectual, which is all the same. Better avail yourself of the oi)por- tunlty than lose all in waiting for a great- er priz.e — like my cousin, for instance. Believe me, girls in your position— utdess a deal more charming and beautiful than you are— rarely secure all the cardinal virtues- youth, oeauty and wealth, to- gether. Like Mr. Kimmelloii, for ex- ample, who possesses a fair share of the two former desirable qualities,, but very little of the latter. Heigh-ho! what a I)ity now. that he cannot afford to marry for love Instead of riches. His solicitous glances toward your puling face, as well those of Mr. Chesterton, were observed by all, I am sure. 1 could see how vastly amused cousin Bertram was; lie hjijuired »'r_' 77//; y;.i.vA7;yi".s' (jUAsnciiiLnnHX. » :^ llic cause of yonr woc-bocoiK; appear- ance, iisking il'yDii \vm\ \u en ill recently. Of course I was obll,:,'('(l to explain tlie reason of your attVcin;; sndi traj?lc airs, ami inrorrnliim of your l)rother'.s ilisrcpn- lable conduct; and he \v;i.s really astound- ed to learuof sucliliypocrisy and base in- jjratitude on his parr." A llrcy flush of wounded pride and anger dyed Mabel's liilhertt) pale face, sulfusiii;.' even Ihm- whiti; throat with its stain. She lookcul up into llie heiress' .scornfully inockiny;eyes, an ani;ry retort on licr lips; and then felt her fortitude desertin:jj iier — dareil not trust her.si-lf to utter the word.s, f()r the sobs which, only with an ettbrt, she could restrain. For- tunately, hovvever, she was spared tlie neeossiiy of replyinji, not only by tlie entrance of the gcntltuncn, who ai>peared at that moment, but also by Lad> Win- iiifrcd, who— appearing not to have heard the insultiu'j; remarks of the liaughty Gleiicoia, of which, however, slie liad not failed toliear t very word -arose, and in spite of Lady St. Ayvas' haughty, dis- l)leased I'rown, approaelieil Mabel, saying pleasantly : " Do you know, dear. I have been en- deavouring most (liUiLiently to do that pretty pattern of lace, whicli you were trying to teach me last evening, :iiid can- not get it just right after all; I fciir I shall need a little more teaching. It is so very pretty,"' she added; " and 1 am desirinis of making a yard or two for the edging of tlie fanchon which I am mak- ing lor niamma. " Laily St. Ayva.sdrew herself up haught- ily, stiying, in tones that were crusldngly dignilled : ''Then, my dear, pray don't trouble Miss Willoughby to instruct yo)i. as 1 adnnre niueii more the kind with which you edged the fatichon which you U)ade liist autumn lor 31rs. Alauslield."' Lady Winnifred sat down by Mabel's side, saying, with an unconscious smile : " Very well, mamma, then I will only make it for myself, as 1 consider it much prettier.' Lady St. Ayvas made no reply, but worked on at the hand-screen she was making. In dignified silence for a few moments, and then turned her atteution to Glencora's trifling chit-chat. ilabel bestowed upon Winnifred a bright, grateful glance, and then bent her still crimson face lower over the delicate conglomeration of frail silken threads, as Mr. VValdgrave made his way to the spot where slie and "Winnlfied were seated. Tli>;ru was more thiui wont of tenderness in his manner toward the former t'j-iiight. >V''as he as cruel as Cilencora depicteil him ';:' Mabel won- dert!d ; and ivas he — ;issured of th it which .she hail so striven to hide — that she couUl not— couid not In)^ love him — was h'j so ungeneious— so nnmaidy, as to trifle with her, merely lor )iis aiimsem>'nt ';:' Surely not, and yet how cDuld she tell ? But we almost all experience some time in our lives what it is to endure " Love's alternate Joy and woe." She was iriad when Glencora invented some pretext lor calling U'aldeitrave fi(jm her, and disapiiointed Mr. Kimmelton, who had been casting frowning glances at the former, and, on seeiiig him depart from her side, was about to politely dis- engage himself from Mrs. Chessom, with whom he was conversing, a' I cross over to where she v/as just now seated alone, by rising and complaining of the warmth of tlie room, and withdrawing. She went into the conservatory which adjoined tln^ purple drawing-room, and sat down bv a great rustling cactus. Uuconsci(ni-ly she broke off one of its thick, cool, leaves, and pressed it to her l)uriiiug cliei'ks. Then with a great flood of tears, that would no longer l)e n-nres- seil, slie slijiped from her seat to tUe floor, and buried her face in her hands ; and thus Mr. Waldegravc found her. CHAPTLU XX VL My love is so true that f ciin noitlicr hiile it whure it is, iior.-iliow it whore it iji not. — /)ri/(l':i. " My poor little girl — my precious lit- tle Mabel; I knew J was sure to find you here." It was Mr. WaUlegrave who spoke thus, lifting as he did so the slight, droopirg tlgure from its at)ai\doned posi- tion to the flower embowered seat. "My stat'dy cousin has been insulting j yon again ; / guessed as much from b<>M ' your faces when I entered the drawl j ro )m a few minutes ago. It is me cruel, everything that is unwomanly ;i uulady-like: and Mabel, darling'' — lii> voice was lower now, and iutensely earn- est — " 1 have come to plead for the right, hencefortl), to shield you from all her a! rogance and insults. 1 love you little Mabel, dearly. Will you marry me ?— be my own darling little vvife ?" Mal)el raised her bine eyes, in incredu- lous astonishment, to the handsome, eager face bending so close to her own. So sutlden I Was she dreaming? Did Tin: HAXKin,".- (.!:.\ v /> r// //./»/;/•;. v iVi luUiiiL' Uvi |in< |iy ■•■ ■'—his eunv 1 right, lU her little ?— 1)C ;redu- Bsomc. (>%VI1. he r,U!mi i( ? Scarcely cmM slw h'lvo I '• Voii iini'^t not Imvc iiir, .Mr. U'alde- imairiiHil Mr. W'.iiilc^r.iv" -'•iii, imim. i ^iTav.' -. I can y/.iv/- Ik- your wit'.'.'' passionc'l. !is si!..' liad liltlicrio hi-Ucxci •• lin; why V— yoii will tell iiie why, liiiu to I) •—adilrc'SHiii^' even lii'Wiiili'i'in^' I Mildl ? It i.s nm tlial yoii do iK.t love Uhiu'ora in this pa'^.sioiiaKlv l.)Vfr-likr i im-- \oii will not say tin'," llcrtrurii fasjiioii. with (yi's .so I'ldl of i>ri:u, d.'cp. I a^kt-d t;a«orly. I'orvcinl. diivotloii. "V«)ii— you coiiiiot mean it, Wald - jjrfivo,' sill) faltcn.-d in d hiIjL and oc, ;i. iloiMnoii.. 'riicrc was a .shadow of pain in iIh^ fair yoiinir lace; and tlic low tones were rcn- d(!r(!il steady by an cH'ort ; hut tlicy were steady when she answered, lookin;; np lie « aiiylit liPi- tiLth'tiy in his arms, ie)i- sorrowmlly .iito Mr. Walde^jrave's fact derly munniirins "No; mean it! my preeioim (huiii;^ : don't v(i|| know 1 liave been loviiin vou all aloii;; ? — and yon- I am sure yon l(;ve nie hi reltirn, May ; yon cannot liidell, youi- sweet face is i'uil ol' it," he said sniiiiny; triumphantly. Was all this a deiicious dream ? No, it was a reality •- a reality i iiat Mr. AValde- grave loveil her — was asking' Ii't to be- j dear 10rne>,i: bu*. not no\ cun)e his wife. One wovtl, and she was ! sinidow ol disifrace l)etwe<'ii n-; lor dis- " No, Mr. \Val'Je;,'rave, I will not say th.'it, tor I do love yon; l)nt you know all that has happ(;iied dnrini.' yr)ur absence — (deneor.i has Infoiniiil yon, it no one el.se lia-. i\''>nt' .so, and do you think, after all til It, I will allow y(Ki to wed mey —MO, in- tleed.nol I inij^ht havn done so. " >iie ad- ded, *' wln-n I vvas only pool', with no on(! to care I'or me but Mr. Cliesso ii, and j oor W!i!i this Ills own forever; and vet — I'race and shame it is, thouL'li I be ie\e A little cold shiver that seemed to niv l)rol!ii;r to lie ;is iniiftceiit of tl thrill her heart icily, i):'.s,sed iliroMirii i alleijcid a'.:-nii«it the slemler liirure. She never conld— 1 heaven." !ii:n as tin nine sail! 8 in i> Mr. \Vuldegrav(! clasped her two liunJs je. in his own. uever would marry this man w!io w dearer to her than all tiie world l)'->if Sue iiad received free/.in^ly polite bow.s ' " .\Iy d<.'ar M;dtel," lm said ; "In spile and chillin.i{ touches of y;iovcd lin^ieriips, j of lUI circiiinst!inM:il eviijerice, I a!so be- IVom more tlia)) one <j1' .Mis:, (Jiie>»om's lieve iinplieity in yr)iir brotln-r".^ inno- Jriends, since the allair of ilie mis>inL,'' six | cence. I l)elieve lirm'y in his honor and hundred. Only an evenin,i;(»r twopnivi-j inte'j;rity: ;u;d some day, I doubt no!, his ous, wlide concealed bv llie curtains cjf a j innocen ;<• will l)i; proV' bay window, she had oviirheard from the Mabel looked up with a sl:i<l, ^ri'^itefu! lil)s of two of the l)aiiker s;:nests, sm-i-r ' sn)ih iui: lemarks reiaiive lo her broth an! '•Oil, vou are so LTood and {jreiierous, herseif. Oimlit sh ilien, with tlii^ : Mr. Waldej^ravi she murmured. shadow of di,>i:raee upon her. to weil .\nil .Mabel,"' Mr. \Vald(;;;rave con- man in wealih and name, and st.ation, so ; tiiiUi d. " even if Ik; were^^udty (;f all that far above her ^l)e, pool nobodv in ' is cliariri aiiaiiist him, no blame can particular, and the .stain of her Ijrother's i pos.siijly atlacii i,.< yourself; you are mor- dishonor— for dishonoi' it was, liowever ! l)idly sensitive my dear little gii;." unmerited — rertecrini: upon lier. N' no 1 a thousand time.-« no I \Ial)elsii;liefl. Otlu^r.-j are not so mai'naniinous, .Mr. She drew away from his embrace wit !i W'aldeuM'ave," she saiil i;rav'ly. H.V a weary little siu;li that was half a so •Yuu are vcrv- verv kin .'III' renei ■ vour c'liisin's frieii'K ai least. 1 an col' reL'".r<|e O! •It. Weri; vou ■ o wiarrv js, Mr. Wa'tle^iavi-: but I can never be me. yo i woald bi; pi'oyi?;.'j;lv re. ardi; u« vour wi! ii'-vi.-r; jnd yon do not love me : uuped am: i itatii;itei!, am 1 !■ )(/i:ed upon you (jiily j)iiy me,tje'.ause I am so u'.terly as a ^•tr of iii'i'cpn.uy 'nilriijn'iiUc who forlorn." hid inveiuh'd you into an nn<.'<i'ial mutch She spol wislfullv uilii— oh. sueli a with myve sorrowful i ^iil in the .-weet Idiie e.»e Ml'. \V.'iidi"j:riv.' fj'ow!!(;d hau;;!ilily. ••The opinion wir:':!i those vuphi mascu- nd," he said, in passionately ; lim.' and fv-aiinim.- adorers of my fail- But 1 do love vou, .Ma-, wua mv whole earnest tones; and yon will be my wi)e oiisin, of wliom you speak, holi] in le- ray own wife; lory'oii iuve m*', i am .sure 1 ir.'ud Kj i.';y.«elf, i>, ..f bid little moment; vou do lov' me.*'" j but tliey li'id be-tti.-r have a care that no Mabel freed herself fron; lii-s cl-isjK and ; a.sj)er.sioii- f:-o:n th«.-ir lips, air-dn-t luy risiiiy, uuirnjured hastily wife, reaches my ears, he said, with Ml itr 1^ fA THE BAXKER'S ClUAXntHTLDREX. Vb \ I V^ scornful iietcniiliialioii. " For .v.on will be mv \\ ife, M;ii)Ll ; promise me that you will." And Mabel, half triad, half teliictant, pDmiscd. Too much ab.-orb(d were tlio lovers to hear tho faiat rustle of a silken drtis.s, nor did they pcri-eivi^ the t1,<:nre tliat clipped past ♦tu'iii, oa tlii; opposite hide of.i ^;ly liMl'J wildfi'iK ss of bri,u;l;t tro})ic flowers, and passed into the drawiuij;- room l!*yond. Preseidly a sn-viiul, appeared. There was a seiith.inan, an okl eolU';ii' chum of Bertram's who, iiearinir of Uk^ hitler's stay at Tvickcnii.-im, hid nKulc it in Ii'.s way to cali and see him, and was now waitinjr inonc of tlie reception ''ooir.s for his appeariinee. So the servant, an- nounced, and Bertram went out to meet him; and iMabel remained in the n I'v-s- wsathed conservatory, with lier In ai' and eyes fall of exquisite happiness; and yet there was a little blendinfr of uneasi- ness in her bliss thac would not be banishc d. Twei ♦v minutes later .-oraebedy, liirlit- ]y whi!.»-.Iin,<r a bar of some popular melo- oy, ■:.!. red 'he conservatory. It was i\Ir. rhi'sterti>n ; and he did not at llrst perceive IMabel. He had unconsei()u>!y reach' (1 her slue, and was plucking- a spray of scriit«'d blossoms ere he noticed her He lau-rhed, in his gay, good- hu nori'<i (a>lnon. "Upon my win-d." he e.vcluimed; "you are sucli a wee fairy, I l)eHeve I sluJnhl i!ot have perceived you at all. only iliat I eaiiiiht the Ldeani of your golden curls ii! tlie <j;asl:j;ht " He .^lanced (biwn smilinjrly as he spoke into i!ie pr(!tty still flushed face, upturnetl toward his own. "A |jf liny fwr the Ihouyhts which -.verc' occupying your l)rain whi-n 1 unconsci- ously intruded. Tiiey must have i)een nimsuiilly plv'usant, judginu' from your lace, win n (irst I |n:rceived you," he said, and then lau.izlieii at her teasin;i!y. Just tlien Miss Chessom's maid entered the cimservatory. coming upon pretence < if plucking two or tliree mo.^s rose-lnids for her nd.stress; but, ii reality aenl by the latter, for the purpose of spying. The French, girl's sly black eyes iscaii- netl the pair furtively; Mabel, .fitting in her bower-like seat, with its cushions of <'merald green velvet; and Mr. t^liester- ton b nding over iier. and just fastening a shiny spray of ivy among tlw yellow ■,1. zes of her iiair. irtimihc ylided in, apparently taking very little notice o either of them ; but not tJiiling to take accurate note of every word and look of both. Neither Mabel or Mr. Chesterton noticed the gui particularly, nor were they aware that, instead of leaving direct- ly she had accomplished her pretended errand; but, as slie disappeared, Mr. Ciiesterton said : " My d' ar Miss Mabel, 1 am glad to (ind you here, and aloue. I have been wishing this evening to speak a few wonls with you. but scarcely expected an oi)portunity to ott'er thus early." There was some sli^iht sound without, and the Fr( nch girl, fearing lest she >li(>idl be caa^ht eavesdropping, glided oi! and upst-i/s to the main corridor where Miss Jhcssom awaited her. " Well," said the heiress Inter, ^ga- tiVetv. •• Monsieur Waldegrave was not with Mad:jmoiselle Wdlonghby when I enier- ed," said Artimist-; "I.e had gone, but Moiisicur — what is his name"? the tall, mid.dle iged gentleman. with the flue eyes T '•Mr. ("'hestertoii,"said Glencora, "was he makinu; love to the Willoughby"?" with a c<tnteniptnous laugh. '• Yes, it was hlMi." said the girl, and" — nodding sagaciously—" 1 am sure he was about to pi-opo>e, for he looked very lover like standing beside her, and ristenit;g Colliseuin ivy in that horrid yellow hair of her's ; and b(>sides, I over- heard a few words of his," — and she re- ptMited the last words of Mr, Chesterton which we have quoted. "^Visllillg to speak a few words with her, indeed," lauiiiiingly drawled Miss Clies<()i... "I can easily imagine what they will i)i';'' and she Ifted her flashing black eyes dramatically, exclaiming in pompous tones with mu<-h earnestness: ''fUve.t M;d)el! I adore thee. One worn IVom thy Ijtautlful lips can make me ciernally happy, or eternally niiser- alile? I'ake nie, 1 pray thee, riches, avxy hail-, tiiiy years and gouiy ,-y.iitowis, al- togei her." She burst into a gay lauL'h. "There, that's about ii, I suspect, Artiiiise. What do yon think ?" The gill smiled and shrugged. "I dare say," said she; "but surely, Madainoisdle, Mr. Miesterton is not fllty years of age; he tloesn't look like for y." "Oh, I am sure I ilon't know," suiil , Miss Chessom ; "but he's old enough to THE BANKER- S C!RANDCHILI)ltEK. 0') V 1 meet, iiely, rttty V K I' suul jh to '^e the gills father, anyliow. give ine the rosebuds, Arti, go down at once, or remarked." You may aud I will my absence will be CHAPTER XXVII. A UKVKLATION. "It is of this painful afi'air, in which your brother is inveigled I would speak, my dear child," s-iid Mr. Chesterton, gravely, as Mabel looked up, wailing for him to proceed. All the glad, bright light laded out of the sweet young face; and a little shiver ran through the slender frame Mr. Chesterton saw the wistful, pained look that came into the blue eyes, t.iid his next words were very gently attered. "1 know all about it my dear little gi.l," he said; •' aud only because it is neces- sary do I mention the atlair at all, know- ing that it cannot be otherwise than pain- ful to you ; but Mabel," and there was deep earnestness in his voice aud look as he spoke — "I can and will prove your br». her innocent." Mabel sprang fj her feet involuntarily. "Oh! Mr. Chesterton, are yonsiu'tyou can lio lliis ?" she '•.ried ea;ierly. '• Aye, audi will,' he answeretl tirmly ; "and the real culprit shall own his guili." "Then there is a culprit — some one has really taken the money i " said Mabel ; "I thought there might be some mistake." "Yes, there is a culprit," said Mr Chesterton, "who is cowardly enough to snfler an honorable man to be banished for his guilt. I would have waited for a day or two before telling you these things, ' he added ; "but I could not bear to see you grieving when it were possible ior me to restore your peace and happi- jiess at one. ' "And Ernest," said Mabel, "when is he to be recalled? OiiI.Mr. Chesierton, 1 shall be so happv for poor dear Ernest's sake." "If on tlie day after to-morrow the per- son who ^Jtole the sum, of which your brother has been accused of liaviiig wroni:fully taken, does not appear, or clear Ernest 'oy writing to Mr. Chessom, stating the whole att'air truthfully, tht-n i shall speak," Mr Chesterton said with decision. " And Ernest's name will be cleared of all dishonor," Mabel exclaimed joyously. "Oh! I can scarcely think how happy the assurance makes me >'r. Chesterton." Presently she asked suddenly : "And the name of the real culprit, Mr. Chesterton, may 1 know that now ?" "He is called Jarvis Chessom I" said Mr. Chesterton. Mabel's eyes dilated. ".Tarvis I can it be Jarvis T' she asked in astonishment. "Jarvis, and none other," said Mr. Chesterton; " aud the sum was stolen by him for the liquidation of a gambling debt. I found all this out <iuite easily while In London. Jiisten and 1 will in- form you how;" and thus he proceetled : " A day or two after my arrival in Lon- don last autumn, which was somethinar like a week previous to my ticcidental meeting with Judge llarcourt, I encoun- tered tiie son of an old I'riend. He is a wild, somewhat dissipated youn,^ man, as opposite in character and disposition from his father, as day and night. He lias succeeded in running throu'j:h with nearly every penny of the really large fortune which his father be(iueathed him, only a small estate inFaversham remain- ing of the amount of sixty thousand pounds in cish and real estate to which ins father's death rendered him sole heir. "I am in a srrapt," he told me, a day or two subsecjueiit to n\;,' tirst (•e//rv;;(/>vj with him. Kaid he- "Supp'/se you loan me live or six hundred for a month or so Chesterton, and take a mortgage on the old place at Faversham ? I'm in a desper- ate pinch," he added; " and Ave or si.v hundreds Just now would pull me through bravely. Come, what do you say to it?" So I gave him a check for six hundred, and the already involved estate at Faver- sham I took as security. A day or two before my last trip to London I received a letter from hira. "I shall be able to pay you four or live huiulreil ii) a week or two,'" he wrote me: "as that amount or more will by that tiiiK- bo paitl me by your rich host's iiicky grandson and heir prospective." 1 called on him at his hotel a fev days after reaching Loiuloit," .Mr Chesterton :idd('d, "aiul tbund Jarvis Chessom with him. ami Juwt placing in Walraven's hands tlie sum of t-ix hundred pounds in bank notes. Chessom had been imbibing somewhat I fieely, and was slightly ntuildled, so that 1 had little didieiilly in learning from his conversation howlu;, without his grand- father's knowledge, obtained that sura } for tiie payment of his garal)l'Ug debt. \ li was he, instead of your brother, who ' took the missing amount from Mr. Ches- V ,v J i 6G THE BA XKEir S GRA ND CinLDUE \. m sonVs escritoire; but I had no idea that Eruest was accused of the crime, or I should have returned at once." "lUit is there not a laciv of sufficient proof:" ' Mabel asked. " Will hot Mr. Clie^soni rci'use to believe V Mr. Chesterton smiled. '•Sciireelv 1 think," he replied ; "I have proof's quite too couvincin;| to admit of his (loins !>o. The l)ank notes which Chessom paid AValraven in my presenco, or at least live of them in notes of one hundred pounds each, he (Walraven) iramedialelv handed over to me: thev are in my possession at present, antl as I learned fr<Hn ISlr. Chessom about hall' an hour ago, are numbered the same as the missing ones "And Mr. Ciiessom, does lie know this ?" Mabel inquired. " No, he knows nothing," Mv (.'hester- tou replied; "I mtrely suggested that if the numbers of the notes were ascertained some trace of them might yet be found; he happened to know the numl)ers, and informed me, and, as I have said, they were the .same as those now in my pos- session." Mai)ers blue eyes were dewy bright. '•Dear Ernest, all this blot will be taken away and his good name restored. Oh I Mr. Chesterton, how can we ever suf- flcientlv thank you for all your kinil in- terest ?" Mr. Cliesterton laughed gaily, and would not listen to thanks. '•But little girlie," he said, "1 have been waiting lor some expression of triumpli over tlic fair autocrat Glencora. la there not enough woman-nature in you to cau^e a felicitous feeling at being able to return those taunting words of hcr's, and declare her l)rother, and not your own, to be tlie guilty one ?" Mabel looki'd up with a smile. "I am too happy to think of revenge,'' she saiil; "but 1 am sorry for Mrs. Ciiessom and Mr. (liiessom. and for Jar- vis— poor Jarvis. Somehow it is uniike him, this cowardly silence. Are you sure,"' she atlded, " that he is aware that Ernest IS accused?" "There is a possibility that ho mayjiot b(! aware of that," Mr. t!hest(;rton re- plied, "though his grandfather informs nio thai, immediately after the discovery of the theft he v.rcte him— Jarvis— telling him of the aliair. lie has rec<-'ived no reply as yet; and it is just possible that Jarvis may not have received Iheletter; or ihiit he may deem it liest to return, and in person confess I.i.nself, instead of Ernest, guitly. However, in a day or two, we ^hall bo ab'.i' tojiulue of the cor- rectness of this lalt'u- coiiJ.'Cture, as bv that time he will have had more than time to return from the we.-,r." " It will be a sad blow to his grand- father," ]Mabid said sori'owt'ully. " He knows how wiUl and r(;ckless Jarvis" habits have become of late; but 1 am sure he does not deem him capal)le of a really dishonoraiilu action " Mr. Cliesterton was looking;- thought- fully down, as Mabel spokn, and sermed scarcely to hear her words. Suildenly he glanced up saying : "Mabel, has Mrs. Chessom always treated you with the same coo'; .^ss which she has exlubit(;<l toward you since my coming here ? It seems to me," lie ad- ded, "that she grows more cold in her treatment of you — as if slie positivtly disliked you— each day." Mabel knew very well wliat prompted the haughty coolness wiiicii, ol' late, charactcized Mrs. Chessom's manner toward herself; but s!»e answered Mr Chesterton's question very quietly, say- ing : "No, until six months ago Mrs. Cho<- som, though she was never atlec:.i )nate, treated me kindly. She is very mucU changed in her manner toward ine." Mr. Chesterton i-miled a little oddly. "One seldom meets a \ro lan just like Mrs. (Chessom," he said. "Slu! must have been very lieautiful as a girl," i\Iabel remarked ; "she is so l)e;iu- tiful now. !so woudi.'r Mr. Clu'ssom's son loved her; and stiil— " "Still what V" Mr. Cliesterton asked. "Still," Mal)el half hesitatingly went on, "there is sometimes a look i i her eyes, in her whole face (;veii, and of late especially, wldch startles, almo>t terr;- lies me ; a look thai—" "That reminds Mie of what?" Mr. Chesterton asked; "of a lieautiful, at sometimes, and ar, others of a sphmdid, tigoress at bayV" Mabel glanced up in astonishment. Only that very day while at the table she had seen Mr. Clu!stert,on bend for- ward and utter some smiling, low-spoken remark to the stately hostess ; and hud wondered at the look which the latter flashed up at him, as he ceased speaking. Truly there vv'as that in the bUick orbs very like the fierce glare of a huntetl tigeress, though the Binile on the lady's 77//; JIAXK /■:/,' S aUAXDClIILDnEX. 67 orUUy. 1st, liUo itnl as bi';iu- <om's !lsk('(l. Weill i 1 hor ofhito tcri-;- •' Ml-. fill, !«r. Mulid, r.nent. tuble lul for- ipokon iiid had e laltt.'i' ■liking. :k orl)s huntetl lady's lips iiover vanished or grew less suavely urbaiio. "You are apt at physiognomy, Mr. ChestLTtoii," Mabel s;iid-, "and iho tijier- C'ss like expression of which yuu speak, I never perceived until to-day at dinner: then Mrs. Chessom a-lanciii up at you,' replying' to .some woitls of youf t)\vn. Your remark must have been very liis- agreeable," she added, sinilini,'. "Only a very comuion-place observa- tion I assure you," Mr. Chesterton re- plied. "But, Ihouiih trivial, it miijht, perhaps, have recalled some i.npleasunt reminiscence," he added, tlryly. There was a moment's pause ami then Mr. Chesterton asked : "About Leijrh ; I should like to see his portrait. Is there not a portrait of him any where in the house ?" "There is a i)ictare ^;f him han:,Mni;- in Mr. Chessom's study; but I have never seen it," .Alabel replied. " In his anu^er, Mr. Chessom, after his son's marriaiie, \vas about to distroy the portrait, but, instead, had it turned, and screwed face to the fall; and since his death I think ho has never had the heart to have it again touched. A year ago Mr. \Valde- grave's mother, who is Mr. Chessom's niece, told me that my brother was very like her cousin Leigh. 'Enough like him to be Leigh's own son,' she declared." "Yes, 1 ()i)v-c knew Leigh, and Lrnest is very much like him, both in look and inanuer," said Mr. Chesterton. " Mr. Chessom, also, has perceived the likeness, and more than once remarked it," he added, "He was so good and noble," Mabel said sorrowfully; "if Jarvis were onlv more like him." Mr. Chesterton did not reply; he was just drawinu^ from an inner pocket of his coai a s.uall case, beautifully itdaiil and mounted, as Mal)el spoke. He opened the case and held it toward her. .Mabel took it half wonderingly. It contained two pictures : one, that oi' a youth ^A' per- haps twenty, with a luce bright and lia'id- somo; the other of a delicately beautiful girl, of not more than seventeeu or eighteen summers. "Do you recognize either of those?" Mr. (Chesterton inquired, as Alaliel, after studying the vignettes intently for a few moments, looked up at him (uicstion- iugly- " Why," said she. "I should say this one"— iudicnting the gentleman's pie'ure — " was a likeness of mv l)rotlier. as he looked two years ago; or else it is your own picture, taken perhaps twentv vears ago." Mr. Chesterton smi.led. "That is a fac-simih! of Leiuh Chi.'s. sum, and painted just twenty live years ago." ^label uttered an involuntary exclama- tion of astonishment. '• So like Ernest; and so vcnj llki^ your- self," she said. " And who is tli;j ladv. Mr. Chesterton ?" A tender, half mournfullight came into the clear, dark eyes of the gentlemau, as he answereil : " His wife. Slie who was once sweet Grace Windiiani I" he said. ^Maljel gazed in perfect amaze at the vignette. "Oh, Mr. Chesterton, surely there must be some mistake. How ronhl any- one so dark, so brilliant, so haughty, as Mrs. Chessom has been, ever since I car. at :dl rememljcr anything, have ever been a lovely, dove eyed creature like Mils ?" — pointing to the vignette. "Surely Mrs. Chessom, in yonder, and the original of i this picture, are not one and the same." "Surely not," he answered calmly. "Leigh Chessom's sweet young wife died years ago. Yonder ([Ueenly voinan is — ' he looked at astonished Mabel with a grave earnestness that was convincing — '• an iinposter I" CHAPTER XXVIIL A .IKlI.OrS I.OVKli. " I am perfectly bewildered, Mr. Ches- terton," Mabel said. " And yetl have still more astoundinii revelations to make," he»answeretl, smil ing slightly. " Listen, child, Mrs. Ches- som is an imposter; and Leigh Chessom is not dead, l)nt living I" " Living V— is Mr. Chessom's sou liv- ing /" Mabel asked, after a moment's pause of utter bewilderment. " Living and in the Ilesh," was the answer. "And this Mrs. Chessom then, who is she 'i" asked Mabel, wonderingly. " She is the widow of one Ernest \\\\- loughby— dauyhter of the late Captain Islington, anil step-sister of Grace \Vinil- ham, whom Leiuh Chessom married!" n I V ! 4 4 i\ •68 THE BAXKER\S GRAKDCHILDREN. I ' W % \ ) Mabol sprang to her feet with an invol- untary cry. "My mother !— she is my mother then !" she jrasped, " No, listen," Mr. Chesterton saijl, gonlly drawing her into the seat again •over which he vvas still bending "Agatha Willoughby is not your mother, but the mother of Jarvis and Glcncoia ; Ernest and yourself are the real children of Leigh and Grace Chessom !" Mabel had been astonished before, ihe grevv positively dizzy now with the utter amaze which Mr. Chesterton's last words created in her mind. Would she not waken ere long, she half wondered again, and llnd that all the marvelous things to which, during the last hour, she had lis- tened, were but the passing fancies of a dream ? No, she was not dreaming; and there was convincing earnestness in Mr. Chesterton's look and manner. " Can all this be real, Mr. Chesterton?" she a'iked, her limpid eyes wide open and ga/iug at him. 11;; smiled at her bewilderment. "Every word, little Mayflower," he said, lookiiig down teuder;v into the sweet young face as he spoke. Mabel sat in wondering silenc " for afew moments, then a sudden thought came to her. Leigh Chessom was her father, Mr. Chesterton had, but a moment ago, de- clared him to be still living— where was he ? She looked up, saying eagerly : "You say he is still alive, my father and Ernest's, pray tell me where he is, Mr. Chesterton ; shall we ever tind him?" Mr. Chesterton toyed caressingly wiih her golden hair, saying : " Can you not yi(ess, little Mayflower? Have you no idea irhere your papa is at present ? What a mystery it all was. She looked up wonderingly, cargerly, for a moment witliout replying; then arose nith a sudden cry. O^juld it be ? " You— you are not ? — " she began, a light of the whole truth breaking in upon her. The next moment Mr. Chesterton was holding her closely in his arras, fondly kissing her. "1 am your father, little May," he said tenderly ; "and you— my precious little darling- you are my own sweet daugh- ter! Now you know nil, dearest," he added; "a week later the world shall know, also." "Look yonder!" Glencora Chessom, as we for the pre- sent shall continue to call lier, whispered those words, leaning on the arm of Ber- tram Waldegrave, in thedeor of the con- servatory. She pointed one white gemmed flnger,as she spoke, toward an opening among the flowers, through which Mr. Chesterton's, or rather Leigh Chessom's form was dis- tinguisba*^le, under the soft glow of the gas-light, and Mabel's slight figure, also, fondly clasped in her father's embrace. Her golden head lyin;; on his breast. " Li.sten !" softly whispered Glencora; and Mabel spoke .softly at that moment. "Oh ! I am so hap[)y— so verv happy," she murmured; and her slender white arms were twined lovingly about her father's neck. "I think I shall never know again what it is to be lonely or sad, "she said joyous- ly, reaching up to touch her rosy lips to the dark, slightly silvered locks ; a caress which was fondly returned, with the words : "Heaven bless you, little darling, and grant that you never may. You never shik'il, so long as it lies in my power to avert it." Gleucora turned her splendid eyes, with a flash of mocking triumph toward Waldegrave; a bright, dazzling smile on those haughty, ruby lips of her's. An hour ago, standing just where she now stood, with Mabel's attianced beside her, she had played the eaves-dropper, and listened unseen while Waldegrave declared his love, and begged the lonely little ^irl to become his wife— had watched the twain with eyes that were like liquid flame, while Waldegrave clasped Mabel in his arms, bestowing upon hersweet tremu- lous lips an accepted lover's kiss. Then she had swept away to her chamber, and paced to and fro, in a fterce rage that was all the fiercer for being silent. "The artful intriguing .Tezabel!" she hissed at length ; "she shall never marry him, never r^ Then she summoned her French maid. "Go down to the conservator Artie," she said ; "I want two or three more rose buds lor my hair. If Mr. Waldegrave and that Willoughby girl are there, you may hear If you can what they are saying. Go at once if you please;" and Artiniise went down, and returned presently with what information we already know. Glencora placed the buds among the coils of her black tresses, and went W TI{K liAXKRirs GUANDCIIlLJU^Ky. 69 ll" she Imarry maid, irtie." \c rose Bgrave |e, you laying. Itimise witli )g tbe went down to the ilniwiii^ room, vvliich WaUlc- grave entered a iniimte later. She l)f'ck- oned him to her side. How marvelously beautiful she looked; and there was more of geutlem-ss, less of piquant, arrogant coquetry, than was wont in her manner. There was a wonderful, almo!i«t pathetic sweetness in her smile, too, that was very sweet, very winning. Truly, hor'j' were 'lip? thiit could smile, ami murder while they ^smiled V "Grand-papa tells me that he purchased to-day u beautiful species of lily, whicii is very rare I believe," she said, after a few moments conversation with Her- tram. "Come, let us look it it,'" she ad- ded, rising. " Grand-papa had it placed next to the great calla ; so we shall be able to find it ;"' and Waldegrave followed her to the conservatory. Bertram was in a mood too exstatic to indulge miich in discourse of the frivol- ous nothings to v/hich onlyGlenccra cared to listen; and Glencora herself, for once, was not chattering ; so they crossed the drawing room in silence, and reached the door of the conservatory just in time to witness Mabel, as she sal encircled by her father's arms, to hear her softly mur mured words : "I am so happy — so very happy." Even Glencora was more than aston- ished, lu her heart she knew Mabel to be all that was innocent and ingenuous in heart and mind ; aud as far above mer- cenary intrigue as heaven is above earth ; and this unworuanly deception on her part seemed incomprehensible. "The girl is a fraud alter all," f-he thought ;"and hasn't she played the sweet saint superlatively ?" The brilliant heiress was supremely triumphant. How her black eyes flashed forth from their silken fringed lids. "What a fine mameuverer the girl is, to be sure,"' she whispered; "you see .she has entrapped the rich colonist at la.st. Come, let us go ; it vfould be a pity to spoil so cliarmiDg a ~ab)eau." \Valde;,r'i^-c folloWvid her in silence. His face was so sternly set, so unearthly in its pallor, that Ciencora was awed, half .startled ; and yet siie foiund a ssrt of cat- like delight in torturing him. Her silvery laugh rippled out mu«i. cally, as they emerged from the purple diawing-room. "How utterly devoted the elderly A.lonis appears,'" she said gaily. " And the girl, is she not a marvellous actress?" He laughed so carelessly, so li;{hlly that Glencora looked up into his white face, and wondeit-d if he were wholly heartless, or if tiiis gay indld'erence of manner was assiimed. CH.M'TKIi X.M.V. " Tlift .'■poll !■; iirokc. \\u: (thiirin i.s llnwii ! ThuH is it with lit'c'.^ lit.l'ul \\:vi^Y : AVe mildly sinih; wln.-n wi; slioiild ki'oum." There was a sicU, dizzy blindness be- fore Waldegravc's eyes, a vice-lik(\ sulfi)- calinggrip at his hcut and throat that,f()r a moment, half eheckcnl his utteiance. He conquered it llixigh witli an effort that was superhuman, and k"pt on nie(!t- ing Miss Chessom"s Mashing, scrutinizing glances calmly, ami t.dking to her in a lively strain that cai'sed him to half mar vel at himself. He bent his handsome li'-ad toward his companion, as he made reply to her lauyliing, supercilious remark, and his lightly utl<;ied words were as carelessly, iio)irliuln)i( as his smile. "Pray, what young l.idy would not condescend to employ her iiistrionic skill for the purpose of attaining so golden a prize '•"' he asked. (Jlencora lauirhed contemptuously re- plying, with a little toss of her shapely iieud : •' No girl would hesitate, I supps(;, who was as mercenary and ambitious as .Mabel — and really,'" she added, "naif the girla —especially girls in Mabel's position — poor, I meau — make it their chief aim to trepan a wealthy husband— to inveigle a man into marrying them, if he happens to be unf<jrtunatvi enough to posse.->s a considerable fortune; but Mabed exceLs in that sort of thing: she in such a com- pleie actres5, and so hypocritical. Just to think, my dear cousin, of her bestow- ing; upon her elderly adorer such lavish caresses, and declaring herself— as she phrased it—' .so very, very happy.' Pro- fessing such gushing sentiment for a man who is quite old enough to be her father. Oh, it's too absurd I" and .Miss Chessom laughed out disdainfully. Mr. Waldegrave smiled .siitlrJcally. " Iteally now, my dear Glen," he 8atd, " \ am inclined to believe that your cou- sin spoke quite truthluHy when she dc« i ro THE HA XKhJJi'.^ (JUA XDClllf.VnEX. I It;! \S\ dared herself ncrij liapiiv. What fu'r (leinoisellft would— could be so unreason- iibl'! as to be otl crwise uuderthecircum- stau ;es cxisiiufr. Mis.« Willouiiliby is quit ; portionless; Cliesterlori lays at her fee;, aloiii^wilh his heart, ii priucely for- tune ; and why should she not L'raciousiy acct'pt both o(rerin;;s ? To be sure,'' ho added, " their union will be a sor: of ' May and November' one; Iv.it what siij- uilles that? Think of the iuiniense wealth — the rich colouist's income is consider- ably hu'frer than your j;i'-'uidpapa\seven— the"^ superb estiiblishment and magniflcent diamonds. What more, pray, could the feminine ambition crave ?" Glencora laughed. "You are becoming cynical cousin Bertram," she sdd, lightly, as they re- entered the blue drawing-room. Waldegrave went out ou the balcony, presently leaving his cousin chattering with Lady St. Ayvas, to whose remarks— though Glencora disliked, aud slyly ridi- culed her ladyship — she felt a sortofaro- gant gratiticatioa in listening, for the haughty heiress was weak enough to be fond of flattery, aud Lady St. Ayvas always tlattered those whom she v/as desirous of pleasing. Bertram paced to ami fio, out in the chill night air with rapid nervous strides ; his haughty face white i.i the pale, uncer- tain glimmer of the twilight. The mask of light iuditlerence was dropped new; and what a scern, almost tierce face it was, so rigid in its set aud outline, A great stormy battle raged furiously within his heart. Augry mortification, pain aud bitter disappointment, all en- gaged in the passionate conflict. She was so beautiful— this golden- haired little orphan girl, and he had loved her idolatrously— had believed her so gentle, so loving— so everything that was womanly and honorable. Good heavens ! a cheat— a heartless, intriguing fortuue-huutress ! He had been duped, deceived, and by a woraan unwomanly, conscleucjless enough to break her vows scarce ai: liour after they were uttered, because a still greater for- tune was laid with Its owner's heart at her feet. lie flung himself into a seat, feeling a vague sense of relief as the cool night- wind fanned his hot, throbbing temples. He had been an edlot— he told himself— a dupe ; he would be one no longer. At least this faithless siren should have no opportunity of laughing at her victim. llo would ignore Iier carelessly, aiiil on the morrow vvtuild sue for tlie fair hand of his cousin Glt-ncora ; and wiih this rush resolve he returned to the drawing- room. Maiiel was sested at the piano, playing a bewitching, h;dl" dreamy waltz that was a favorite of I'.Ir. Chesterton's; and ]\Ir. Chesterton was standing beside her when Waldegrave entered. She finished, and turned from the iu-< strument presently ; and their eyes met. There was a sweet shyness in her glance, a cold, utter indifl'erence in his, that pained and puzzled her. The next mo- ment he rose and crossed over to where (ilencora sat. She made room for him beside her on the divan; and for the re- mainder of the evening he devoted him- self to her. Lady Wiunifred, sitting near Mabel, saw and understood the change that crept into tlie sueet girlish fa^-e wliicli, Initjnst now, had been so bright. There was the same sorrowful droop to the full ripe lips, the same wistfulness in the blue eyes, the same weariness tha' had marked the fair face a few hours back. " Ls he so cowardly 'i '' Lady Winuifred mentally wondered. " Has he caused this sweet young girl to believe that he loves her, and now trifles with her by flirting wil i his arrogant cousin? It surely looks like it." Miss Chessom's flashing eyes watched the lovers furtively. She saw how hard Mabel was striving to appear carelessly calm, and inwardly triumphed. " She is barbarously uiercenary after all her afl'ected sweetness," she said, mentally. " She will marry ChCHterton because he Is wealthier than Waldegrave ; and yet she loves him madly ; it is torture for her to see him thus attentive to me.'' Waldegrave found it a miserable task sitting there, struggling to keep a smil- ing front, and flirting recklessly with his coquettish cousin to revenge the woraan he loved for having, as he thought, played him false. He wondered desperately how he should stand It for the time to come. He couW not— would not endure to remain at Maplewootl longer. He would relln,zulsb his first rash intention of marrying Glen- cora, and go away somewhere— any where where a woman was a creature unheard of— If such a haven could be found. Presently Glencora said : " There Is to be a kettle-drura at Mrs. Vavasor's a week from to-night ; of course '/•///•; liAXKEh'S Gh'AXDCflfLDh'JCy. '1 ifter said, rton ave; ture me." task srail- ,b his man iayed loulcl :ouW ia at ruisb ilea- i^here learcl 1 Mrs. )urse \vn shall all ha hivito.l; and of coiirso \vt3 .shall ail attend, and assist in pickini; to pit'ccs tliosG of our H'-'([iiaintancos who don't liappen to bo likewise present. Doubtless we shall be able to hear all about the romantic marriaixe of Lady Kosevidl's brother with the governess of her ladyship's children," she added, ad- dressing Bertram. Waldei!;rav(; laiKJChed carelessly iis ho ! answered. i " How I regret," lie said, "that [ inu>t j be excluded trom the delightful priviled,£j;e j of listening to all the newest scandal witii i which you will be treated just a week I hence." ! "But why are you not going ?"' in- j quired Glencora. ' " You will go ?" nodding toward Mr. i Kimnieltou, who came their way at that! moment, in search of a book of charades which he had that day brought home, and which he wished to show to Miss IVil- loughby. lie bosved. "I am hoping to have that pleasure," he said. " Nothing but a material ob- stacle should ever prevent me from at tending a kettle-drura, to which I have received an invitatiou. I really couldn't," he added, "afford to miss so much charm- ing amusement." Glencora turned, with playful depreca- tion, toward Bertram again. " We canno' permit you to do other- wise than accompany us," she said, laughingly. " Indeed, I don't believe there's a shadow of pretext for your re- maining away." Waldegrave's shoulders contracted in the least possible shrug. He bowed gal- lantly, however, smilingly replying. "Believe me," he said, " I, like Rim- meltoo, should not allov/ any obstacle but one of immense magnitude to prevent my attendance of so delightful and en- livening affair as a kettle-drum, particul you are forced to leave us again ju.>t ;ifter your let urn." " How long shall you ronialn in Lon- don?" inquired Mr. Ciicstcrton. " I don't purpose staying longer than two or tlirec! days," Waldegrave ri-plied, so stillly that Mr. Chesterton— as we shall caii him for the present — noted the sudden change in the young man's man- ner, and wondered. " liiu,*' add(!d liertram, turnlntr and acldr'ssing his uncle again, '• I regret to inform you that I shall be obliged to re- iiirn from thence home." Glencora Chessom gave a s;vlden start in spite of herself. Shi was W(;ll aware why Waldegrave had determined to leave Maplev'ood for good. If only tiiey could persuade him to alter his dctermintition, and remain? But no; he would not re- main, she was certain, under the samii roof A'ith the woman whom he had loved and who liad proven lierself so false. But he niHst iwt leave Maplewoo 1 on the morrow. She would persua(l(! him to stay just one day longer; and on that day Mabel should be ousted, she mentally declared. She would effect the orphan's speedy banishment from the house by informing her mother and gi-andfather of tlie hitter's unwomanly and heartless conduct toward Bertram. " Why, my dear boy," Mr. Chessom said in .^ui prise, " this is a real disap- pointment. V,'e expected you to r'iinain some time longer." "Grace," he added, addressing Mrs. Chessom, who until that moment had been so engaged in con- versation with Lady St. Ayvas as not to have heard Waldegrave's announcement of his sudden prospective departure, " Waldegrave leaves us for good, to- morrow !" Mrs. Leigh Che.ssom looked up on hear- ing her father in law's words, with a face full of an expression that was more like a combination of disappointment and i constermitiou than that which she en- arly at"Mrs. Vavasor's ; but I learn by ; dravored to make It alone appear, of my friend, who called a little while ago, | regretful surprise. She came forward, that it is not only necessaiy but impera adding her persuasions to those of her tive for me to return to London early to- \ daughter, for Bertram to remain. j But, though politely and sincerely ex- i pressins' himself grieved at thus being , forced to so suddenly and prematurely morrow morning," " How very provoking .Miss Chessom, with an I'" exclaimed annoyed little pout. The banker, who was seated near, play- ing whist with Mr. Chesterton, looked up at his nephew, saying : end his pleasant visit at Maple wood, he was firm in his resolve to leave early the ensuing morning. Mabel Willoughby heard her lover thus hl\ m "This Is really too bad, Bertram, that 1 calmly announce his intention of depart- « THK liAXKKWS GUAXDCllILDnEN. I. iuff on the morrow; ami LacJy Winnifrcd bclioldiDg the ro.sc-lcaf tintiiijt fade so suddenly out of her face, half rose, fear- iufi that she was about to faint. " May, dearest, you are ill. I fear," slie murmured in tones too low to rcacli other ears than those of her friend. "Let me fetch you a <>lass of 'vater from yonder carafe, ' she added in alarm, as Mabel caught nervously as if for support at the arm of the chair in wliich she vvas seated—" you look as it about to faint." '•No, no," ilear Lady Winnifrcd," Mal>el whispered in reply, " I am better now: it was but a momentary faintness, and I shall not be so foolisli as to swoon." she added with a little poise of haughty pride to her graceful liead. "I must, I vill be calm," she tJionght desperately, and then turned to Mr. ]{iminclton, who returned to her side at tliat moment, witli a pleas- ant little smile, though it was a very forced one, and wreathed lips that trembled and were paler than wont. Of course, genera! regret was I'.lt and expressed that the banker's handsome relative and guest was about to leave Twickenham. Even Mr. I^immeltou, wlio had been horribly Jealous of the rival whom, until now, \\v, had believed the favoied one, felt lialf inclined to l)e sorry that Waldegrave was really going away, the while he rejoiced that the field would tlien contain uo other really formidab.e contestant for the lovely prize which he was striving to win, but which he felt, with a sort of uncomfortable uneasine.>s, ac he thought of his father's heavily mortgaged estates at Morcomhe, he could but ill afibrd to possess himself of. "Hang it!" he would mentally ejaculate, " why in the name of Creosus am 1 not like Waldegrave, ricli enough to afford the luxury of such a dear littie jewel of a penniless wife? Ch, dear I if love wasn't so much like lightning, or if I could have falleu in love with the coquettish Glen- cora, and won her, instead of making an idiot of myself by allowing my stupid head to be turned by the iovellness of her dowerless cousin. What the plague, I wonder, would the frater say if he knew what an imbecile 1 have beci me? Hut, confound it 1 what fellow's head is philosophical enough lo remain unturn- ed with the smiles of such an angel to bewilder It ?" CHAPTER XXX. '' l''i)r Love is like a c.trcl .«3 uhilil, FoFKCttins promise i);ist ; lie is bliml or il'Mt' whene'er he list- Ills faitli is never fast-'' -Old Hall,„K Half an hour later, when the hostes.s and most of her guests were occupied in looking over a pile of new music, and the liost had resumed his whist playing with Mr. Chesterton, Waldegrave took advantage of the opportunity thus pres- ented to slip away for a few moments. He wanted a breathing space, and rising he crossed over to a bow-window at the opposite end of the long room and stood looking out gloomily into the starlit February night. Presently a soft touch fell on liis arm, and a dulcet voice murmured : " Cousin IJertram!" and liertram turned and look- ed into the enchanting black eyes of his cousin Glencora. " Are you taking a farewell look at Maplewood by star- light?" she inquired, pushing further aside the sap[)hire folds ot the heavy vel- vet curtains and looking out also at the lovely, quiet scene. "We are all so very much disappointed that you are going away, so unexpectedly," she continueti, adding : "But you will grant mejust one favor ere you go, Bertram?*' and she looked up at him almost pleadiiigiy. She looked— oh, so marvelously !air, stand- ing thus in the sulxlued half light, half shadow, her waxen fingers clasped light- ly on his arm. Waldgrave's eyes rested upon her in a sort of enchantuicnt. lie half forgot f(;r tlie moment his incipient l)elief that all women were alike false and heartless, as he looked into the alluring eyes of this most coquettish and heartless of her sex. " Grant you a favor, cousin Glencora?" he said, "I shall be most happy to do so, if it is at all possible." She smiled winningly, dazzlingly. " Then remain here at Maplewood just one day longer," she said, "just to please me, cousin Bertram."' A shadow of pain crossed his hand- some face. Could he remain in the same house with Mabel Willoug^iby auotlier day? 77//; iiA xk' !■:/,• s ah'AXDc.'iiLninis. i •> Is, ns this her At that moment a sn-opt <iirli,>li voice lloated ill soft melody tlinm^ti tin; room. It was Mabel's biriii«li tout's; she hiul been solicited to siim, niid was siii^iDy the (iiiaint, old sonji of tli.' nmeasomably jeilous Jover, beginninii— I'Hiiw ci»n she. h'.rv ">/i .^lic l)i> ot'ior tliin true? There i.-i truth in iier liiiipi.l oyc iniii'volous hi 110 ; . And yet. wfl! I l<n(i '• s'lo i< ("ilaono.*? irsolf : .**iie will flin;f iiwiiy l'>'.-e f.ir a h:inil(iil of wealth." Waklegrave set hi-< t(>r-t'i hnrd and looked over at the ijronp abor.t the piano — looked over just in time to see Mr. Chesterton turn a piue in Mabel's music, and to perceive the latter n;lance no into the pleasant, handsoiiic fac of the for- mer with a bright sn.ih- that was unmis- takably fond. Mabel was brave and intPii-fly pi-oud. and, thonjrh the paleness that .ivVrspread her lace at lirst ^'ave place in licr cheeks to a feverish glow of rich cirnation. though her slendei hands trembled a little, and to be c:dm ;ind alioiretlier lier natural self cost her a desprrate eft'ort, she maintained her i}«ui)serenii,y heroic- ally, and, when nri>cd, sana without ever a tremor in herbliihe, clear voice. 1 Did ever more truth, or love, or con- ] stancy shine forth fr.)m "limpid ori)s of; marvelous blue"' thnn iiad looked out [ from Mabel's bright eyes that very night ^ !•■' > those of Hertram Waldeirrave ? and now — oh I heartless, cruel, shameless I— | she could sit, codlly sin-iing that frivol- I oua song, with Mr. Chesterton bending j in tender devotion over her and return- ing sweetly, innocently, the fond iiiances , which he bestowed upon her: and nil this j under the very eyes of the nnm whom I she had deceived I Waldegrave looked, and for the mo- 1 ment forgot the presence of the beautiful j woman beside him - forgot the mo i en- j tary enchantment he but just now, though j not for the first time, experienced when I looking into those superb, flashiui: eyes, j when listening to tli#; melodious music of her clear voice. And Glencora watched; him, and devined the current of the \ tUoughts that whirled through his brain 1 with wonderful accuracy. Again Mabel sang : ".So brightly onchiindnsr, so wnndrously f ir, Suoh flecking-! of sold in her rippling h ir. Ah ! fair, yet I know she too -iiirely will prove All false to her proinijo— nil fait liess to love. " Waldegrave turned away his head with savage abruptness, as if to thrust from his ears the sounds of tin; sweet voice which carolled >o bewitchingly the quaint old ballad. He fe!t that he was becoming half maddened. No', he would not, could not remain h<'re another day, even for the sake of a hundred encliauting cous- ins with bewitching black eyes and smiling ruby lips. He remembered now that he must an- swer his cousin's reciuest, and turned tovvard her, saying : "Mv deaf cousin, 1 am sorry, very sorry, that circumstances render it im- possible for me to remain even one day longer here I must deny mysolf that pleasure. Anything else," he added, •I will promise anything else," (ileucora bit her lip, replying coldly with heightened color: '• I'lu're is an- other favor I would a.sk, cousin I>er- tram." Then her vexation vanisheil. or she foncpided it. and she spoke again with a sweit smilr : " 1^ is to obtain a pronu e that we siiall not be deprived for a very longtime of seeing you. We shall miss you so much, cousin Bertram, so very much ; and we are all so sorry to lose you -Grandpapa is actually in de- spair," WaUlegrave looked again, with a ming- ling of odd sensations, into those singularly smiling eyes. Almost any young man has vanity ; very few young men are quite proof against all flattery; and here stood Glen- cora Chessom, the brilliant heiress of tlie ricli banker's immense fortune, or at ienstofa magnitlcent portion of it, the co(iuettish rejectress of numberless suit- ors, the most courted, souiiht afier younii be^mty anywhere in Loudon or its en- viron.-; and she stood beside him — she who had trampled ou the hearts of a hundred luckless swains— with her white hands clasped on his arm, her facelifted tovvard him and aglow with a radiance that must have been born of love. She loved him— this proud, fair heir- ess. He kn .*vv it ; for she scarcely strove to conceal her love. Well, and why not marry her and revenge Mabel, as he had at lirst resolved ? A miserable pang clutched lils heart at the thought of wedding another thau the gentle, loving little girl whom he had loved so dearly, and whose love and faith he ha' I so trusted. Ah I how could she — how dared she deceive h'mso? He choked back a sigh that was nearer a sob, and detested himself for his weakness 1 jTO*' tl hi 74 '/•///v' HA XKKJrS (./.'AXlx '!:: LI)!! IIX. He WHS pi'oiul— no: irnililcss of n littN^ni' rnasciiliiK-' vaiii'v. imd out IVorii amonirst, Ills iiii-*i'iy iUKi i«i(k>'iiii);: disappohit- uieiit his Viinlty iirulo plaints of its '.vouiiils; iiiul til" vowed I'tfuiii to wrd irs tMHisin. A >ii{ldt'li impulse, lioni of pi'ide, jn'ompti'd liiiii to tiirn mid iliere !i>l< lic'i- To niiirry Idiii; but tlic be;mti(ii!. d» ad idol, wli'cli ill its swi'i't, hiiil ivimi lit; liad so woisliipped, lay cold !iiid still in its dc'S(!crated teniple: !ii)d his lieiiit niunnurtd soirowfully. " Not i!o\v, not now'; wait until tins be.'iutil'dl. dead thiufr is hidden, buried, if siot !or:!;otten. " And all the timi; Glohoofii was furtiv' - ly Watching him from beneiitii those Avhite. silkc-n-lVina'cd lid>j. He bcthouyht liimseif presently, i\rn\ strove to appear naturally, anrl fiypo- eritically declired lumself iniich disap- jiointcd that his vi-^i" iiiiist be tims snu^- mariiy cut short, the wliik- he !'( It i;ke pliiiiLiin.ir inadiy oiit of .Maplewood House, tnul away ioin TwickeidiaiM and Mabel \Villoii;.'h'vv and everyildi.;^ tiiat reminded li'm of her. Directly lieproposeil joitiin:: tiieirronp at the piano, where Lady Winuifred St. Ayva.s was now playinji' a liv'ely /,v'/.se. Gk'«cora reacle.'i! up to toy li^hMy with the moss rose-l)iid, Mliich, u few mo- ments bi'fore, she iiad fastened i-i the hutton-h(»le of his coat. " Not unrii you liave made me one iirotnise," she de- clared i)l;iyfully ; '* you know you have proirnsed to a:rant any other ivtjiiest I may choose to ask " He smiled, replying: "Anything, as unreasonable as you please, my dear cousin, even if it be a reque.st as unconscionable as that of the lair daughter of HeriMlias.'' His voice wa.s so light and careless again that ]\Ii.>s Chessom wondered, as she had wondered before, if this perfect nouchalence was all a cover lor the passionate heart-paiu which he was striving to conceal. " If so. he acts well," she thought, -and, in any case, be I)ears being jilted with marvelous tortitude ; most men would liave, leaped into a frenzy, and >torraed outrageously," She smiled up brightly at him. "My request shall not be at all an un- reasonable one." she declared sweetly ; though, inwardly, she would not have disrelished saying : "Give me here Mabel "Willoughby's head in a charger," had the prospect of the fulKllment of her request been as probable as was that of the 0(d,e of Iving Herod's birlliday j'cfe. "rromi'-e 1 1 ■111 hs you will ■'.lilt if Mabel ;if the ex- me tha' wil'iiu tlirr-,- I: reiiii n lo T'.viL'keidiiii.:." U'alde:j:n'.ve ^fartei'. weie St il ;i' Maple'vc p'raMon of thar perio i'; n>uailv f •;■ yoioiir i.elie troU.s-e;ill ^oT'''!) lip. a!i tion-" for tliv'ir nnf.'i.:. , rniyht l»e a 20od \\ liiie !•• ioiiyliby became ."'hs he had heard Mr. Ch: previous announcing visiting i'aris in the, iiiomiIi of June wi'h a miiuiier of uciiiieiii' oiers wlio wtre going thilh'.'r ; io d b' ('.fi! Unit time Would he not i\" j'kely lo vvi d his lov(-ly lu'ide. ami take 'wv \\\'Vc llrst on their bridal tour ? Sonictliing clu'ciiei .iiv.igdy at poor Bertram's In [lit .>Niii; . aI tli'? 'thought ; but lie hope;!, uevt-r:!" less, iliat it might be so; for h<.'re sl'.iO'i his iiandsoine cous- in, who was a(*i!.,ll.,' making 'ove to htm. ' ' I lok so lon:r ■ lo liave tlier "liier p re para - . > ' oiii|^!eteil. I' !•• I'M'e .Viss \Vd- ' Im ■.tiTton. I5ut Mon a lew days !" . inrention of up II bound !o iiiak craved. So he d g lilt gallantly 'o tne young hcir^.-.i.s ; to her white, j-we! crossed tlie dr.iwin > i: !:■! I, r.ice. And h." was promise which s;ie ', replyii^ witti ele- llallerinti de?ire of lid loud.ed his lips d hand ; llieii they loom. I\Irs. Chesso;i) ua ..'•peakin:: of her sou as liertram and r, P !i<:ora came over and sa down near tin piano. Lady \Vii)tii:re<l !iad just cased play- ing ihe enliv(.'niiij: (lerinan vr^/.sr ,■ an 1 the l.ostess was .lying to Ladv St. Ay- vas : "Dear Jar*!,'-., tliat charming thing was such an iinmense fiivorite of hi<. He lirst heard :t played by dear Lady Wininrred last aiitumii, and he really seemed quite entranced while listening." "Dear fellow," she added, "I am really growing quite impatient to see him; an«l I am sure I shal n(!ver for.'ive that hor- rid Polsdon for iletaining liim in Walew so iong. Why. he promised me most; faithfully to return by the last of Janu- ary, if not earlier, and this — why, this i.s the eighth of February ; it is quite too bad." Mr. Chessom, whose game of whist with Mv. Chesterton was now termi- nated by the defeat of the former, turned from the whist table, remarking : ' Ahl I had forgotten until just now to tell you something astonishirg, which I heard to-day. I think you will find my bit of news infinitely more surprising and interesting than anything you will be likely to hear at Mrs. Vavasor's kettle-drum." ■■ Your speaking of Wales,' Ill-: ]!A.\n-/:/,-s <n!.\xi>('inLi>}n:x will ilahol : rx- ) loiur t:\».''r ip>ir:>- .1. l'- s Wil- But, V (lay-! on <>r le wi'tJ I W'l. I't' ■j time lovely n iht.'ir :\t poor li!ii;:lit. le (.'OUS- tO 1)1111, he was licli s;)i' i'lih •.'lf- li'.-ire of his lips cii they f her soil ;)vcr and («(1 phiV- St. AV lull thiii^ "of hi<. ur Lady e v«ahy teuinii-" m really lim ; !Ui«l hat hor- 11 Wak« |me most of Janu- y, this is uite too lof whist termi- |r, turned ^t now to which I find my |.u*prislng you will kavasor's |f Wales,' 110 ndiliMl. ndilrcssim: his (!,iii;:lif,('i'-ii!- law, "rcniinds ido of iliy atfair." "Doultt- iess," he coiitiiiiXMl, *' wu all distinctly renicmlji r how suddenly niir nureeMiili' 1,'uest, L.'i.ly Uinlcttf) Ko/Hiitliull. (!('(:i(l6d to lcav<' iH, and visit a frioial at Sn^iw- deu. Well, her l;»dyslii;> went to Wales. Slot, as r hiarn, so pifticulaily to vNit her friend as to seek out a dui:.'hrer \vliom, until the p;ist few weeks, she has believed to have died in early ehildlnod; and this duniiliter of her Lulyship's i> hv a fonii'T niarriaiio, ai)ont which, initil within tlie same limited sp:ire of time, the world hns known no'liin;:;."' Unhonnded astonlsliment was folt and exhil)ited at this vevelation by all. (ilen- corn exclaimed : "Ikeally! a romanee — an out and out, channin;: romunc-e I IIo v d 'lii^htful '. Pray proceed, grandpapa— who was her ladyship's former husbaufl?" "His name, I believe." c.ontiiUKMl Mr. €liesKom, "was Wylde— i;'-;iinaid Wvlde. He was a pliysiciau, and quite poor; and very inucli disfavored by Sir Mont ford AVindham— her ladyship's fatlK-r. Lady Birdr'tta, who was then siniplv Birdet- ta Montfort, was from infancy looked upon as the wife prosp<-ctiveof t;er cous- in Iluffh, who, b''iii:vaii only son. at his father's death succeederi to the latter's wealth and titl ;. The younfr lord—! have a distinct re membrance of him— was Idutf and plain, almost rude in his manners, besides beiuir insnH'erat)ly conceited; in fact, he was anythini; hut a lady's hero; and at •seventeen her ladyship met this youn^ Wylde, who, beinjj: a surgeon as well as a physician, was, upon occasion of tlv^ Jormer sustaininjr a sevca'e accident by bein^ thrown from acarriuire, summoned to attend her. Of course the younit fel- low was nnfortunato enoush to fall in love with the fair Birdetta ; .iiid she, who had been kept somewhat in seclusion all lierlife, returned his alfection fully, and contrasted him with her .vealthy cousin —almost the only youna: ^-entleman whom she had known hitherto— in a manner not exactly flattering to his youthful lordship. In some way or other the baronet got wind of the youni: people's incipient attachment, and was terribly angry. He suspected them of mee'in<r secretly, after having forbidden their meeting under any circumstance, which suspicion it seems was unjust; and, niore angry than ever, he locked his daughter in her apartments. The girl gr^w wea;-y of her iuipri^ori- ment. a'ld tiie strictness of l)i)iii l>.'r parent and "(lianced, and after a w'.iilo, escaping, ehipi'd with young WU 'e. They wi.'re married secretly, and \V"n% im;!ie(li;i!cly to (iernniiy. 'Th'? voung man, I believe, was of Kncrli.-di and (J-r- inau parenta'/e. 'i'iu' atfiur was not; allowed to irain tlie least publii-!*v; it; was iiiven out by the baronet hi!u>.e!f That hi^ dau'ihter had goi'.e to m:ii;e n long visit with relatives in the south M 1-' ranee ; and when, a few weeks later. Sir Mjntfort and his lu'pliew left Kniiliiid in search of the fiigitives, no one so much as susjiected tiieirei'r.ind. I For tivt! years, I am told, tlieir s^virc'i ! proved unavailin;; ; but oiio day at L'V- d"n t!ie youn:.'- lord was taken sudd'jii:y I ill. and a phv^ici lu was sent for. I Doctor Wyldt! came, and tin.' baronet, j IIS well as his nephew, at once recogni/.ed iiim. It seems, however, t'lat t!ie reeoj;- I nition was not mutual : Wylde had iio I concepti.tin of wlio lifs patient was ; t)r j that llubert Kcjso— that was the namtj under which his lordsiiip travell-d— was 1 his old rival. L'ini Kozeutha!! rapi^'.ly recov-^re !, and mauau'cd not to lose" sight of nis c<n;sin's husl)aiid. One day, in pnijii ;, his Icrdship took occasion to insiilr -h; young physiiian, whort-j^lied by ('asin-jg in the face of ih(! former a iila^.s of wim'. Of course, a duel was x.\\r upshot ofthrf air.iir; and his lordsliio, w';o was a fim; swordsman, succeeded in mortally wound- '\W'z Ills au'auoid- 1. Mrs. Wylde was then visited by her father and cousin, who informed her of their resolve to trd<e her back to K-ig- laud. Iler ladyship was (pritt! passive, I am told, seeming to have sunk in:o a state of almost imbecility. She must have sulfi.'n d iTuelly, being dou'tly bereaved, for her eldest child, a boy of four ye;irs, was also taken frous he;-, dyin:;: saddenly on t!ie very niiih'^ tliat her husband was killed. Her re- maiiiing child, a little girl. Sir Montfort brought with them on their return t'j Knghind, scarcely knowing how to dis- pos.' of it at the time. After her return to England Mrs. Wyl.lc was ttikeu terribly ill, and foi- many weeks was not expected to survive froiri one hour to another. She recovered, however, and was info-rmed by her father tliat her litth; girl had diej li Ml 77//; /;.! .vh'h'/rs (iLWXDVuii.hUKX. 11 i m 1.4 tluriiii,' her illiiofs. Slic rcceiveil the iiitellig(?uce willioul tlic slightest out- ward signs of emotion, niurely inqiiir- iii:; where the cliiltl was interred. She was shown a mound somiiwhere in a ^ccludfd part of tlie grounds. Tliis grave, over whicli her lady>.liip has spent .•"O manj lionrs ol' agony, is now believed to be an artificial onu ; at all events, her ladyship will as soon as possible have this proven by causing it to be opened. His lordship still desired wedding his cousin, and so the marriage was consuni- niatcd something Iil;e a year after Lady Birdetta's return to England. Iler ladyship's daughter, I am told, was trtl<cn to Wales and placed In care of an old woman who had once been a ser- vant, in Sir Moutlbrt's household, and then lived something like a mile or two from Cwymdaron— the little town in wliich Charlie Polsdon met with the accident that detained him there for so many days, last autumn. The little girl is now nearly or quite fifteen years of age, and all re(|uisite proofs of her iden- tity have been obtained. Sir Carter Daneslea, who was my iniormant, was told the whole story by Lady Birdetta herself. Her ladyship is just arrived in London. lu a day or two, doubtless, we .shall have a minute account of the affair in the London papers, with facts, proofs and embellishments," concluded Mr. Chessom. " Poor Lady Birdetta," said Lady "Win- iiifred to Mabel ; '• what a sad story." Mabel replied sorrowfully : *' Sad, indeed. What terrible torture all tliose years have been to her." ''(»h, dear me; it was dreadful, of course," said Miss Chessom, in reply to the sympathetic remarks uttered by Lady St. Ayvas, and the former's mother: "and it's no wonder her ladyship became a stiff petrifaction ; 1 think I should have gone mad. But this young girl, her lady ship's daughter," she added, " has she not been brought up very rudely among the boorish peasantry ot Wales ? " Doubtless," responded her grand- father: " but two or three years of Pa- risian education and accomplishments will be certain to efl'ace all traces of hoy- deuism." Cileucora shrugged lier shoulders. "If 1 were in her ladyship's place I .should be careful that the world saw her not, until after the, refining process bad been gone through with," she said with a laugh. "The little girl is very beautiful, SI; Carter Informs me," said Mr. Chessom. '' and, he declares, iiitlnltoly more grace- ful In mimner than are many of the daugh- ters of our aristocracy at that awkwariJ age.'' place. Then she CILVPTKK .\.\\l. Our liiinils have niPt, l)ut not our hearts ; <'ur liiiii'ls wil' ne\ cr nici't iiKain. rriiMpls. if wi' have ev«>v Ihimi, I'Vienils we ('aniidt now remiiin. I iiiily know I lovi'.l .Miu oiiii'. I (iiily know I lnvi>il in Viiin ; 0(0- Imiiils liavf iiu't. l.iif in.t (>:ir hcntt- ; Uiir luuuls will nov^ r uit'i.'t :i!ia n. — Tll<tiiliiH llniid. It were dlfllcult to say which strove- most heroically to ap;M»:ir unconcernei: and indifferent to each othm- that night, ^fabel or Bertram. Both succeeded, however, the only fault being that the uuconcernedness of each was just a li'Alc too perfect. As Waldegrave found it necessary to start at an early hour on the morning en- suing, good-by's were said that night before the hour for retiring. Mabel had at first rrsolved to excuse herself, on the plea of weariness, and sli| away from the drawing-room liefore that ordeal should take thought, proudly :* " No, for he will tliii .c that I have gone l)ecause 1 have not courage to remain. He shall see ; he shall believe that I do not care enough to do anything but de- spise him. Oh I how cruel— how base and cruel he is I'" " And so we must bid good-bye to yois to-night, dear Bertram," said Mrs. Ches som; "we are very sorry to lose you.'' Mrs. Chessom spoke the truth; she was exceeding sorry tliat Waldegrave was about to depart. For many years- she had been scheming for an alliance between this rich young heir of the aris- tocratic Waldegrave's of Falmouth aui.'. her daughter, when they should have be- come old enough for a union. Now that the time had arrived this determination became fixed in the lady's mind. It is needless to tell our readers that Mrs. Chessom had felt a vague terror of their r.ch colonial guest ever since his first appearance at Maple wood. This terror, she endeavored to assure herself, was but mere silliness. Again and again she told herself that Lancelot Chesterton was not— could not be — Leigh Chessom, her step-sister's hus- band; the man whose dead wife's place 77//; HA \h'i:irs ai,\ i xiwuil dukx. 1, sir ssora, ;r{\ce- kwnril rt.^; IT t ji ; Strove icernei! nisht, reeded, tiat the , a. li-Alc sary tu ling eu- it night excuse and slii 'ore that en she vo gone remain, lat I do but de- )W base e to you s. Ches e you." th ; she idegrave \\y years- alliance ;he aris- ith an«.'. liave be- ow that ination brs that jrror of ince hi& assure Again tiancelot >t be— hus- [s place •<;"ie had wlelioilly usurped, wlioso child- 1 ren's name iind rii:hts her o\vi> son and i laughter wciv enjoying'. No. no. it I L'ould not he. Lv-iijli was surely dead. I If he were livin;;, ami tliis was he, would I he not liave revealed his identity l)of(»re I this? U was a very common ihini,' fori people to resemble other people to whom] tiiey were not at all relative; and after nil there was iiorliin;; wonderful in the i fact that :Mr. Clirsterton was much like j what sh«! tlio;i:,'lit i/>i<{h would iiave b -en ; had he lived t*. In; Hv((-and-fort,y years of I •age, with his dark chestnut liair '.,M-own iust a ]>eree|>tihle s!i;ulc darker, and I threaded here and tliere with silver. | Anil yet. af:er all this very sound rea- 1 •soniuff, Mrs. Chessom's mind was far' from l)eing at ease. Sl)e had mano'U- ' vared hiu-d, of late, to l)ring aixiut tills alliance Itetween the son of Mr. Ches- j som's niece and her fair daughter; had | treated Mahel, t!ie real heiress, with' marked coldness, because she saw that, Waldegrave nas falling— if he, indeed,! iiad not already lallen— in love with lier ' " 81ie shall not remain here another' week," declared the angry lady mentally, not more than two hours previous to Waldegrave's announcement of his pro- j jected leave of Twickenham. "She shall go l)ack to Aml)lcside, or anywhere, so long as she is too far away for meddling. Bertram luitst wed Glen- •oora. She is so beautiful; surety he soon must learn to love her ; and this childish May, for whom he seems to have taken a foolish, fleeting fancy, she shall be re- moved, and he will speedily forget her, and be able to discover that he Im-cs— not merely fancies— my daughter. And then, afrer they are ben-otheil. whatever hap- pens, Bertram will be too honorable to ignore her. And Jarvis— Oh I why does he not re- turn and wed I/nly Winnifred ? They are poor now; hut old Colonel FairleJL'h ■will die some day, I suppose, and then they will be e#rialied : and if anything occurs"— Mrs. Chessom shiveretl ner- vously—" it will be for the credit of .ill to have the afl'air blazoned «s little as possible. If tliis Mr. Chesterton be reallv Grace's husband returned from the dead, ■why does he not reveal himseif ? But Heaven grant that during the delay — whatever it be for— I may see my ehil- drcn advantnireously wedded; and tlien, I think, I could bear the rest." Thus ran Mrs. Chessom's thoughts while gracefully doing the duties of hostess at dinner that evening; and now, at tile thought of his departing— not to r(!turn for at least months— her heart s;iuk Ml voluntarily within hor. "Huteousin Bertram lias promised to visit Us ay;aiii in, at least, three months,'' exclaimed (ilencora gaily ; " and, assured of that, we shall not Ijinguish during the int-rlm." * Indeed," said lier mamma, smiling; "t'len I am sure we shall wait with im- patience the elapse of that time." Inwardly her heart whispered porteu- tiouslv — " Three months, oh ! what dire- ful things may not occur long ere their expiration ?" Waldeijrave shook liands all arouni ; to avoiil b^iii:; noticed by others, lie even condescended to touch his linger tips t<> tlie hand which Mr. Chesterton cordially extended toward him; liut his manner was so chilling that that ircntleman drew b?.ck in indignant astonishiiumt, and ex- pressed no regret at parting. Lady \Viniiifred's farewell to him was formal and (|uite coid. She wasipiite convineed that lie was acting dishonorable toward Mabel, and just now, lie was very much lowered in her, IilMierLo, really hlgli [ opinion of him. Miss Chessom's iusti ' perceptible smile was hidden l)ehind her filmy handkerchief, as Waldgrave, havitig ' shaken hands with all the rest, stepped ' toward Mabel, sayinir : ' '-Good-bye, Miss Willoughby." j " If she would only faint, or do somo- ' thing e(iually absurd and ridiculous now,"' thought the amiable (ilencora; l)ut she ' was somewhat surprised, though searc<dy I more so than vvas Mattel herself, at the hitter's calm, icy demeanor. Waldegrave spoke and extended his I hand with cold, haughty constraint. Mabel, appearinir not to notice the outstretched hand of \h'V Jlanre<;, lier own hands wen; full of the sheets of music which she was arranfrinir, simply replied, ■ in a voice of coul Indiflerence : '• Good-night and good-by, Mr. Walde- grave." Then she turned, with a smile that was iieroically bright, toward Mr. Chesterton, remarking serenely — '• -Ah, here is the brilliant song which you so much admire, ' Ksmeralda,' and ' you- favorite sonata — that lovely thinir of Iiaydn's eouiposition. The latter F will play for you toiiioi;rovv : but Lady Winnifred can do ' KsinenVtla ' much bet- lor justice. 1 tlunk." and siie turned to- ward the latter, saying: 7S THE r>.\XKEir>i CRAXDCIIILDUEX |i ' I m r- "Yon sin:,' this fashionable song di- 1 thoivi^li Imr brother's supposed crime hn(r vii;ely, I.udy "WinuilVecl ; you will I'livor sniiiied their name, yet, in his h.'iirr, tiie lis all. will yoii not, Ijy sinjjiug it to-rnoc- , biisikm- could not re.arct tli;ir. Iiis lian.i- rowior" — for [)apa, she vvas about to , some youi);;' relative lovml the orphaii li.iV(? stijil, but adde i, with a l)hish — .stopp»jd herself and ; suHiciei.tly to one day niaice lu-r ins brid' and thus insure her proti-cjiio'i IVoiii tlie- L F<>r -Mr. Chesterton, in my stead! eohl ^ii.inces ami 1 )OllI(.' ordi'd iiisu' Kiy \Viiini;Ved smitin^ly, assented, wliieh the uiToizaut :uid uiiriteiiiii,' in tlieir addiiii; — '• And yet, 1 dare siiy, Mr. dies- j cin^le b('st.o^v.Ml ttvton will (h'em my rendering of it less] pulisin-d iasoleuee upun iier wich sucli excellent than your own, ]\Iay. J!>Ir. Ciieslert^ni smiled. I Of Ivuiest's ilislionor Mr. Clu'ssom I W(udd fain !iave kept llie worlil in lienor- " Impossible, your ladyship," he said; , anee, bat l;is irrand-ilauirhter ind -.dvoft your singing is not less excellent than , the storv full circulation ; and the bank- s ck'rk w;is rt'uarileil tiie lianker .>* tuiythinir; there is in your voice such Vii^r (ompass, such ring and sparkle, and | frh/nds as a mo>t di>l;ouorai>l • and l)!isely witli.il sucii power and sweetness that a, unicrati'ful youtli: and tli ■ cold shoulder was turned very releuilessly upon his sister. Mil-; voic'! would be diilicult to •SM, Aiay IS riui;' lie luhietl. in her oi'inloii !'iat yoii >iii^- witli more striking eticct .-ucii l)i'dii:iMt soi;us as this," point- j iug to ihc riciiiv illustrated sheet of mu- CILAl'TKi; XXXII. .sic wnich Niai)t..i hcd ; I here is not the r f-l/li.-ador ia her voice whicii ch.U'acterizes \ouv own and vet. Mav s voice IS so L'ln all .1 n ')nr i'ortiiiu'.-j nii'L't u.- ur live- <[ in th(' 'h- ■l),:i,i We will now return to Ei'uest Wil- clear and sweet, and so perfectly adapted ; lougl i)y and his friend Fairleigh. The to the caroling of those simpler, yet injue latter found Ernest in London, whe-e he the less sweet liems of song, that it were ditlieult, after all, to deciile by which of yoi; one is most cIkuuuhI and delighted." Thus chatteil those three, and then general good-nights were exchanged and the lionsehold reiiied for the night. was busy with preparations for his jour- ney to C:inada. " i5y Jove I" Ilarvey exclaimed, ''of course you're in a scrape, and all that; hut you'll come out all right in the end. I'm sure of it: innocence always does ;.. [sir. riivssom was pu/.zled, even dis- j umi this journey of which you're talking pleased, tiiut two of his most lionored t is a deu''edly pioasant thing to coutem-- guests — Lady St. Ayvas' beautil'ul and j plate. What do you say to a coy/i^Ja^ii"/? charniin:;' daughter, and Mi. C^lK.'sterton </< '■".'/«.'/'' •'' " — for wlioin t!ie banker's feelinirs were 'I'nat 1 shall be ileji:;hted, if vou in- those of warm, fast-growinii friendship— | rend becoming my lullovv traveller; will .should so coli.Hy and iudilferently part i you go ':"' with ins agreeable and entertainins; j >larvey nodded . "If the pater's agree- nephew and guest, IJertram Waldegrave. , able, yes,"' he said. The banker had not perceived that the i " Have you business which will detail: Coldness between Waldegrave and Ches- ; yeu here much longer'"'' impiin-d ne. lerton was the fault of tiie former; but j No, nothing of mom* nt, ' Ernest rc- he had reiaarketl how Irlnidly their linger- 1 plied. tips had met, and that Mr. Chestertou- Tiioa suppose you accompany mo to tiiough Bertram had contributed much to j Lancaster, and our united persuasions tl e entertaiuiueiit a ad I )leas lire of all— I will bo the more successful in getting a cij'ied not 1 lie smallest reuret at losing , eouseut from my worthy progerdtor 'r him. tlionuh they iiad sceaiinyly retrarded N\'e shall have plentv of time foy a day each otlier in a nriuner most friendly ; or two's stay at Kairleigh liouse before hitherto. j gt»iug to Liverpool.'" 'I'heii tlu- cool formality of liajy Wiu-| To this anangemei.t Ernest, after a iiified — and Mabel — Mr. t'liessom was liioment's deiibr" n'ion, atnuiescei and reuliy juinoyed at what he afterward de- j on the morniuir ensuing the young men clart'i! to his .'ro^cz/ewas absolute rude- stsirteil for Lancaster, liarvev rattled and talkeil on, .ifter hi- Usual gay lash- ion, vlurliu' the jouniev . "Don't look doleful, man alive," he Mr. (,'iiessoiu w.ts verv certain, and ' exclaiineil, aftci- several lueffcctualclfort'*- uess on lier part. That his nephew regarded May with (eeiings of more i.iian ordinary friendship Tiir: BA xKi-Jirs a in xncnfLfh' kx. 79 )es wiui: H"}t 111- 'vee- btuii: re- k' to lions ioi" ': day It'oru lor :» and linen ttloil as h- he brt- to dispel Ki-ncst'.s moodiness by his own merry nonsense. "lt'3 a confonndedly scaly triclv tliey'vo played you, old boy ■ bnt I've a son of premonition that, in the end of it, ail will tnru out nobly. You'll anniss a pile in Canada, or some rirh old ch:ip— like my uncle Fairleigh, for instance — he has l)romise(l a ( lumsy, .-icnibby ol:! wiitini: tlesk as his lejracy to uie; bnt: ii's a curi- ous old att'air, for which I always had a sort oradmii-aiion, and its ul:ier than any hill in the viciniiy : served a« :i cabinet for a certain aiiccsfor of niiiiH oiuinii,' the conquest, said nn.cstor bfinii di^tin- ^yuished f'jr a niiirvelons ;im'}'i;!r of what my father dc-si'.;nati'.s prid" ati(t wai'iike bi'.-ivery ; l>i;r, by nl! I learn of the i. vi-r- » (1 indiviitii..!, hi ^ vatinied pri'lo \v;is uiiieh lilce arronan.f?, and his br:iv,.>;y ;mot!ier name for a ^ort ot' nii;eiks.> !i..reeness ; ))ut, iiow(.'V.r, hi • \vi'itiriii-d<.'>k '.-vt'ii'.ually will desceml to me IVom a;;c!e, and uncle's fMriiiUe ^■o."^. I --upp''-; ■. to Aunt St. Ayvas i\]\(\ coii-iu WiiiiidViJ. lint I haven't the -li^hic-t, doubt t!:;-' von'Jl hv rU'li as Creo^n-. sonic ot ilic^i' i;;i\ s . and, thou.^^h you don't hciiev" it. I can po.^i- lively tull fortunes 'iipitiliy <•■: e.ird<; and remembiu' wh'if 1 told you tumn, thiit you wcii- to lie \vi,';i lionored, and famous, and a!i :, it, before you were many yi'.is cildin*. ten consecutive minutes lu the course (.if eaeii il;iy. Ilarvcy'?. fliree sisters, Aiinace, Blanche and Ada, were lively, <;ood-na- tured demoist'lles, w'lo took pains to a-.si>l in rendering the visit ol their brother's friend an agreeable one, and to make him, for the time, at least, forget- ful of tlie painful evtuus of ttie jiast fow wc(.'k-«. It 1> the evening of the fourth dav • inee Krncst' arriv il ."t Lancaster a si au- I'y, and i-.'s •■ <d it will all (•ome out corr.-c or 1 n a niufi'and no ni'oi)licr. I .;:an to sav you'll niake u fortune in ("'.imei i, (jr some- body '11 will ", oil a Cii'Tlt vvfilih to keep it up. or soni; vill Mii; l;..'..Npi.'C ted as tortuiiatt; OCeU'; I •) V. WW for the [ir-.'seiu diilhadMe fate."' ends iS .sure :is whereof we write. All liia;, uay, Lj'iiesthad felt more than usu.aliy depressed ami ilisheartened ; bat hit >• I V,' to sarmount the feeling, and appi'ar -d so ".ively and agreeable that the Mi>.'>es FairKJuli were deceived into ihe lie'uf tliiit ilicir handsome guest wonl.', a^ liiirvcy expressed it, "'get all over this soreness in a lew days.'' The dim shi'low of twilight was set- tling, with slowly increasing deepness over the eai'th. when Willoughby escaped from the drawing-room out ui.Jer a great shuLlowj portico, and sat down 'viih a loiig drawn I.reath, looking out aiislractedly at the dim. gray gardens where a few crocuses slept Mt'ter having •iweped lorth all day, tellii g of rapidly approaclioig .spring. It was the evening of the 2S;;h of Feb- ruary, and on the- mxt morniiiij; Kruest and Harvty were to siai't for Liverpool, from wlience the vessel bound for Can- ada was shortly to sail. A few short days and he should leave Kniilanil forever. forever \ strong pang smote his heari t at; l!ie tiiouglit. The beauiifnl fice -pale anil sorro vfiil a.'i he liad seen it Erne.st -irniled ano • -U'l a.-o'-> li to b;; I Pa^t— of Lady Winnilred rose up bi-lort himself, an! to shnke ott .is iiiiieli as [ |,ii,i. Ih^u like sitddi^st. sweetest musie pos.sib.e lii-i gloom am! alistiMcMiu. her hi.st, uu.-tini: '.voids still .sounded iu The society of Ins i;-iv companion wa.> i hi.-> (^•ll••^ •niivening, joid hv ilic Mnie they r» a iied ( i;. : i.e wouhi L'Uicaster and Fidrl i.,h llor.-- -. ll.nvey, with nuicii s^iiistiiii n. .ecla.ed iiuile metaaiorpho-: d irom hearted, uhnuTuly moi oe y jiv;- worlds to si;e her IU lin — to hold li(;r au lin in his arms for hi.n ; ,-; one briei' ::!oi!U'ir. down- . ' [ lu-re wa.s a footstep, -oid I-iviesf, .urn- fello V ' r.i ;i< ;i .seiVMiit wlio luid been s jirehing whom he had songhi, uur in .Sidio Sipnir-'. - for him a()proached bringing v itli him ."i 'I'f.ere were tiTT'^s, lliou:ih, v/heii Kr- ; teli'gram which, wi h a bow, he present- nest would h.Tvv giver, much to escape fil to his master's jin>'St. for a lew hours from the society of those \i was ft'oiu Twickenham, and ran a.>» irenial frieu.ls, the ;in;ia'es urieigii loliow.s Jio ise, and to be :don". for a season, I Wi'Ai his own nio'.;'i •' nly '>rooding thoughts. P.iit it \va« b "ter tiiat th« Jndgi! iul Ids 'jay rumoy so -n^.rjss. d Ids time ami alteniii^i iinriuij Ir.s ^tHy as scarcely to gr.int 1;;mi le-tnrn to Maplt.wood without fail and at once ,\il i.s cleared up. rinr.i.u' Cui".s.sf>.M. ,iiikl •pace i )t Enu sal iKil St re;id it twice, thrice, and th'iu ii;i/."j iiiid ti.;Vv;:.!ered tor seveiMl. --JM- 80 TiiK HA XKKir^ ah' A M>cn!LUi;i:x. Ri.l I' '!( minutes. FicyeDtly Jlarvy caiiio hi search of him. seat i(v a uiiulo^v tUal over'iooked tlie bare, tliin (U)|)s(' of maples, ami drew Oh. here .you are,' h :■ exclaimed, as about him l!ie crimson t'uLds oi' ttie heavy he came surideiily upon hill) ; '•out what on earth's liie matter, ma;;? — "vhat's happened?" " Harvey, I am not going to (,';ina(U ai'tpvall?"" Harvey lieard tliis reply, and gave :'. stare and a lonu whistle. " The — d^use you're n')tr" hr; (|U''ried ; and why this sudden chaaize. my friend?"' For reply Ernest gnvj him the tele- gram. liarvey read it twice over and tiien exhibited hisiieliirht l)y giving his friend';' | hand a tremen(hins shaking. " Didn'i I tel! yoa so?" lie cri<d. '• I ] knew you'd come i^ut all rizlit at:cr al ; | but 1 wonder, won't tlu-y feel somewhat,! a.shamed of liaviiig accused an hoeest man ol committing a tn<d'i? Bv .livel' I've a mind to return with you ; I'm in a | Utrecht velvet draperies. H;' rested his Ijead upoii his hand, and loi k d out moodily with a sigh upon i.he moonlit , scene before hitu. I il.ilf !M! hour pn^.sed, and still the yoiin:: man sat, hi> p.ile \'.\ce vviiiter, I icloomier Mian ever m the palid glory of th'! moonKght. At leni:''i a ligiit noise in the corridor arrtjsted h, ■ atteuticu, and he determined to listen. Two litrle white hands iiarted the rtowinu' curtains, ami Mabel, his ')e- tlirotlii'il. stood befori' him. Maiu'l. ('n\ eloped in a white cashmere dre>sing g'lwii, with her golden hair floatiru: over iiv- shoidder-. and her swee;. I'lcc spirit like in it.«, jnire palor. ''M.ibi!:" «' Mr. Waldegrave !"' burst siiniiltan- hurry to hear what explaiiiition Mr. eously from the !ip.> (jt those most oddly estr;iuged Ches.«om will oflfer " Come back with me, bv all im^ans, Ernest urge", "since we are not <roin:r i tied : l>iit • to Canada together, at least, not | and uneon lOvers. TIk' fiirmer tiini'Ml. and woidd havi- sudden inlpu'.^e, iuvoUintary rolal)le. induced her fiancee to spring fr.ward, detaining her by laying his hand upon h':r arm. Those two pale, (jxcited faces silently c<<'.ifrouted each other lt>r a moment, and then, in lov*', >uppresMd tones, full speedily,'' "• Too bud, al'ogethertoo liad !" growl- ed Harvey with a sort of momentary ruefulness. '-Just diinkof the amount of eloquence \\iiirh it took to convince the fraier that, in the present Icpiessed 1 of anger and paiu. Bertram spoke state of finances, he could afibrd, and j lie repr'inched lu r, calling her crnid, really ought to offer no remonstrances ; heartles-«, '.'.ilse. against what he termed my whim, mere i Keproaclies from his lips! how dared whhn, of spending a year or two in i he utter words like tho.'^e to her? What Canada; and now its all np— ugh I" i ell'ronterv lie possessed. " Never mind, Harvey." soothed Earn- 1 Slie vvitiidrew the beautit'ul be'rothal est; "after all, v^e may go to Canada in ring, witli Us ex(|Uisiie >rtting oi pearl a month or so."' I'oor Earnest, within the last r^w moments, had grown to take a far more and diamond from her finger, remark- ing with a (;uiet ^corn that maddened him : " Vour ting. Mr. Waldegrave," ex- tendiiii: i' toward him; "I purposed sending it \o yon by one of the servants in the mo' niiii:. '' He lie>:r,ited, luul, hendiiig forward, she laid i'.;e f\-iuble on tiie window-sill, " Adioi;. ;Mr. Walde^irave. I wisn you all the future happiness and success Wc will now return to the ni::ht on j which yoi merit," she said. She turned, which Bertram bade adieu to the Chessom ' but aijain Lr' stayed her. household. "Mabel, there i,s — there must be— a It was late, past twelve o'clock, and mistake. Oh! Mabel — " but lie was yet the banker's nephew fonnd it ini- ' fiercely, haughtily checked, possible to sleep; indeed, he didn'tgo to j " Ixelease iiic, sir, instantly,'' she ex- bed at all, but wandered from his claim- i claimed : "how dare you? Yes, there ber after a while, out into one oi the | lias been a mistake: I was credulous luug himself into a enough to believe you— to trust you as 1 liopefui view of things. It was ail cb-ar- '\; up — this horri!)le atl'air id' tlie stolen six hundred pounds, so .said that brief telegram; and there was something now worth living and striving for. CHAP'JEK XXXIII. great corridors, and THE liA XKinrs (JJLi XJ>CJH I.DUKX. SI thf be- (» 111 ill pearl laik- lencd Ml'll, you |<.'ess ln(-'(l, le— !i Iwas t'X- lieiv lions as 1 ■wou'd trust a man of honour. It was I IhappiuLs^, a proud name and weultli who was inistakon.'' Ajrain he essayed to speak, sayinij; ex- citedly : came to her. " But wliv need I care herself, jjazin^ at her lair r she asked •flection in "Mabel, explain for the love of heaven ' the silver-frosted mirror "They are all — there is a mistake." | so cruel, so seltish ; would they pity me But she swept away from iiim witii a were the tables turned? No, indeed, ■scornful jjesture; and Bertram, in tlie | And this woman— this step-sister of my €xce.'.s of his aniior, ^nat^hed up from i mother, havina; stolen my bro'.lier's birth- the window sill tlie lovely little rinir i ri<riit and mine, that hcv own son and which he had placed on Mabel's ilni:er. ; dauyhter niiyht possess them, could she as a pleilije of their troth tti it nifjht, and not, at least, have treateil the two whom Anna: it from him. It struck one of the | she had so deeply wronged with justice in other matters ? But how true it is that we always hate those whom u j have injured. Was it not her suspicions, subtly worded, which first induced my <frandfaih''r to clii'rish doubts of Krnest's honor? Yes, and wliy should 1 grieve for the (!ovvnfa;i of a trio so cruel, so utterly, entirely selfish and heartless. Even Jarvis. 'it whom, for all his wild- 1 ness and frivol;)i;siies<, I had b(;lieved ))et- } ter tliiuizs, is cowardly enoiigh to allow a I good, liouorable man to sutler tor a crime ! which he has liimself committed ; and walls far down the corridor, and Mabel heard its sharp ring as she laid her hand on the handlo ot tlie door which led to her own little suite of apartments. She had been grieved and ilecpiy offended by lu r lover's seeminiily extra- ordinary and dishonorable conduct ; but this audacious piece of acting vvas an add.'Mon of^insnlt to what was already insult and injury com!)ined. Unable to sleep, she had left her cham- 'ber arul souglit the bow window in the ■coi'ridor. all unc(jnscious that its velvet i,'i.shioiied seat held another restless I yet, someiiow. tins seems to me nidike i ■.cupant. She Would have surrendered j.Iarvis. Vv'lio knows but that lie mav not all the Titian gold curls that rippled , have received gr-.mdpapa's letter contain- over her shoulders not to liave had this j ing the information of Hrnesfs (.llsmissal iv'tf'intrc taken ph.ce. He — th's false j from Maplewood ?"' lover of hers— would know irh'j she was j And wh.ile Mabel, with a vengeful feel- wandering restlessly about at this hour; ; ing, unusual in her loving, gentle little and so base, so contemptible was he i heart, now so full of pain and bitter dis- ■she thought, '.hat he would triumidi. j appointment and distrust that it wa.s " I'apa, dear papa,"' slie murmured, | growing for the time hard auvt univ'Ving, with hot tears of pain and indignation I triumphed in tiie knowledge that u dis- Viliuding her, as she reachcil her chain- j closure was sjieedily coming which vrould ber and threw herself again upon her canst; Bertram Waldegrav^, who was fter •couch; "if only you knew bow barely j cousin. /e-' Gleticora's. to be dunibtt-und- your little girl has been deceived by tiie cnan vou so highly esteem. ed and a>ham(;d ; which would l>ring the frivolous votaries of fashion and weiith. She dashed away the burning drops, , who now politely snubbed or ignored lud rising crossed over to her ttright, ' her, ilutterinjj around her, which would gracefully drained mirror bring i| V jie retinue of wealthv suitors Thank iK'aven!" she exclaimed proud- , to iiei- j-ct. paying her court anil ready Iv. "mv turn to triumph will come nexr,. to ruler her wealtli uncounted and cor- What'ulll you s;;y, Hertram WaKle- (Uiets innumerable; ami >iie thought grave, when you learn that you hive eoutemptuou^lv : I'erhaps nertrain would 4ieceived, insuUed— not vour uncle's h.ive the audacity to come, nietampliori- humblc protege, but his grand daughter, cilly. to tier fe<-t again. She smiled r,ud a far riclier heiress than you have bitteiiy. If so, she wyukl laugh hiin to believed haughtv, heartless Cileucora to , scorn. ,»^e." " ' N\ hlle al! this was passing- through lier i'nti! now M bel had never tlionght of aching heart and throbbing, winrling •♦he ureat triumph, which in a day or two brain. Bertram, having gone back to hi.s >would be hers, as a triumph. Indeed, chauilier. |>aced savagely to and fro she had felt very sorry for liie pain and Itu-re, bait' beside himself with pain and sham e, h j.vever wc merited, that must anger. Tor a niomon., looking into the come to the woman who had passed as pure face of Ids betrothed, as slie con- her father's wife and iHTciiildre;;, when frontcl him. In the soft mooidiglii -that ,1 1* 82 TiiH n.wKK/rs (;::.\:<i>c!iiLi>i!!':x. i'ace so full of reproach ; the clear eyes so nhile tlie inotl)or thus tlre;iinei.l, lier iuiiocent, willi Midi (lci)th.s of fiuiet daughter paced hei- eli'*inber, or tossed o;i >c<)ru hjokiiiii' up at hiui from beneath her pillow, and imiriuiired angrily the their j^fjUieii brown la.shes, he had felt name of the i^iri wii.i.se ijlaee t^he had incliiu/d to discredit his own senses to unconsciously usiirprd. believe tha: tliere was some mistake, ' whieii she could explain. l>ut he told , himself now tliat he was an alter idiot to ' tiu>t her again for a sinule moment. All ', this anger, these reproaehlnl glances | It is a long time? since wo have wriKeu were a!l'ected ; she was a most eon- m word of Jarvis T.^liessom, whom we will sunii'.Kite aetre>s. IIow cnnl,l >[w. Ilnd an ; now call Jarvis Vi'illou^hljy and his pro. e.\eu.«e tur leeeiviug the kiss's and em- ' tege. Birdie U'ylde. braces wiiieh with his owiie\es he had i Jarvis reached Wales and the little seen Chesterton besto\\iii;>: up )n her ? | town of Cwmd.ar^.i after a tiresf)mely Cli.l^TKIt XXXIV A KL'I.T. COM'ESSIU.N, How could sliu— his proaiist'd wife? liati either CMiifi^-td to the oiher hi> voni:h journey. Iv ladei he Allo'iether "loo deused- ifier»vai ds informed his jr her falsei; am 1 pfiitenec. the pro- I ti ic;;d l\>l>iloi:., lo.coiiiiiiiie his journey bability i.-> Vawi the oiher"s forgiveness wonid have bi^-n liivcii : tiioiigii all Ihoiiglit ol'lovi; and liitir l)ricf butrotlial must have hreii, in (■oi.sc(|iieiice, lelin- fjuiiheil ; l)ur this tvid'Mit acting on the part of caeh was alike maddening tc; oaoh. Were ever two hea:\s more deceived m each other ? At iMaplewood House that ni^ht, a^ for ! jnany previous nights, there were others | than the estrauged lovers who found it j impossible to s^leep. listless hours and i disturbetl dreams visiieil the banker! oftener of la;e than htal-hful I'eposc | It is iiueilless to add that it uas chiilly dreams of JOruest whieii worried him. Sometimes he dreamed lliat he was on ' shipboard, and in a moment of anger, j had Hung Ids cleik overboard into the ' esl;d)li>hmeut •'Liou" for a to tin.' la'te-'s b leheior wiihout Sio,>|)'.;ig at tli< ffW days r^s . Oil r"aehii!g tin' above mentioneii esr.djlisiimeiit iifar nigaf.-fall of oue ' blustery winter day he was shown into ; the parlour who^ir dinginess reminded I him familiarly oi his former vi-it, and tht ! landlord and Ids wil'ii wi're as otld — ! "odder,' Jarvis d clarei.l, than ever. Supper gotten wv in a style more elab- orate than was orciiiiariiy alfoidt.'d at the little inn, was placed beh)re our traveller: anil after doing jusvicc that was ample to the carefully piepai'i'd viands he jounced I'or a ffW hours l)efoi>- t lie l)la//mg tire, smoking, reai.ling and solihjqui/ing alter- nately. '• 1 will go over to the cottairo to-mor- row morning, that is, if I don't happen surging ocean : and later, when looking to lie in beti uniil noon," lie thought, remor.-sefully over inro the waves, two! "Won't Birdie's biiL^hr, (!ye.s dance white, acusing faces looketl up at him Ironi out of the spray — two faei.'s nearly alike: Init onu was tiie face oi Ids clerk and iho other that of his longdost son Leigl; : and each reproached him as tlieir destroyer. Mrs. Willoughliy as we shall hence- wlien si e beholds :i e l!;i 8 uuexpectedly. How siiiuiilai-ly l)iaiitiful .•'he Is ; aud if siie is nj'iUij her iadysliii>"s daughter what a seiisaiion there wiU be ainong her ladyships friend.-;. By jovt-! there (Mi^htto De a romaiKM^ at tlic end of the :ilfair. What if I, wholirst discovered the forUi designate the lady wlio has m) long hn-ely waif, sliouid bi; mad enougli to fall passed as the widow oi' the barda-r's soi , in h-ne with lu-r ':' I cau see those calm,, was visitetl !)y dreams scarcely more re- dark eyes of I..;dy Birditta's fairly dilat- freshing. At times she was liyiug over | ing at. a pioposal of aiiyihing so prepito- rocks and through muddy pools— tleeing ^ terous ; and who could l)lime!ii'r. Her from Leigh Cliessom, or .\Jr. Chesterton, i ladyship woiill iu'\er ooUseut to her who had assumed uigantiv' pvopcrtions, d.auul'.ter's wedduii:' a scapegr'ice like :iiid was savagely [lursning her. .At others she fiincieil he had captured her and was aliout tlinging his victim over a j awning precipice where, far below, hh(> could see and hear horrid inky watei' i)iii(b!iiig and .seething furif)usly ; and wlit-re he hiul mssilf, however we; lihy he migh: be; she is no Lady Vt. Ayvas. " " .\nd yet,," he said to himselt oddly, "there are worse fellows after all than I: and an angel, or at any rate a good woman rtU(;h a-< Birtlie is sure to develope sdready thrown the fair tileucoi;!; raid into, miglit, were ,su.' lo ved me, !)j the Till-: HA X !{/■:. s (niAxvciii!.i)i!i:x. 8a • niukin,;:^ of mo ; br.i, icood hoaveiis I what a tlownri^uhr. fool Tin ,:»ro\viii:; to bi;." On tlio fbllowioi,' inorniiii,' J;irvis. at «liiitc' an early lion;-, Tor ai! liis iinuiral iiidoleiico, and liio sliyht latigut; occa- sioned by bis journey, arose, and, afier breakfast, drove over to tbo Gimp cot- tas;e in a vebicl •. owneil by tlie landlord of the " Lion,'' whicb conveyance, J.ir- vi8 mentally con.Mieuted, was as tjueer and still", and this aiiini il w'.iich dre^v i', as whot/.y as its ■.v.)rL,iiy pro[)ri(;tor. Tbe winter liay v,-as CD. d and bri^lit and frosty; an(i liuiidsonK' Jarvis lookeil handsomer than ev -r in iiis iu-avy fur wrappings, will: a healllifnl uluvv uver- spreadiiii-; bis line lace; and liis dark eyes were I)ri;;ht':'r, vvith more of ani- mation in Mieni than was v.'ont. Birdie Wykle, lookin;; uut over tlie briubt, sunlit winder landscape, saw her liero, of v.iiorn sl!<! bad drt'amed niubt and day, sine;; bis de[)ariure IVuni Cwmdaron, approaehin:; ;lij cottage, and nttered a cry o'^ deiight. " Lor" sakes I inv dear young lady, what's the matter'.'" incpured ^Jrs. Gimp, looking up in surprise from the ll!i.>ey j^own wliicb slie was making for iu-rself. Mrs. Gimp ahvays addressed IJIrdie as "my dear young lady," or •■ Miss Bir- die." Perhaps tlia: undefinable, yet ne- vertheless nnm!stakeal)le 'something' which ch;;racterizi'(l the peasant girl's manner, that " repose that stamps tbe ca.ste of ^"ere de Vere," ii;ipres>cd the ;;ood woman, or >h'' liad a si-rtof precon- ception, s'uren;jitheiied l)y tiie certainty that a nivstery of some kind uww connect- ed with liic hitter's birtli, telling her that 'Mis.slVii'die' was a huly. At any rate she treated the young girl with the same ileference wliieli >be would have maintained towards her had she been tbe acknowledgetl d;iugbti r and heiress of Lady Lirdetta iJo/.enthal. Dirdiellew from i^he wiiiviow at which she had been sranding, tov,-ari tbe outer door, exclaiming JAfally in reply to Gimp's iaterrogaiivc : "Mr. Ches<oni— he is cctiiing:" and she ran out to meet him. Jarvis alighted, responding heartily to her shy glad greeting, af'.er vvbicii hi.H first comirient wa^ : " So you ve giijwn a l.>velier Birdie than ever, haven't you, little girlie ?" "By Jovcl" ln; mentally ejaeniatod, " What a glorious wonnui siie will make. Even beriiidysbip could never have l)een rpiite so beautiuil 1 tliiidc." ! Togetlier they entered the cottage ant] I the little parlor where Gimp was seat- i eil :'t work She arose with a curtsey ou ■ Maxtor .Tarvis" entrance, which was re- j peated jirofoundly as tlie latter flung hi.s ' riding gl »ves on the Uoor, and e.\teudecl I his hand t iv.-ard her. I The old Woman remained long eiiougli ! to assure the young gentleman of the ' * prii.ie and 'appiness' which was hers at ' l.ieing lionored with the privilege of I again entertaining hini, anl to make nn- i uierous iutjuiries coiiceriiing tiie welfare of ail at Maplewood, and then hurried . from the little room to mike some pre- : !>arati .>iis for the guest whom she de- ; ilLchted to entertain, tiius leaving Jarvi.< I to cliat uudisturbeil vviib his proiege. ! •' Have yon enjoyed yours^df since 1 lelt her;-, Birdie ^' Jarvis imjuired pre- i sently. •' Yes sir, very mucli. only I was fool- ; isli enough to fear that I should neve. I see you ag.iin, and sometimes I could I not h(;Ip "fet'ling oil ! so very lonely," j Birdie answered h'th-tlij. I Jarvis smiled. { " .Vml you would ri.'ally miss mc I enougii to feel very loii'-ly if voii were I never to see me again, BirJie V " he said., i looking down at her. i •* Ohl Mr. Cliessom." i The words, and the accotnpanying i ::lan "e.was a reply quite ehxp.ient enougli, I and Jarvis stniled at InT il!genouusues^. '• Well Birdie," lie said, i'm sorry you ! were troubled with the fear that we i slioui'u'nt meet again ; and yet'I should'nt ; like you to liave given me one les.'-i ; tliought, or to have wisned less to sec I me, for perhaps you know the lines : I " Ti.-i .swHOt to kno'.v tliore i- iin eye will in irk I ■■ui' Ldiiiina, and look ljii'.;htur nheu wo come." I •' 1 am seltisli enough Birdi(}. to wish I you to lie always lonely when I am not i near you." j " (ih 1 1 am sure I shall always be that ioY how could I lielp i:?"' siie answered j softly. j And tl.eu Jai'vis remi-inbered that his j left ari.i i'ucircl(;d liirdie's slender waist. : that he iiad ki.--ed her while forehead ' tenderly, that all this was vi'ry hue gen- I uine love-making and tluit he was "making an idiot of Mniself; " and he j released her. sayinjf. '' I've something ' of importance to tell you Birdie, so I ii-iteii." / nd Birdie lisri'ned. 1 •• \ lady will \i>it}u:i in a few days, i Birdie," Jarv. ij-gan; :i la.lv wlio i> al- 84 T]iE HA yKKirs tniAXj)ciULhin:x. I •1 that slio onc£ knew youi* with astonisl- most certain parents." Birdie's eyes dilated ment and deliaht. "Oh Mr. Chessom, is it possible';" she exclaitued eagerly; "pray tell me who is this lady? " "A widow lady of wealth an' hi^ih rank; by name, Lady Birdetta Hozen- tlial," answered Jarvis. "Birdettal" said Birdie in surprise; "how singular tliat hei" name shaiild be the same as my own." " You may learn things mucli stranger ere Ion;;;, Birdie,'" he said with a smile ; and just then Mrs. Gimp's t'ootstep-^; were lieanl approacliinir the door. "Oh I Gimpy,' ciicd ]'>irdio, ax the jjood womnn appeari'd ; "what do you tliink Mr. Ciiessoin ha< just been telling me? — Why there is a huly — a roal lady, who is coming hti'<:- to t(;ll me about my papa and mamma ; for she is nearly cer- tain of havintr cnc c known them. "Gracious! .^Ti'.ster Jarv, is this so? or is Miss Birdie so glad to see you that it's made her a little flighty?" enquired Gimp, wl'o, ilioui:li she w;<s certain that her charge was of far finer clay than the peasantry with whom she had been reared, was not, quit>' prepared to understand how a " real latly" should ever deem it worth her while to visit homeless, name- less IJirdie for the purpose of enliiihten- in'4 ii. ■.' upon the subject of her birth. ' All a fact, my -^'ood Gimpy I' -Jarv's answered with a lauyh; "and Miss Birdie's joy at my return lias not caused her wits to stray.'' He was iuierruptcd by Birdie, who gravely asked : 'Do you know. Mr. Chessom. if 'his lady can tell me if my parents are living. and if so, where they now reside, and why they never have claimed me? Surely thev could not have lo\ed me, to cast me oirthus." "Lady Birdetta," .Tarv replied, "be- lieves your mother to be yet living, but not your ftither: and if she is right, as I am certain she is. yon were taken from your mother by tho-e to whose interest it was to part you fi'ora her; and your parent wjs led to believe you dead."' "Oh I cruel, who could ever have committed such a wicked act ?" Bir- tlie exclaimed, with horror and 'ndig- iKUion. •I :iin not at lilierty to partici.larize, iiirdic," .Tarv answered; 'so- you must muster patience- to wait until her lady- ship's arrival, which will be in a few • days, at most." And so Birdie waited, though it cau scarcely be said with patience. A week passed, and every day Jarvis rode over to the cottage: and every day he grew more in !ove, though insensibly so, with his protege, while she. as the time passed, grew to worship her hero yet more devoutly. One evenins, ut«t seven days subse- ([Uent to Jarvis" arrival. Birdie, who had just returned to tiie cottage from a lesson at skating on a neighbouring lake, with Jarvis as her instructer, stood by the little parlour win low looking out at the gathering twilialit, and busy in thought. She was thinkiiiir, perhaps, of the mys- tcirious circumsiauces connected with her birth, which, perchance would be speedi- ly made clear: or it might have been that she was dreaming o; Jarvis, and the fond good-night kiss which he had imprinted upon 1 er forehead only a few moments previous at the cottage door. At all events, so at)sori^ed was she that she did not see or hear the approach of a carriage until it was with.n a few yards of the oot- taiie door.. To whom, Birdie wondered, could this elegant vehicle lielong ? Then flashed the thought — it must V)e Lady Hozeuthai— the patrician dame who was to make known to humble Birdie who and what s'.ie was. The surmise was correct; it was her lady.ship; and directly she was ushered into the little parlour by Mrs. Gimp, who announced with a curtesy : " If you please, my iady, this is Miss Birdie," and withdrew. Birdie arose with a quiet di:;nity that was innate as her ladysl- ip advanced. But she recoiled, and vvas startled when, with a sudden cry, tke lady exciaimed : " Truly, my own little Birdie, and a woman grown I Thank heaven 1 1 see my precious child ouce more, whom I ha\e all those years believed deail and buried under tliit dreary little mound. Birdie, my child, i am your motaerl" Birdie uttered a cry. scarce knowing whether she were awake or dreai'Mng, or ifthe outstrctcliLMl ar. ns of the 1 ly were really meant to receive her. She came nearer, saving with childish yearning: "Oh! is it true?" Lady Birdetta cl::sped Iter daughter fondly in her warm embrace — •'Tru(> in every blessed particular, my 4 THK r,AXh'/:/rs anAKiwifiLDnEX. 85- or [re ter 1.V own precious rlukl," she was assured fondly, and her ladyship added : " One Hhiuce alyourl'iiee, and, without other proof, my heart would have told ine that you were luy ilauyliter, whom I have mourned as dead all tliese weary, weary years." In all her life before Birdie had never even dreamed of so ijreat a happiness coming into her path. She, who never, until the vlay in winch Jarvis, in a freak of ireuerosity, liad spoiveu kindly to her by the roadside, and directed her to the cottage or Mrs. Gimp, had known what it was to bo otlierwise pro- tected tlian to receive liie rough tare and poor shelter atl'oriled by Dame Poliey, to be thus suddenly lilted from her present humble condition to a position wliichshe had often, thouuli hopelessly, Ionised to attain, that of a * real lady,' like t'ue dauahters of the Glenci'ofton's of Glen- eroftou, who were so fair and stately, and wore sucii spaikling gems, and traiinng robes of shimmering silk and rich velvet ; and more than dainty apparel, and costly jewels and high sta tion, far more delightful was the precious assurance that slie ohould possess many friends who would welcome her as tiie beloved daughter of this beautiful, gentle lady, who was really her mother, strange and almost too great happines.s though it seemed. Lady Ilirdetta remained that night, as well as lor a good many days and nights after, at xMrs. Gimp's cottage, whose astonishment was only e'lualled l)y her delight when apprised of the fact t'nat Birdie, as she had herself propliesied, was to be suddenly elevated to rank and station. The day following her arrival, at Cwm daron. Lady Birdetta sought out the sis- ter of the woman whom Sir Montfort had bribed to take charge of the little Birdie. The old woman confessed her knowl- edge of the share which her deceased sister had taken in the plot which Sir Montfort had designed for parting his daughter from her child. Lady Birdetta even recognized in the description which the old crt'ature gave minutely, the very dress— a delicately embroidered little pink robe, which the child wore when carried to her sister's hut. tage to bid her ladyship and her lady- ship's daughter adieu tor tlie present. "I start for I'oImIou's place to-mor- row." he said; "Init 1 shall not remain tliereilong. As it is your ladyship's in- tention to remain for some weeks in London," he added; "1 shall hope to have the pleasure of meeting yon there, directly I return, which I shall do ere many days." Her ladyship smiled graciously. "Notlung could gi^e us greater plea- sure 31r. Chessom.'' said >-he; '-pray visit us as soon as you reach London. We shall spend five oi" six weeks in the City, ere we jjo from tlienco to Mor- cambe." There was a tlaili at Jarvs* heart ast Bir«'.ie. with shy eagerness, seconded her motlier's cordial invitation. Had one ventured to I'ally him upon having fallen in !<>ve with tins womanly child ot only tlfteen years he would have "pshawed" so aVisurd an idea: and yet during nearly every hour of each day she was not out of liis thouglits. "Confound Poldson," ha growled mentally, as he drove towards the Lion - after having shaken hands with Lady Kozenthall and Biidic. and listened to a multitude of Gin^.p's best wislies for hi>: safe arrival at Oakwood, his friend's residence. " Hang Polsdon.'' he again grumbled. " I was an idiot to promise that I'd Journey to his place; but I suppose there's no backing out now. I shall stay but one week, ho\vever, instead of four or tlve." Lady Bozentliall sat Ity the flre in Mrs. Gimp's parlor. It was evening, a few hours after Jarvis had departed. She was gazing witii smiling content at the I beautiful face other newly found daugh- ter, who sat a little w:iy from her, looking, at pages of an illustrated nuigazine. Suddenly an atlriglited cry reached tiieir ears " ^L^lnmaI " exblaimed Birdie; "what can it be? " Kre her mamma had time to reply, the door was thrown unceremoniously open, and Gmip with a pale lace, and her aprou to her eyes, appeareil. "Gh! my lady— poor Master Jarvl" she gasped. A day or two after the events above recorded Jarvis drove over to the cot- " My good woman, whatever has hap- pened?" cried her ladysiJp much alarm- ed; while Birdie, too terrified to speak, grew colorless to her lips.. Before Gimp's shaking lips could C 1 !!>■■■ i .^1 I I II '•I \^4 "in: iLiyh'Firs ai/. i y/xjj/iLni.'L-y I'riuiK! ;i roply to the C|iio>tio!i, >i:r n: •o oiivclopod ill Ihiiiio tlmt ourcss— i-x- tlie iici^tliliorlni; ponsaiits ;ippeii''('il bo'u- cep'iuit tliroiiiih a siiiall \viii.l<nv just lu'^ on a i'on;i!i litti'r .Mii^tL-r Jurv's in- seii.s'.hlc tiu:nix'. Liidy Koz 'iiIIkU b^nt over '• (iood lieavnns ! what, mean ? " she cried :r.!Ti. above tlio blazln£r doorwaj- — was soon rcrKk-ri'il iniiKKsiblc. All tlic in; lates had not been abio to elV.'.-t ttn-ir escape, his; I'or a horntied r.rcliin v.-.js seen, IVantio- inmpmi: np am ovvn, with wild Tlic jnen linrrieuly expltiin'id, nu'ivvere ! screams oflerror, at. tie window abovt iindei-'^tood botli by 15irdie an J (Uinp; ])iit tlie dialect r)f the Welsh peasiintry hein;r qidte enintelji^alilu to iicf lady- ddp. JJirdie, I'or Ciinip was la:- ';oo ex- iip ntioned Someone placed a lailder airainst t!ve bMildiiiir, out ID one sc'ini'd inciim'il to rnn tlie risk ot'asci'ndiiiir it, uidi! Jurvis, <nted to be colierent, was jbli^ed to i moved to pity by the eiics of both mo translate. Oh mamma." she cried I iier and child, did so, and brok^; in tli n'iiin;i)y i window, whicirt w;i> warpiMJ by tlie a.s she knelt hesich; the inanimate fori;i I wt-ather as' to make it a dilficult matter or h"r hero, "thi-rehas been a ilre in Owindaron, and in saviiiij somebody's life, poor brave Mr. f'hesso)i ],as bcfn dreniiiully linrt. 'I'jiere is a doctor from Kilravoc who liappeiis to be in Cwmdaron to-nght ; he will be here presently. And Oh!-th"y say ids ann— his rii;ht arm is broken, mamma. And he is so white, and does not move I— Uh I maciriia, it cannot be that he is — She could n*''". ^ux (had .' the u-rvii'yin^- word died on hei !'|vs. and she sank, with n ^i'.sidujr sob, to thu llooi- by the >ofa. "No, no, dear chiiil. he has bu': faint- ed,"' her mother .'•oot.hinirly assured, her, and a minute later the doctor I'l'i.iin Kil- ravoc entered the little parlor. He prom 'need Jarvis in no daiiL'er. His arm was broken, though iio"^ iiadly The most serious of his injuries beini: that Ills eyes were badly weakened by the smoke ami tlanie through which he had slrug;;le(l. lu less thai; nn hour lie was lyinir in bed with his right arm and lii.s eyes ban- daged, and d(jing as well as con d be ex- pected under the circumstances. The circumstances of the atl'uir were as follows : On reaching Cwmdarou Jarv's found the village in au uproar, ami resounding with the cries of tlie. Two or three houses standing near together were wrapped in Hames which the excited to r.-iise It. Th villagers were vainly trying to extin- guish. .Tarvis would have driven on without heediug further the fracas ; but eicite- ments of any description were rare in Cwradaron, aud he decided to join le next minute le; descended and dropped, iiro the trembling ;ir:tj>) of the mother her howling otlspring. .And now ancjlher cry of terri'r aro-e as anotlier face appeaiH-d at the window, looking down l)eseechiiigly at liie crowd. Itwasau old woniiU'. this time, the mother of the cottngei'. .Tarvis shruLi'ured his siionlders. To atrain fiscend tlie ladtler was a dcculedly dangerous experiment : but it was clear that if lie did notatteajpt it no one else wonUi do so. He was no coward: but, as ho after- wards expix'ssed it, '' It was a tremen- j dous bore to inconvenience one's self so 1 miiihtily, for the sal^o of one old i wi'inkled witch of a woman." I The old creature wa? iu most imminent I danger, however, an<l !ier white face I and piteous cries were not to be with- ' stood : and ihouirh the etloU was one of { great risk, Jarvis agai;; started to the ■ rescue. I He reached the window to discover I that the woman had disappeared. Terri- j lied, and half sutl'ocated. .'-he had turned, I evidently in the vain hope of finding i some other means of escape ; and had , fallen to the fkior senseless. j .Tarvis thrust his head into the aperture from which a cloud of Mue smoke wss now Issuing, aud gave a lleet, rueful [ alance about, then dashed Into the little I '"hole in the wall' which served the old ! woman iu the capacity of a sleeping I apartment. He found it desperate work I to light his way through blaze and smoke tlie ; to the spot a few feet otf, where the old crowd who were energetically, if hope- 1 creature lay. He reached her, however, ihssly working. /Accordingly he started and caught her up,« w-rapping her shawl for the scene of the conflagration. ! about her liead, and force! his way de- The roofs of tv.o of the cottaL^es were' terminedly out to the ladder, dropping already about to fall, and the thad was, his burden into an upheld blanket. m m 77//; /;.i .\- A ;;/.'•, s' (,u'.ixi)c;i!ij>!:/:\. K7 ire ;as ul le M wl il. "i il •! ho r-t- s •':('''•-' 1 1 i>i'<l r<ll, wiMi hi-, ri:,'!i'., iinii r.wkwiiiillv il^»iih!cii imili-r him. A )v,rti()H of I 'i^' biiriii'ii: .slnicluri! ii* th:lt lUoiiiiiiL U, Ml)h (1, The spot whciN' .l;ii'vi»; I aiKl tlio-i! \v!j() nl^hl' r<.-scuo ui'i-o hilt ji'.st, luxr, iiKur.cnt, ii;io:lur sci'iidc'd, r.oni wiii'Mi, I! U vc'.'v iiciir :;imsclt'hi;i('ii : Miiif. lor ih',' ■.II 'J; m.lss (!.;• i*; not booi) i*. Wi>nM liiive ri.-- ''.iivin:^- thiui tlio.se :i'l : : f i il I'll' !: >liiin, J:irvi<. • AVi'ckv. wonhl ;iil it no;. I).'('ti Ull- aUoiictlicr iiii|iosslhh', ••juircil nii>i\' .'•kill r.iu aromul iK>s.'<c'.'<st'il to cyt^riritc him. Ho was at !ir.-t uiu;o\isci(H- : bin, tlic pain • )!' hi.-' Iraciuictl iii'iii brouul-.t him l\>v a lew inoiiifii!^ back to {•('•isrioiisne.'^s, ami he rt'qm'.*it(cl lho.se who hail ijlaccil him upon a litter K) ;.'.ke him to the Gimp o>)tta;.'t% iii:>te:ul 'A' t ■ ;!'i- 'L'oa." He wa.s olieycd. and pla< cd in thf vehicle wiiicji he h.'id hi.iis(.'H'(bi\ n) a little whil-' '.;etbre; and cic ihcy rcc!. d the cottii^e !;e had ai;ain relapsed i;t<> iiisimsibiliiy. The ilay.s went bv. ;ii!>! thoiiii-li his broken arm ^v,•^.s siil: in Alu V the elap-i'- of ti:''c have i>eeii him-' It' auai;'. I i'or Li.-: eye.-^, iVi'-ni w able to rciiiov.' tlie ban('^;;e. It wa.s about this tiiin^ that Chaiii" Polsdon, Icaruinu; that Jarvis was in Cwmdarnn, and fpiite ill, eamo, accom- panied bv two Of t!ii'-''e of '[]•." tellows' to visit liim for a day ( i' two. Tolsdon ■ leclared ho. liavinu: oi;cc ix.'n laid up in same stupid little town, ]v.\o\\ how to pity him. But, after rem.iinin,ir a lew hours, tlie yonnu: Vv'elshnian exchiimed to his companions, as h<^ sat by the lounge on which Jarvis vcciinecl : "Faith, boys, J don'; .'■'■e th.at our pre- sence here is at all nece.>-,'-ary. .Tarv seems to be doins capitally. .\ vastly ditlVn'ont lime 1 had of it lastaulnmn, when cooped up over at that wretched hutch, the Lion ; nursed by the landlady, who was as ■Jeaf as if herears were wooden, she bein?: • )Ccasional!y assisted by her lovely daugh- ter, whose fairy-liko lootfalls were very like the steins of an ek^phant. 'J'here was no romance in my condition. My horse shied; and J didn't save anybody s life. It's a pity thouy;h that instead of a horrid old witch and a squallini; urchin, it couldn't have been a lovely damsel for whom you took th^' trouble to risk your life and singe your lock^ and scorch your liquid orbs, Ciiessom. But you have one to attend upon you who is beautiful as a siren. "St. David!" added the yount: man, "what will London say when it .tind.s out about this romar e ol Lady IJirdetta's vonth, and boholds hercharni- i'lU' d.niiht' r '^ I ;im nearly capsized \\\'J\ ast mishnv'iit ant admiin'io'i mysclt. lint bovN. 1 propose tli.'it we re- tnni to Oikwood tomorrow. (.■heS'^oiii will thank us, no doubt. I sec; our coni- iii;-' here out of pity was connniseratiou quite uuiieccssa"\ ; and I'm deli;i;hted tliiit I shall not bi; forced to remain ar till- 'Lion' lou<iiT Iban for one ni_'ht." So a little wliiie later the youu:^ men took their departure. "Oil, by tlio w.;v I was quite f.ir:;et- tiniT," said I'oNdon. retnrniii^ to -Lirvis' side, after irivn:; sliakci hands with and bidden the latter a:o().!-")y<'. "Here are a po kctlnl of letters which eame from Kiiiil.aiid t.> you. Of course all your fi:en<is believe you to be at Oak'.vio;: ;ind ar- dotibi]. >s woiulerintr whv t!iey do nor, i.'-et a word iVoin you;'" and he tossed hi-« friend a half dozen or so of h^tti-rs and papers. "Of (ourse." !:•' whispelt'd, '• the lovely, dark-eyed, iiiile heir(;ss wl!! read them all to yon. Ah I just cf)ntr-i-.* your situation now. v/itli mine 1 tst O -rober. Tiider the (Mr- c.umstances vnn'ie ,n ii.'s a <lelit:ht to l)e lame and liait ani blind, and the like. ButI'mo!!': 'Jiooil bve, a:i:ain." " Cood-bye," aud the younji men left the cottaii". '• Hirdii-. will vru read my letters to me?" .Tarvis a-kcd. a litMe while after the dep.irlure of his friends. Eirdie eame with a ready assent and sat down bv his chair. " I will hear t!i" letters from home first, if you please," ho said, for, of course, ther" wiu-st be at least one from Maplewooil." He pushed aside the bandage from Ids eyes for a moment, and glanced at the several superscriptions. '• This one first if yon please. Hirdie," he said, handinir her a letter addressed in the handwriting of Philip Chessom, an 1 re-arranging the bandagw. Piirtlie broke the seal and read ali>iid. The epistle w.-is (piite a l<»ngthy one, and toward the last contained an ac -ount of the stolen six hundred pounds ; and -Tarvis learned that h'morable. nprinht Lmest was suspected— even banhshed, for his own thoughtless, ijumanly act. "Good heavens 1 " he cried excitedlv, as Lirdie flnished the perusal of the letter; "to accuse Ernest, of all others, of a dishonest act or even thought. What a scoundrel 1 am, and how stupid -.hey are I Poor Krnest, he is so sensi- ^^ Tin: iiAXKFArs gha xdciuldiiux. i I '•'■■ tive ;niil lionoiiral)Ie, Ix; Ciin ill brook auytliiii;,' ot lliiit kind." liinlie <;re\v alanned, iov Jurvis was lluslic'd nnd excited, iip.d pii.shiiii; the bandage far eiioii;i;li from his eyt^'s to (mi- al)lc' liiiii to SCO his way. paced the little room rapidly. "I'ray do not walk so I'a.st, Mr. Ches- som, you will bo ko tired: do sit down," uryed lJirdic\ " If this ;:eiitlein;in is in- nocent his innocence w;H oe proven l)e- fore loni.' ot course. Is he your friend, Mr. (^hessom?" '• l-'rieud !" muttered .Tarvis, more to him.«elf than aloud. " I'oor Ernest, if be knew all, he would class ine anion:;: bis worst onomies." Then he iiappened to glance at Birtlie'> perplexed, troubled face and recollected himself. " I am worrying; you Birdie," he said, sitting tlowii and drawing the shade over his eyes again; "but don't look so troubled. The fact is, a good, lionour- able fellow is charged with a crime which a bad one has committed; and the stu- pidity of them all, in believing him capa- ble of anythiuir of the sort has vexed me." And after tliat .Jarvis feigned a more ijui t state of mind ; and when he appear- ed quite himself again, Birdie was satis- tied anil left him to attend to other duties as lie did not at present care to hear any more letters read. When Birdie's footsteps were beyond hi.H liearing Jarvis rose from his seat, pulled the bandages altogether away from his eyes and bolted the door. His next move was to take the bandages from his arm also. Then he took writing materials from a case in his portmanteaii 'uid be- gan a letter which commenced as follows : " Dear Grandfather,— I have met with .an acciden. this time, wlricli has detained me in this Utile town of Cwmdaron for more than three weeks. 1 received a visit from Charlie Polsdon to- Jay, who brought me your letter. 1 have luul my right arm broken, and my eyes so severely dam- aged by a fire which occurred here that I only remove the shade from tliem to pen these lines, because 1 viaM. \ wish to heaven that I could have l)eeu cognizant of the painful event, which has occurred during my absence, earlier, Grandfather. It was not lirnest, but myself, who abstracteil that six hun- <ired pounds from your escritoire. I will confess all. 1 took it for the pur- pose of settling a gamb'ing debt which I owed in London. I had made such freipient calls upon you for funds, onh a short time before, th.it I was fearful of i)eing ijuestioncd. I knew the amount vvould be missed; but I hiid nf)t a though* tliat anyone in particular— least of all lirnest— woiikl be chirked with having wronglnlly appropriated it. I bitterly re- gret now tins act -the basest, most un- manly which I ever committed: but I do nut tell you this, hoj)ing for your pardon. I do not iherit it, and don't expect 'it. When I'm a little further recovered I shall leave England, and go to — "' A sudden dizziness seized hi:r,, a great tierce pain, that seemed to rend his eye- balls, so intense was it, surged through his head; and mominir fiiuily he fell from his chair to the floor. ClIAl'TEU XXX\', WW. i.ivrri:i! is Disi'.vrciii;!). Jarvis' moan and heavy fall was heard by Mrs. (fiinp as she was pas.-iing the door ot the little parlor wherein he lay, prone upon the floor. In alarm the good woman hastened to the door, calling : " Master Jaiv, whatever's the niatter?" There was no reply; and, to her dis- may, the door was locked. Several times again she called without receiving an answer, or hearing the slightest sound from within; then, look- ing through the keyhole, she beheld his prostrate form upon the floor. Too much friglitened to think of Hnd- in<; any other way of ingress Mrs. Gimp raised her riglit foot and placed it with no weak force against the panel of the door; and, being a woman of strength, one repetition of the blow sufllced to break the lock, and the door flew open. Jarvis soon recovered consciousness; but suffered intense pain in his eyes, which had become much inflamed and weakened by too early removing the shades from them, and overstraining them in the eft"ort of writing. He was unlike himself too, aft^. that, being nervous, and often gloomily ab- stracted. Lady Birdetta still continued to re- main at the cottage, as she had remain- ed duiing the last three weeks, instead of returning at once to London, accord- ing to her intention ere the accident, with which Jarvis met, took place. More than once did her ladyship vo- lunteer to write to Mr. Chessom, inform-- ing him of the serious accident which THR liAXKKR'S GRANDCUILDUEX, sy 5iad berivllen his grandson ; but Jarvis DegaUved her offer wUh sncii ill-couceal- €d ncu'vousiiess and constraint, i-acli time the subject was mentioned, tliat, after thti second time, slie said no more about It. I '• Tliey mijrht believe mc worse off than ' I really ara," he said once, trying to! *;peak with carelessness; "and might even tal<e thi trouble to come all the j way here to nurse and talce care of me, which your ladyship and Miss Jiirdie ! having !<iii<lly done, until I am nearly j well, would be an unnecessary A'orry. If! they sometimes wonder that tliey hear' nothing I'roin me, why. of course, tliey find j & reason fur my neglect In the belief j that I am so liiiildy enjoying myself with Polsden and liis friend, that I have, for i the present forgotten them. So, you see, my dear Lady Birdetta. it is wisest ! not to undeceive them until I have liuite i .jjotten round, wliich I am now in hopes I will be ere lonjr." And the unfinished letter the— writing of wliicli had rendered poor Jarv's weakened eyes so much more inflamed and weak that the doctor wlio at- tended him was fearful of ultimate blindness— lay among other papers in his writiuii-case, and Jarvis lacked the courage to send it, certain o( the consequences. And so the days slipped by, until Lady Birdetta received a London telegram, informing lier of the dangerous illness of a dear friend and relative, and requesting her to return to England at once if possible Lady Birdetta read the telegram aloud to Jarvis. "Poor aunt Gwendoline, I must go to her Immediately," she said sorrowfully, us she finished the perusal of tlie brief message. Jarvis turned his shaded eyes tovvard her ladyship, saying with a lugubrious smile : "If somethiijg imperative had not called your ladyship away, I wonder how much longer youc kindness of heart and yuur patience could have withstood theti(/i((/,of this dreary place, and caused you to re- main here for the sake of such a good-for- nothing Individual as I. I shall timl it miserably dull here after you are gone ; and Birdie, how shall I ever get along without seeing her bright face _.ery hour of the day ?" " My dear Mr. Chessora," said her ladyship earnestly, "Neither Birdie or 1 can ever render to you attentions or ser- vices great enough to repay you for the priceless blessing which you have brought to us both; and, dearly as I love my aunt Gwendoline, [ should not feel It my tluty to go away, knowing that you remained here alone, biinil for some time to come, and ' miserably dull,' as you have said." Lady liozenthal was secretlv wonder- ing at the silence oetween Jarvis and his family, and which was causing the latter to wonder not a little, as testified a second letter, written by Mr. Chessoro, who also sent this letter to Oak wood, the same as the first, Jarvis receiving it from Charlie I'olsdon, who again visited him In Cwmdaron. Her ladyship was beginning to suspect tluit the reticence, whicli was on Jarvis' part, wis some- thing singular, though she was at a loss to divine its meaning. " Bray, let meat once write or dispatch to your family, Jarvis," slie continued. ••Your silence Is really unjust, botl» to yourself and your friends; you really ought to apprise them of your serious condition." For several minutes Jarvis did not re- ply, a fierce struggle was going on with- in him. When first he had learned that Ernest bore the blame of his own unnmnly act he had manfully resolved that, cost him what it might, he would confess all, and that he should bear it no longer. But, within the last few weeks a knowledge liad come to him, a conviction, at which lie at first smiled incredulously, that he was learning to love — and to love madly — Lady Koi^euthars dark-eyed, singular, beautiful daughter. Two months ago he would have laughed at the idea : but now he could not but acknowledge that, henceforth, life without Birdie Wylde, would be to him a miserable void. Some- times he half-wondered how and wlieu this love had come to him. He knew not that it was l)ut a deepening of the interest which he had felt for the friend- less waif on their first meetiug, in the dreariness of the cliill autumn dusk. 'Tis said that "love will make cowards as well as heroes of men." Certainly iti was Jarvis Willoughliy's incipient pas- sion which made him keep cowardly silence now. One day — the very one upon whicli he received his supposed grandfather's let- ter, ccntainiug an account of the dis- honourable deed, of which Ernest wa^ IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) ^O ^ <??^ 1.0 I.I K£ i 1^ H£ l"!^ 2.2 1^ 1.25 1.4 III 1.6 = II ^^ III ^s < 6" ► P: ^ vT 7: vV^ ^ o 7 Hiotographic Sdences Corporation «^ ■'Q <> xs 113 WEST MAIN STREET WEBSTER, N.Y. MS80 (716) 872-4503 ci^ i 9 <" ii 90 THE JLi XKJ-JJrS GRAXDC 7/ / /. DJ:EX. B' t- accused, Jiirvis sat listoniiiir whilo liirdle read aloud a spirited Anieiicaii novel. And while 8he believed him wholly absorbed in tht hero and heroine of the tale, and the histor}' of their love, with its 'aUernate joy and woe,' he was, in truth, far more deeply engrossed in ron- teniplalion of her own lair face, with its .shaiiuwy IVaming of rich dark hair, its haunii'iir dark eyes and soft red lips. Slje had been quaintly beautiful in her plaidod short-skirted wincey, her plaited hair and gay kerchief; but ^lle was far lovlior now in a softly flow- ing dress of mauve cashmere, with frosty lace at neck and wrists, and her hair ar- ranged in a simple, girlish fashion that was very charming. And jurvis, now and then dreamily looking from beneath the shade that covereil his eys, admired her fresh young l)eauty, whose chief charm was in the l)lending of dignifled womanli- ness and childish naivete that character jzed her, and owned that he had grown to dearly love her — this little Birdie; and wondered if he would ever be able to make himself worthy of her love in re- turn. ]f ich, with little heed or thought of the value of money or how lavishly he used it, he wa« a general favorite among the voungmen of his set. He drank, gambled, though without the knowlege of Mr. Chessom, and joined in all the gayest, and not alw?T5 the most reputable rievels, if not in the maddest orgies of his fast, dashing friends. His Was an odd disposition, not un- mingled with some good traits ; and he possessed notions of honor, with which one would scarcely have credited him. " 1 am a sort of scoundrel, little girlie," lie said mentally, glancing from under the shade, at the fair yoang reader, who read on, unconscious of bow much more absorbed he wa^ in thoughts of bersalf than in the pleasant novel which so much delighterl her. " I have been about as worthless an in- <lividual all my life as eter my litle Birdie will be likely to encounter ; but, by Jove ! I'll be one no longer, I'll turn over a new leaf and "and paste it down,' as fionicbody said once ; and when my little girl returns from her Parisian training, if she is then as sweet and lovable as now, which I hope to Heaven she will be, I iihall be worthy to sue for her love. But what shall 1 do with time wblle she is gone? A few liouis- berore, Jarvis; had licr.al Laily Kdzouthal announce her intcr.tion of sending lier daujjrhtn* to a flrst-class Parisian seminary for young ladies, at which si'.e intended her to remain for three years; and Jarvis bogmi to feel that he sliould miss terril)ly tlio little girl who was now his constant companion who sang to him in her lov*-ly if crude voice; wlio read to him and cLatted.to him. His next thought was : — ^youkl— after the three years of 'refine- ment' at ]Madanie I)e Chollis establish- ment, wliieh was to be gone tl-rouuh with — there be any characteristic ieseiiil)lancu between Miss WyMe,the 'linislied' young lady and rich heiress, who would be one of the most beautiful belles in London, when she chose to reign there, and the simple nnconventjonai, yet innately elo- quent, graceful litt'.e girl who non- liitted about him — his devout worshipper? He half doubted it ; and an ugly feeling- thrilled him as he wondereil if she would develop into a young lady, all trifling airs, and shallow, prettyish affectations, like scores of the fashionable demoinetles with whose acquaintance he was hon- oured. And then he told himself that Birdie was too sensible, and too much like her mother to be likely to ever be- come either a silly, arrogant belle, or a vapid, frivolous doll. She would come back the same sweet, sensible little Birdie, only more beautiful and graceful ; she would love him as devotedly as he loved her now— should always love her;: and they would marry and— like the lovers in the fairy tales—" live together happily forever after." It (i')3t Jarvis a great struggle to write the letter which, if finished and sent,, would be certain to bring Mr. Chessom's sternest anger upon him, and, in all pro- bibllity. cause his disinheritance. " Grandfather is so strictly honour- able," Jarvis told himself : *• and 1 took this sum for the payment of a gambling debt to one of the wildest, fastest feilows^ in London ; I shall expect no mercy." Nevertheless, upon the impulse whif;b his better self prompted, he began, as the reader is already aware— the letter which was to clear Ernest and implicate- himself; and that letter he would have- flnished and dispatched had it not been for the sudden w ;aktiess and severe paia which blinded and prostrated him for the time. But hours after, when Lady Blrd« etta and her daughter were moving gently, in devoted attention about blm,, € I C r I » Q Tin: i'.A \k'/:/rs auAShcuii.DnFK. \n D, 89 etter Icate- have been pain r tbe ird- ving him,. Uiu mauly ro^olve ijccumf wo.ikcr. lie dari'il not ser.il up to ^i\. L'ln>!<oin tiie written coDfepsion uiiiwh Mis. Gimp, upon his ir.finlrinii, iiiiunninl hiai sbo h;ul put away carefully in !ii.> wiitini': case. "He cursed and «i.Mit uilrii': liis oiilv sou for niarryhif^ nzaiiist lii> \vi.«ln.'S,'" thought Jarvis; " \vii"! lie li.; less in- censed when he learn.- '!iat iiis c:,i'and.son has comniilt-'d a i'«-;iily ilisi.onorable deed? He writes iii" ihat he would sooner have losr in :niy o' In ;■ way >i\ thousand p(unid.> th.in r,i;at F,r;i -^t should have proved thus nnwnrtiiy. \\ rrulli, I believe he Wduld nl.'ullv have li-«t, much more, could he h;>.ve lo-r it in other way; bUb will he !<■«! •.•L-iieved when lie lluds hi;' clerk inuoci'.a and his grand- son •inilty V Good tuMV.Mis ! 1 cannot confess — I nvnui't. I i i< !ia>e, cowardly ; but my sweet, liirt'.i'- md liei' love, I would sooner die liiau h).-e."' And so the time passed; tiie selfish fear, that- if he manfully bore t!ie blame ofhis own deed his happiness should be forfeited, deterinu' lii a troni atloptiug the only honour;d»le couise, anil the »;ourse to which he h.ui at first been promptetl. Lady Birdetta stood waiting for his reply and wonderii'i^ whatevtr it was that, of late, had come over tliis hereto- fore careless mannered i/'»/t<7t'./,/ r/j/^youn^ man. "Ves, I may as w( 11 allow her ladyship to write; but cai> I send that letter? Good heavens! no. And yet, if I don't —if 1 permit Krnest to bear this shame, how shall I ever dare to face him or sweet, innocent lii Me Mabel ajjaln ? Surely never; and 1 will not be so mean and cowardly, even if by actihg otherwise 1 lose friends, inheritance, everythloj^, even little Birdie and her love. No, by heavens! I will not: I viUhQ a man." All this was passinii through Jarvis' ralad while her ladyship waited for hira to speak. Suddenly he turned his blindfolded eyes toward her ; and she .saw about the kaDdsome mouth tbe firmness of some sudden resolve. " Your ladyship i«« rifjht," he .said In a voice rendered carelessly steady by an effort, of which her ladyship knew naagbt. " 1 am really In a serious condition. Dr. Glenfalthe told me this morning ^hat he had but little hope that 1 should ever wholly recover my eye- sight. My Mends, as you remarked, ought and must know all. I sball t'eei :j;rateftd if yon will kindly send to my ^randi'aliier the lefer which I began, and was unal)le to finish— it is in my writing ca.-»': ;ilso, !' you will yourself write seperately telling him why I ilid not llmish my letter." Lady liozenthall began the task at once. fShe wro'.f to Mr. Chessom, informing I him of how .larvis" at1c;,ipt to write the I partly (!n!>lied letter wlii'h she onrlosed, I liad ri>iir< d in so airiiravnii'ii.: !iis already I iritliNi'd and weakened eys that his j pliy^iciaii was heiiinninir to !'"ir uliinaale I hliiidiicss. That she hail ht-fore desired him to li.ivt! word of his illness .setVt to li's tiii'iids at Mai>iiv\ .nul : but that — sanguine ofhis spccily, c<),!valesi'nce— hi' had rilVairii (I frmn doin^ s.>, and un- neeis-'ii'.ily aianuir:,' iIm-u). 'You will wonder wiiy I am here," she wrote; 'I will brielly info; m you. Whei) I left I'ngland, osteu.^ibly, to visit a friend who lives in .Snowden, I came instead t') this dull little town of Cwm- daron ; and fertile purpose of llniling my daughter— for I have a daughter by a former nianiage, of which all my friends are in iiiuorance. I have found my dear little gill, and later you will learn all that laok of time and space prevents me from inforinijig you of at present. I start for London to-morrow to visit a relative whom I fear is dying," she continued ; "and I hnve no doubt Jarvis will await; the coming of some of you with Impa- tience. Dear boy, had it not been for hira 1 .should never have found my child, or even have known that she yet lived. Can I ever be sufllcleutly grateful to him ?" A few more words and then Lady Roz- enthal had finished, and th-* double letter was aiveu iuto the hands of Jarvis' valet to despatch. .Tarvis heard the servant depart, and then buried his face on his pillow with a stifled groan. Birdie, who sat beside him, rose quickly and bent over him solicitously. "Are you suffering so much, Mr. Chessom," she asked in a sorrowful voice. lie turned toward her and caught her hands In his own. "I am suffering no pain, Birdie; at least none bodily,'* he said In tones that were so fhll of smothered pala and pas- sion, while his face was so white, so worn and haggard that Birdie uttered a little cry of alarm. 92 THE BANKER'S GRAXDCHILDREN. '* Oh I Mr. Chessom, you must be very ill ; let me rail mamoja und Ghnpy." He held her hauds and detained her saying : '•No no Birdie, you are needlessly alarming yourself. 1 am no more ill than I have been, only" — and there was a sob in his utterance — "Oh ! Birdie, I am wretched." Birdie's voice trembled, and Jarvis knew that there wer« pitying tears tall ing when she murmured softly : '• Oh ! I am so sorry. Can 1 do nothing for you, Mr, Chessom? " He clasped still more tighily the cool little bands in his own feverishly hot ones. "You can do so mueh, my Birdie — almost everything, if you oaly will,' * he said eagerly. " Oh I luen pray tell me what it is at once; 1 shall be so very, very glad to do anyihin;; that will preventyour becoming ill or unliappy," she cried. He drew lier closer towards him. **lt is iliis, Birdie," he said, "that let happen what may— even after I am blind — disgr.aced— disinherited— and I shall be all the.se ere long — you will not grow to despise me, even if all others despise and cast me off. Will you say this. Bir- die ? '* " And is this all, Mr. Chessom," Birdie asked sofily. " All, Birdie," he replied : " but you do not know all that has happened ; when you do, you may deem it much." "Then, Mr. Cheesoin, I will promise. Whatever has happened I know not ; but nothing should make me despise you, for I couldn't; I— 1 worship you, she said in her girll:>h, enthusiastic lashion ; " and I should hate any one who did despise you or cast you off," she added with a sud- den Indignant flash in her bright dark ■eyes. He smiled faintly at her enthusiasm. "But, If I were to tell you, Birdie, that I had committed a mean, dishonourable action— so mean and dishonourable that luy friends are justltted In despising me and casting me off, would you— if I were to tell you, also, that I repent bitterly my former coutcmptable follies— still try to think kindly of me ?" he asked still eagerly. " 1 shouldn't have to try," Birdie an- swered confidently. " I shall never think otherwise ; and I don't believe that there's anybody who hasn't some sins or follies to repent of. Everybody sins sometimes. though of course they hadn't ought to," she added philosophically. " Then 1 may trust that whatever others do, you will never grow to dislike and think coldly of me?" he asked. " Never, how can you think otherwise : and when I am gone away 1 shall think of you, and pray for you, and long to see you, until we meet again." " That m:iv be for a very long time. Birdie; but heaven bless you for th3 as- surance." He drew her down to him, and kissed her tenderly and would not let her go when she blushed and strove to free her- self. " Oh, pray let me go. Gimpy is com- ing; what will she say ? ' she whispered in confusion. " He smiled and released her as the good woman's footsteps approached, whispering, as he did so : "I have your promise little girllo; and it makes ine more reconciled t^o becom- ing, like Cain, • a wanderer and a vaga- bond.'" Her slender fingers tightened 'round his own for a moment, and then she left, him. And Jarvis buried liis face again, and inwardly cried with passionate vehemence: "I love her— I love her, my little Birdie., 1 want what I dare not ask— her love— her sweet love!" The day following Lady Kozenthal left Jarvis rel'Ttantly, and started with her daughter for T ondon. "I dislike to leave you here alone so much," she said, uneasily, the night pre- vious to her departure. "Indeed, I think we had better remain until your mother or grandfather arrives. You are sure to be so lonesome and moping, after we are gone, and you will have no one to read to you or amuse you, that I think it li^ positivelv wrong to go away until some of your friends come." "Of course it would, mamma," broke in Birdie eagerly. " We ought not to go and leave Mr. Chessom before the arriv- al of his friends, lie will be terribly dull, I am sure. We really ought not to go. mamma." But Jarvis would not listen to their proposition to remain on his account. "No, no, your ladyship," he told Lady Rozenthal, 'It would be most selfish in me to detain you from the beside of Lady Berkley for a moment longer than is ac- tually necessary. 1 have been such a nuisance," he added, with an attempt to f THE BAXKKli'S GHANDCIIILDUEK. or^ >ne so it pre- think liotber lure to re are read some loke in tog" larrlv- Wrlbly lot to their knt. Lady tsh in 'Lady is ac- luch a jpt to smile, "that surely your kindness and patience must already be taxed to their utmost." Not for the world, he told himself, would he have her Ladyship remain un- til a reply came— providing one came at all to that ratal letter. Birdie sobbed hysterically at parting. "Oh Jarvlfl, there has somelhUij; 1 dreadful happened to yon, has there not".' i — and you said It would be a louj; timn I ere we meet ajjaln,'' slie wiiispered ; "are | you sure of that ? you know I shall come home once a year; and I shall not 'eave England until you hav(! returned there; and you must couie to Morcombo to see us. will you not ?" | Jarvls tried to makt; an evasive reply that would comfort her: and tenderly kissing her bade her jjood bye. Then Lady Ivozenthal came in, biddin<; him a reluctant adieu ; and, after charging hira not to be dull, or ciinuv il ui:til the arrival of his relatives, and giving (Jluip many directions as to takiuj; proper care of hpr charge, her ladyship drew iier daughter gently away, aud Jarvls was alone. He listened until the last sound of the vehicle in winch they were driven died away, and then covered liis lace, and ut- tered a sigh that was nearer a groau. CIIArTKli XXXVI. Ai'ruoAcnix(i thk uknoikmkni. Let us again return to M:iplewooiJ. We left Bertram Wakli-grave in his chamber awaiting, with restless impa- tience, the appearance of daylight. The hours dragy;ed witli such wretch- ed slowness ; It seemed as if tiie day wjis years In dawning, to the inipaiientiy restless man who, llirouixlt the louif liours, either paced gloomily to and fro. like some savage aninnd in its caye, or sat looking moodily out iuiu iliu niglit, iu dreary meditation. He had planned so dirt'erenlly, had dreamed of the happy day when hj dhould bring to his in )thor — vviih wliont Mabel (though the former luid hut seldom seen her) was a lavorite — a beau- tiful, lovini: dauiihter, whose pure love was a fortune, though ^he was herself dowerless. What a mad, foolish dream— what a credulous dupe he had heen. At leugth the slowly rolling hours dragged in the tardy, loaned for daylight ; aud, before any, ex^tpiiuga few ser- vants, were astir, Bertram and Mclnch, his valet, departed. Waldegrave gave one brier, half suvage, halt mournful look towards the great, handsome house, and saw something like a faint flutter of the lace-oruameoted drap- eries about one of the upper windows as he did so. ^t was one of the windows that looked out towards the lawn gates from Mabel's boudoir, a fairy-like little nook, fitted up In rosy pink, like the heart of a rose or a sea shell, with deli- cate festooniugs and edglnirs of frost- like white lace. Was it the touch of Mabel's hands that stirred the draperie?? he wondered ; and, from behind tlie tllmy lace and blush-rose satin, was she watching him depart? He would not deign another glance, though; and tlve minutes later he was driven out of sight. Breakfast was not the most cheery of meals at .Maple wood house thud inorninsr. The hosie-s was nervous aud distrait, the host gloomy and almost silent iu spite of his l)est otforts to be pleasantly ur- bane. Glencora, slightly more negligent in the arrangement of lier morning toil- ette than w.is iier wont, was silent— >ne might almost say sullen— and decidedly, and scarcely concealably out of temper. She glanced up carelessly, half insolently at Mabel, as the latter, who was the last to enter the l)reakfast parlour, appeared. The glance was returned willi a tjulet dignity Miat, had in it a slight touca of dertant hiiUi'iir. liidy St. .Vyvas, growing Impatient at the protracted absence of her hostess' sou, and, having received an iHviiation to spend a lew weeks with a wealthy and aureeable friend residing in New Brentford, and UKjther of two gro^vn up sons — either of them really eligible matclies— who, if th.;y were n »t heir* prospective to wealth as great as the bankers, ..ere, at all events, not stapid enough to run away fioii. the li.idy Winnifred's manifold churuis as the errant Jai vis had done; her Lailysliip de- cided til go, and at breakfa.st annouuced her intention. '• I did not read Mrs. Walsinjjham's letter until this morning,'' sh>' lold her hostess; "but she is so dear a friend, and she so urgently pressed me to go to her that I at once decided to do so. Though," she added, " dearest Winnie and I have enjoyed so delightfully our visit here that \re are loth to leave you." "Aud we," was the reply, "shall be r 94 THE n. I XKF/rs an.\ xncii / /. / > n i:\. very sorry iiuleod to lose you. Gleiiiiie and I have coimt'l so verv nuieh on your reinuii'iii' soino time Ioniser nitli us. lieally," slif coiitiiir.cd. '' \vp <-lia!l be trebly berclt. WalilcKriive li:is nislied away from us so sutklenly, .just when we were befjlnnlri:; to think it iuiptissible to get alonj? witlioiit. iiiiu ; iuul now we are to be deprived of your hidyship and our dear VVinnilied almost a? suckK-nly." , Glencoriv enicrm »1 from her sulks lonj; enough to express her regrets f|iiite civilly. Allerwards s!io exclaiiiietl, with a grimace, to her mother: " TliRuk goodiHJSs ! her ladyship is weary at last of vainly \v..iiin^ llie re- turn of my vajfiant brother. It is to be hoped that lit r elforts to « if^et a uiateh between Lady vViiinilu'd and one ut the yonn;; Wai.^inuliii n's will end less pro- vokiiifily inetileicnt. of course it will be Charles, thw ehh'st, for « Jiom their sails will he set. Von see, there is only a gouty ohl man (»f someihing over sixty winters between him and ;i barouetcy," she added sarcastically. i " How jiro'-okiiij; you are," was the annoyed rctori, of liie yonn,Lr laity's mamma. ■* Von have a most disa;L'reeahie habit, Giencora, of imparling to cvt-n those whom you profess to love, th(! most selfish or men enary motives ftn* their slightest actions. I sineerelv wWw you would endeavor to con<iii<'r ilia*; habit. One would supjose. were they to draw tlieir inference from your re- marks," she added, "that her ladyship was a veritable fortune huntress." Her daughter's arching brows were lifted in an amused fashion. " And if one chanced to be very credu- lous, they might perhaps, were they to witness your indignant astonishment at such an idea, be persuaded to believe, otherwise, my dear mamiua,"she replied satirically. '* iJut yon really cmght, mam- ma, retract that about imparling disagree- able things to those whom I profess to love," she added; "fori never pretend to love anyone; at least, I make no such protestations for any of my own sex " "Not even for your mother; I ara aware of that," was the dry retorlf. Giencora shrugged her shoulders and smiled coolly. " I believe it is always ruleable tr ex- cept present company," slie made an- swer, and the subject was dropped. The gentlemen evinced much regret tliat Lady St. Ayvas and her daughter had deeiled to leave AIap!ewo)r. ,o soon. " vVt' aif ii.rii'cive a vi>-it from the Marq!!'- ,iii'i M:ii-'liione>s of I)ti!il'-at i '" nni f'.ll her Ladyship. " \ e y.iii wotil! l)e h 're when tl ( y 'I'ii' V are verv agrc".'*b e Mr. ('ill- had iKlti' arrived, people." "And we :i'c very loth to leave you,'' was her ladysldps response; "but dear M:s. Wai->i:ii:h im's request for us to come wa-i so nrj:ent. and she is so terri- bly loni'iv siii'-e tile detuh of Marie, Lady W •(h>va!r. who was her only daughter. 1; i- mon- than a year since the aeeiilei'.Miiok placa; vvhi,ih :;aused her ladvsliip'- d' lie : l)nL poi^'Mrs. Walsing- hain ha> n^vi . r. ■covered from Hk; shock which thr sal aft'dr occasioned. She scarcely !•"'(•(■! vi's atiy visitors; but she is very f md of my d anidi'i-r, who, she fancies. hfu-» soiin' resemlilance to poor dear Mav',' : and. ihongii wo shall enj ">y none of tin- j'li'iis.iur. gaiety which has mat! (cai- vi^i' i;ere so delightful, I think we really oniilic to .uo to iier." After 'lie ennelnsion of the inorning mca!. wliilr tin fami'y yet lingered in the bnaikfast parlor, .Mabel stood near a window in ilie farther end of the room, coiiversii:",' ji Ilm- low sweet tones to Lady ^\■iM!iif|■l•;|, v. ho sat idly toying with tlie >ip,ioi ta-sels ot h-'r niorninii dre«-i, 'Ml an oi'o'na i iielween the warm- hui'd velvei curtains. "I am >o sotry you must go, dearest Winnie." May was saying regretfully, I shall miss \<jn sadly, thony;h we scarcely more than .•.,.< a !» to each other nowa- days." Lady Winnifi-ed glanced up (lUickly. *• Do r-.o: iilime me. May," she said. "It is tliiounii no fault of mine that we have not of iare been the same— even more to reacli other thaii we were be- fore — " she hesitated, not wishing to add : — " i>ofore yotir brother's name was dishonoured, and my mother forbade any Intercourse between you anil I." But Mabel fully understood; and with an impulsive gisture — they were hidden from ol)M'i vaiion by the folds of the heavy curtains- bent and kissed Lady VViunifred's while forehead, receiving a loving embrace and a fond touch of the lattei-'s lips 111 return. Lady Wiiini lied looked into her com- panion's pale, calm face, and wondered if she had not I)' en too hasty in judging Bertram Waldegrave the previous night. She knew what it waa to suffer and be Till-: r.A .VA7:/."N (.'UAxnciiii.r^nr.y ;>.) kI with I hidden I of the Id I.ady Iceivinji louch of lev com- Ijndered liuduini,' night. laud he outwardl}' ci.lm and ^:'.y and selfpo.s-' sessed; but .Ma'icl, with tlie f\f(,'plion of slight palcins-!, \v;<s a|)i)ar('i'.tly >o cntirf- ly hL'fsclf— had ciiatttnl With ^uvli care- less pleasantry with Mr. lliinineUon that moruin;;, and ;;aily rallied Mr. Chester- ton — that Winnifred was at a lnss to decid*' wh('!iii'r all thi.s cool unconcern was beins; l»rav<ly actctl, or if Waldt-- jiravc Iiail imiposcd— b- eu r<')i'cted, and in disappi.liitni.Mit auel an:4er at her co- qiiettcri', liaii;;(>ue away. It was dillli'uli. to credit this la^t idc;), for .Mabel had always appeared the op- posite of an unfeeiin^j; co<iuelte. lUit presently Winnifred vcuturctl to .-ay with a slijiht smile : '•How suddenly .^^r. \VaKle:;rav(! de- parted ; yon must have given him a, most decided refusal, May." Mabel mew so deatldy pallid that in I'cniorseful annoyance atiier own tliou;;ht- lessness. i.tt.ly Winnifred threw her arms abotit her, whispering regretfully: "Foririve lU", May, darlini;'; I tIio(i;:Iit he UHist have proposed and been rt j'-eit d by you. I thought, so because he left so suddenly.'" Mabel's now burning face dropped on Lady WinnilVed's shuuKh-r. " I did not reject him," slie nuirmureil in a low, pained voi'-e. "C>;i, L;iuy Win- nifred. I am very miserable." Lady Winnifred started in angry a.ston- ishment. "Is it possible. May, that Mr. Walde- ^rave has behaved so basely /'' slie asked indignantly. ^label started (jnickly from tlie kneel- ing position winch .'^he occupied beside Lady Winnifred at that moment. "Hush I" she whispered; '•[ iiear Lady St. Ayvas UKjuiring about you. I would not for the world be discovered thus ; least of all by your mamma or uiy cousin <jrlencora."' She rose and was lier (juiet self again when Lady St. Ayvas parted tlie curtain aud looked t oldly in upon the twain "My deat," began her ladyship, after A slight cough and a glance of displeast'd surprise iVoui undc;r her liigh brows, which were arched a triflle more than usual, "had you not better assist K.lwina in packing yiur trunks properly. You must remember that we have lifie time to waste, if w'c are to reach Mrs. Wals- ingham's at the time upon which we de- cideil. Tray go at once; you nul^t be iorgetting yourself my dear," she added with slight significance. I.ady Winnifred ro.so, saying tpiietly : " Yes, niamma, I will go at once; only Kdwina has the lace to arraniie on my r-yrtU: green anel mauve silks Ijeforo be- ginning packing. ■' '•I darv- say yon will find quite enougli to fully occupy your time until she has tlnished," was licr ladjship'.s dry re- spouse as she ilvew her daughter's arm through her own, and ^wept away. Mabel wj.s ahjiie In the breakfa^st par- lor now, the rest having left when Lady St. Ayvas and her daughter ilul so. She sat down on the ottoman which Lady Winnifred had occuj)ied, and for a moment her blut; eyes were j»roudly, trlumphautly bri^lit. "How one is despised for being poor," she said contenituously. "Oh, well, I can bear with forlitndt; Lady St. .\yvas' disdainful frowns until \^\ni ibn'jUiKintid, after which I presume both Ernest aud myself will be favoured with hi'r most lavish smiles. "It will bo a brilliant tri- umi)h for the banker's poor clerk and for Ins humble little lister. .Vn<l ii(;t only will it be a triumph for dear I'.rnest, but It will bring love ;ind happiness i) ick to ' hn," slie mused: "but I — oh I I am so very wretched— so very wretched I" She bowed her .head upon the w Indow sill, and vcpt silently. Half ;in hour p;issed, and Mr. Kiuiinel- ton came in se;ircli of a novel which he fancied he had sen lying somewhere in the breakfast parlor, where Glencora had carelessly thrown It. Mabel did uot hciir his footsteps when he entered, nor ilid she kuow when he parted the draperle;- and. looked in upon her. It was his voice that art)used her. " Miss "Willoughby, are you ill or only sleeping ';:''' he as-ked in conciru. Mabel looked up with a violent start to tlnd hhn bending beside her. "Forgive mo for intruding," he said; " I duT not kuow you were here. But, alone ;ind lu tears. What can 1 do for you •'" "X()thMig; there is nothing you can do; you are verykitKi: bull have only a severe liead;iche, anil I am afr;iid I am a little foolish," she h;ud trying faintly to smile. Mr. Rlmmeltou's heart was thumping tumultuonsly. He had been what he fancied was in love a score of times during his four-and- twenty years of life. He had come to win the supposeil heiress of the banktM", and had fallen in love with his iifijlfjn 96 TllK BANKER H GHAXDCHILDUKX. inatend ; anil hlfl fondness for her was about as ardent n feelinu, about as near akin to the yrande passion as anything be had ever experienced- "Poor little lonely thincr,"he thought; " why am I iiu* rich enough to marry her? I womler why the plague that con founded Waldegrave did not propose to her. Perhaps he did, and was rejected; though th.-^t seems scarcely probable. And yet," he mused, "I could have sworn that he worshipped the ground she trod upon; and I fancied she was not wholly indifferent to him. If the family wouldn't get into such an unconscionable rage, as I'm certain ili«y wonid at the very idea of such a proceeding, I'd make her my wife if she'd have me. and be prouder of her a thousand times, with her goodness and beauty, than I could ever be of that black-eyed Juno-like grand-daughter of old Chessom's. But what need I care for the pater's wrath? If he chooses 'o cut me otf with a shilling, why, it will only be a trifle less than my poor, dear, poverty-stricken papa will have to be- ((ueath me in any case.'* All this ran quickly through Mr. Klm- melton's head. He looked down at the lovely, pensive face— forgot that it was a cherished hopn, that he, the oldest of a faniily of seven, should form an advan- tageous all. ance— forgot — or rather was reckless of what his reason— had he chosen to listen to Its vvarninus — would have told him would be the inevitable consequences ot his rashness - and, straightway, offered his heart and hand to the fair girl whom he believed to be an orphan and penniless. Mabel listened with a beating heart to his proposal. He loved her— this hand- some August Rlmmelton— she was cer- tain ot this; und she must wed some- body. It would be but a day or two now ere she would be the acknowledged daughter and heiress of the banker's long lost son. Bertram would hear of It at once, of coarse; and, if her betrothment with Mr. Kimnielton was at the sa-ne time announced, it would be a double triumph. With her riches, her rare, dell cate loveliness she might easily make a wealthier and more brilliant match; but theRlmmelton's were one of the best, if not now one of the richest families in Lancashire, and this eldest son, who now stood before her ploadlng for her hand in marriage, was handsome and bright and clever, and she liked him, If she could not return his love. But on the other hand ought she to wed him, know- Miy: thl.*»— that she did not— never could return the afl'ectlon which he professed for her?" •• Would It not be wrong?" she askcj herself; " and. In any case, I must ask papa's consent ere I accept him." There was a rusMe of silken draperies, which Mabel and her companion were too much en'jrossed to hear, and Glencora swept Into the room in time to overhear Mr. Ilimmclton saying : " 1 have loved you from the first, my dearest Mabel, will you be my wife?" "Good heavens! another proposal,'* mentally ex'.'laliued Glencora. '-I wonder,. is the girl a siren, that she bewitches men thus?" and she listened silently for Mabel's reply The low-toned answer was not all audible to the listening beauty's .strained ears; she could only catch the last few words. " It is so unexpected, Mr. Rlmmelton, pray give me time to consider; only wait until to-raorrow." The listener did not tarry to hear more. She gilded out of the room; and muttered to herself as she swept up the staircase : ♦'Good gracious! and good heavens! was there ever such another creature as that girl Is? Betrothed to two men, end a.sking of a third time to consider his- suit, and all within twenty-four hours. Preposterous!" She went to her boudoir and waited there until she heard Mr. Rlmmelton whistling to the dogs in their kennel; then she went to the library where Mr. Chessom sat reading. "Grandpapa," she said, approaching his chair, '*I have come to speak to you about Mabel Willoughby - to beg you win put a stop to such disgraceful pro- ceedings as she Is guilty of. She Is be- having most bhamefully !' Out from among the curtains of a bow window stepped the gentleman who passed as " Mr. Chesterton." He was smiling, but there was an ominous flash in his clear dark eyes, a slight, haughty curve on his Up as he spoke. "I beg pardon," he said; but I have been reading, and had nearly fallen asleep among those cushions when your entrance and your words aroused me, but—" Glencora interrupted him. " From what ray cousiin Waldegrave « my aited nelton nnel; Mr. THE HANKHIi'S GltANDCHILDUEK. a bow wha ,'as an >yes, a as be I have falleu !n your ccl me, legrave and myself accidentally overheard last niKht," she said turnln<; toward lura, " I think that you, also. Mr.Chestertou, have a right t«» know Mabel us she Is, not as she appears." "May I Inquire what you did hear, Miss— Ches/jioin?" quietly asked the gen- tleman; thouiih he certainly looked sur- prised. If Glencorakuewall, he thought, she surely bore the Intelligence with a marvellous dcj^ree of coolness. The juung lady shrugged her graceful shoulders and smiled serenely. "I not only heard, but saw as well," she answered gaily. '•! saw Mabel Willoughby receiving your erai)races, Mr. Chesterton, and your caresses, as gracionsly as an hour previous, I saw her receiving the caresses and embraces of my cousin Walilegrave, who was infatu- ated with her acted sweetness, and had begged her to become his wile, aud she promised— accepted him. She was Ber- tram Waldegrave's alflanced wife, Mr, Chesterton, when listening to your words in the conservatory last night!" Mr. Chesterton only smiled and asked : "And Mr. Waldegrave, did he witness the bitter scene of which you speak ?" "Yes," she said, "and he as well as myself heard her declaring herself very happy.'" "Then that that is the reason he so abruptly departed, I suppose," Mabel's father remarked with another quiet smile. Glencora bowed in the aflllrmatlve. "May I ask If you have any further charges to prefer against your grand- papa's jjro<<'//<? /"' he asked calmly. Glencora answered with a slightly contemptuous smile. "Nothing moru serious than that— hav- ing received a proposal from Mr. Kim- melton this morning— she has now his suit In consideratl m, aud will give him a decided answer to-morrow. IJy the way I am curions to hear what it will be." lo astonishment and indignation Mr. Chessom had remained silent until now. "Is all this true ?— has Mabel behaved thus shamefully, dlsgracefully?"he asked, " Every word, grandpapa ; her daplicity is much greater than even I imagined, you have been horribly duped like many others," Glencora answered. The library door opened at that mo- ment,and the lady of the house appeared. She did not perceive that anything unu- sual was going on, but exclaimed : "Lady St. Ayras has received the sad- dest of news." " What can it possibly be ?" asked her daughter in languid surprise. She has just got a telegram informing her of the sudden death of her brother, Col. Falrlelgh, of whom we have so often heari her ladyship make mention." " The idea of going to Brantford Is, of course, abandoned then," said Glencora. "That would be most provoking, I sup- pose, only for the pleasant fact that the crabbed old creature leaves her ladyship a remarkably fine fortune." ":Ior ladyship is grieving deeply," the lady replied, with a rebuking glance at her daughter. "It is a dreadful shock- so very sudden." " ' IlarreiUsJfetns snh person^ risnsest,^ " said Glencora with a mocking littlo- langh. "What is it Byron says about being made to wait, • too— too long already' ?"" The young lady's mamma looked posi- tively angry. "I comprehend the force of your last sarcasm, she said : but,, as your tlrst i» unintelligible to nic, of course I fail ta understand." She turned toward her, as- yet unknown brother-in-law. '• Will you translate for mc, Mr. Ches- terton V what does she mean ?" Mr. Chesterton smiled. " Your daughter quoted a Latin pro- verb which is often very beautiful : * The weeping of an heir is laughter under a mask.' " he told her. '•How absurd, Glencora; your remarks upon her ladyship are more satirical than either flattering or just. You have no right to discuss Lady St. Ayvas in her absence as you would not care to do it in her presence," the mother said reprov- ingly- Glencora shrugged slightly and pre- sently asked : "How long before her ladyship starts?" Her mother glanced at her watch. "In an hour exactly." Glencora yawned, and Mr. Chessom. said, turning towards his guest and granddaughter : "Perhaps, then, we had better delay any further discussion of the unpleasant subject broached a few moments ago, until her ladyship has taken leave." "Unpleasant ? — has anything ot that character occurred ?" asked the hostess, with concealed nervousness. " Yes, something that shocks and causes me pain and indignation," she 9S niK UAXKEIVS GliAXDCUJWVKX. livas tolil by Mr. Cho-isom, nnd he added : "It is coiiconiiii;^ Malicl's conduct. " "Indt'L'd, I am very sorry to hear it," was the n'ply, but th«-'rc was a gleam ol trlumpli ill tlie lady's eyes, for all her gravely uttered worils. A W'W more words of consultation and an adjournment was made. " I'ray e:ilii;lit( II me, (llencora : what lielnons rtime lias iliat j^lrl committed?" queried Cilencora's mamma when tht/ two were alone in one of th'? corridors. " Nothing very astonishing, for her; though I confess I was somewhat umazed," was the daughter's reply. *' She has merely accepted two oilers of niarriaye, and lias a tliird in contera- l)latiuii, and all sliiee last evening after dinner." '' Clood gracious !" exclaimed her mo- ther, "are vou positlv o of this, (ileiicora?" " (iuite '" " W!io are the gentlemen, pray ?" " Fir>t, my cousin Bertram, second, Mr. Cuestertou, and third, Mr. Hlmmel- tou." """SU'. Chesterton, are you sure, Glen- cora ?" her moiher inquired with such eagerness, almost ixci'.ement, in her manner, that Glencora started. "Of course, why not ? You must be dull of perception, mamma, if you have not noticed his marked preference for lier from the lirst." "Glencora, how do you know this ?" was the next queslioti ; and Glencora — wondering, and lialf impatient at her mamma's display of intense excitement, which, to do her utmost, she was unable to coi'jeal— repeated the words she had heard Mabel and her father utter t!ie previous night, and described the little tableau as slie and liertram had witness- ed it. "But what on earth ails you, mamma ? are you going to faint i'" she exclaimed as she eudod. The (juestion was unheeded; and lier mother's white lips gasped : "Then that is all you heard ?— you did not hear Mr. Chesterton ask Mabel's hand iu marriage V" " No, I did not hear him ask ' will you wed me ?' ; but we came on the scene just a few moments too late for that. Had we reached the conservatory a little earlier, of course we should have heard the whole impassioned avowal," was the reply in a languidly centemptuous tone, 3Irs. Willoughby was utterly colorless «ow. She swept on, leaving her aston- ished daught(;r standing :dono. The lat- ter .shrugged, murmured petulantly about « traglcs,' and sauntered, with a careles.** yawn, to her boudoir. CIIAITEU W'XVII. '• ALL IS OUT. Subdued voices— a hurried, grave part- ing, and Lady Ayvas and In-r (laughter took tlieir leave. Shortly after, a group, consisting of the banker. Leigh Chessoin, the widow of the real Ernest Willoughby, and Glen- cora and Mabel, met in the iibrnry. " Glenuie, ' began the banker, address- ing Glencora, and glancing slightly at Mabel, who, knowing herself to be on the defeuHive, stood pale and dellant, "will you b'i good enough to repeat the unpleasant facts which you s'ated in connection with Mabe' this morning? I hope," he added, " ihat sht; may be able to oiler som(! suitable explanation, when you have Unished." (Jlencora hid a uflaliclously triumphant little smile by a careless yawn ; and then, in an iudilferent maimer, as if the whole thing were a decided bore, began the re- cital of all she had heard and seen In the conservatory the previous evening, and then of the proposal behind the break- fast-parlour window-curtalus, of which Mabel was the recipient. A swift g'.ance passed between Mabel and her fath(;r, and the hostess grew more ashen white than before, as Leigh Chessom steppeil forward, at the con- clusion of Gleucora's sarcastically worded details, and placing one arm about Mabel's waist, said calmly : " Allow me to save your ward the trouble of explaining, Mr. Chessom. Your granddaughter has given, verbatim, all that she was in time to overhear, be- tween Mabel and I ; but she should have taken the trouble to listen earlier. She is mistaken in believing that I ofl'ered May my hand in marriage. Instead l"-t)Ut Mrs. Willoughby had mechanically risen, and now interrupted him. " I know what you are about to tell,'' she hissed through her white lips. " J shall not stay to listen. Come, Gleu- ccra," turning toward her daughter as she was about to quit the apartment. But that young lady preferred remaining where she was. " I couldn't think of it for a moment. If there's anything hor- rible—as 1 suspect there is— to come out 1 must hear it. My curios. ty is immense,' ' TlfK H.\Xh'i:irs (m.WDCUlLDHF.X. m to tell,'" lips. " 1 |e, Gleu- j^hter as irlment. I'luaining [iuk of it ling hor- t'ome out linense,' ' ■A\'> t<il 1 Ivr 11 '1!:m, und s,), wj-IiMOt !i'':*. ' i\\** l:iily witlnlf'vv. Our timi- u;:i imf pcnnii ih • i wriN; t!ie lonfj iiit<>rvi'Mv thiir, t«>,,!: p) i,-. ;ir:i.i' tlie nhnj[)t witluliMw.il (»r Kni'-it Wil- ' loir_'!ihv's wido'.v, nor o| l*liit!:> ('tie«- ^oiTi's (lt'li,'tit iit onro innir hclKtl'iinn lii« lon;^: l(»>-t son. "Clin it I).'?— and o'm, l/i.,'li: c:in yon over for;^lvt' the ureal wi'on;^?'' wiis his llrstrry. '•That \v;)s Irtii;; wj^n for;:! veil, deiir i'athfr; and \. too, innHt, \)v'^ Corirlveness for niy lieiid^t ron^', boyisii ra-i!ine.ss," was ihf son's reply. A hind el;i-.p, a 1 lok rrorc (doij-uMit than any w.)i'd-<, \va> th( The two -.ills, .^la')ll ( Gleiioora Willoni;!iby — tiie and tlie hanuh'v nstirprM'- sct'iH! with iiit'"is('.sr, inter' r of t!ie i;;t'er seemed i:rouiii'„' whit-T — iier eyes in t f! pas.sioiiattiv hiri'l every, moment. Slie ei»ul;l senreely refrain from utteriDu; a tVaiiMe sci'-a'tiof aniier. Snddeidy a el md shaduWfd the hauk- cr's faee. "O:.! Leiirii," 1,0 s'lld «ornnvfiilly, " what ol Krne-t?" (Jli r.cor.i's silvery voice i»roke in laocldn^ly. "While niy mother's ul of avarice elicits su'''i severelv condemnatory speeches IVo'ii you, Air. (^Iiessom" — lookinij with hidylike insolence at Leiuh, rrorc n-plv. "hessom and iral heiress -witcdied the • r. The face euouijli pniceeded to exlDnerate fuMv his son K'.-n-'st ; ami to i^rove .Farvlw Willongliby LMl I'V. Let us liy hi'lore our readersa btlif -ketch of Leijih C'hessoin's life after lidftlu:; Ivi;,'!and. As l.s ali-ady evident, l/;ii:h did not perish on i)oird tlio fever smiiten ship, fie wa.H terribly llltli Mt;:h— .dm )st dyin:; wlien the vessel lind'd; find for many we(ks no ihou.dit of his recoverim,' was enti rtrtined by tliose vvlio attended him. He did recover. Iio'.vever, •lioiiuh his eoiivalesenee was Wrarvinyly slow and tedion.-; and it was monilis .'iftcr n.'ach- ini.' Mie colony ere lie v/as stro:v. tj aitcmp! worl: ofanv discriptlon. .At lenir'h. thoii,L,'h stili sulleriii'z from bodily we;i!<ne-s— dlsheartend, and near- ly moneyl 'ss. L"i;.'!i went l)ravclv to work, !ind le^f'.iiiely toiled until the news ol hi< wife's sudden death e:iine to him, likcMi terrible blow, stnnnln<r for .1 time, n<'arly every faculty. An l',uulish acijiiairitanee who h-id tiecn a clerk in ihe same hankinir rstaldish- menr, in w!n(di Lf-i;?h, ere he left Eimlaml had been emph) -ed, rtnd 'vho had also visited the iniiiln'.: district in tlie hope of wiiiiiii,' a i'niu.ne, brought to Leii^h the sad intelli!.r''nee. Mrs. ('lics>oni had died suddenly of lieart-diseas". on reailini? the announce- ment of \yyj.\\' as she snoke— •' would it, no be as well | irraot; .ship <ilat to recollect tliat there are others, whose deeds would scarcely tn ar the light'.' Pray what wdl society say, when it learus that it is the ricdi banker s grand- son, and the rich coloniid gentleman's son, instead of tlie former's humble ■clerk, who was expelled from ^Taple- wood house for comuiitlii;^^ a thefc-for stealing a paltry si.x hundred pounds?" death on board the eml- 'ator. After partiiiliy recovering from the heavy shock which the sad news caused Im. Leigh's tlrst thought was of his children— the little .Tarvis and Glenconi, whose nrvmes were afterward transferred by the widow of l^rnesr, \Villouu;hby to her own cliildreii— and his quondam fel- low clerk — t!!oir.^h underiaking the task with sore reluctance — was forced to ia- "Mi.ss VV'illounhby," LeiLiii said grave-! form him of what he believed to be a fact. ]y, it would have been \s iser had you adopted your mother's C(nirse and with- drawn. I am forced to utter more facts, which will add painfully to what you have already heard. Had y.ju not better leave us now?" "Pray give yourself no unnecessary solicitude on my account. I think I that they also were dead. This latter was of course a mistake, and happened in this wise: The children, to the knowledure of Leigh's Hn^li-ih acipiaintatiee, were dan- gerously id wi'.h scarlet fever; and, the day previous to his taking leave of Eug- laud, he heard — what lie supposed to be shall be able to bear with fortitude any- j true— that ihey had bocii exp'.reu the day thing m«jre you may have to tell, after j before. having sustained, without fainting, hysterics, or anything tdse ridiculous, ■what I already have. I am anxious to hear the rest,"' she told him with defiant .hauteur. Leiyh bowed gravely, and proceeded— ".Vfter that double loss," Leigh told his father, 'I gave up all idea oi ever re- turning to I'^niiland. I was fortunate in nearly everv business transaction which I entered into. I succeeded in almost everything— so far as accumulati g .i.;h- J(I0 THE HASKKWS GUAynClIILDIiKX. CM wont— wlibh I undertook. Hut I would linve cbecrfully to.ssud lo tl.e wind^ all thu wealth wlilcli pourud In upon uie, for a lUheot'tlie old ThruuJuuedlu street liapplDVNfl. After many years a lonxlny to return to Kn^lfind Helped me, and, impulsively, 1 started. 1 had no aatlcipation of th'> welcome of fricn Is on my return. I came, and was a str:in;;tM' in mv native land. No one knew me, or reco;{iiu.Hl in Lancel. t Chesterton— ^^ray-Iiai red and chanjjed— the Lel^ijli ('iiossom of twenty years buck, unless excepting; my wife's t»tep-slsier. 1 believe slie suspected my identity from tlie lirst. Fortunately 1 was the accidental moans of savini; the life of Judge llarcourt, a>you are aware. Wc both stopped at the same hotrl. He was genial, jolly, the best of company, and seemed to have taken a liking for myself. He told me that he was a guest at your house, that business had called him for a few days to Lt»ndon, and that be must return to Twickenham in time for the Oiiristmas festivities; and urged me in his hearty, not-to-^e-denled fashion to accompany him. In vain were my fears that I should be au intruder ex- pressed. Said he : "My dear sir, I'll wager tift,y guineas that Chessom will raihisr lose any oiher of bis guests than yourself alter you've been at Maplewood a day or two. And 1 can't think of leaving you here to put this coming merry season throuuh in the dull fashion you were anticipaUng a few hours ago. Come along, and I'll promise you the most genial of hosts, ani the moht gracious of hostesses to be found tbrougliout the county. Mrs Chessom is a charmlogiy agreeable woman ; and she has a daughter much like herselt— all brilliance and vivacity ; only that, la belle Glencora is more unconventional and de- lightfully i>/'/f(ajt£ than her more stately mamma." •'Can it be possible?" I asked; is Mr. Chessom again married ?'' The Judge looked at me, a little sur- prised. "You know Mr. Chcssooi theu," he said. "I was once well ac(|uainted with his son," 1 told him evasively. "How long has Mr. Chessom been married for the second time ?" 1 asked. "You are mistaken," he tuld me; "the Mrs. Chessom to whom I allude, is the widow of Leigh, the son you speak of." I nearly sprang from my seat at those words; but the Judge was looking out of a window, and not perceiving me, went on calmly. " She is a beautiful woman," he said; *Mark and brilliant, with an empress-l'.ke statetiness and imperiousness about her, and yet, withal, she is wonderfully suave and ploaslu::." A suspicion of foul play flnshed across my mind. My gentle, goUlen-halreU Grace couM never have grown to be a woman like the stately dame whom the Judge was describing. I quietly (piestioned, and learned from my new liiend enou^li Id cau>e me to suspect what I afterward found was true, that the lady who claimed to be my widow was, instead, the widow of the young artist Ernest Wllloughby. " But you II come with m**," the Judge added, after replying to my several ap- parently casual questions; "and I'll apologise elaborately for dragging you there. We'll reach Maplewood in time for the Christmas ball; and Che<<som will be ^fateful to me lor bringing you to him" " I trusted to my changed appearance to batllo iecognitioii, and caiuij. You did not know me; but yoa will doubtless re- member thu startled look with which Mrs. Wllloughby hist greeted me ou my arrival." To the whole of Leigh's recital Glen- cora Wllloughby listened with such su- preme carelessness that It would have been dllllcult to believe her as stormlly angry witliin as she was. There was a cool. Indifferent Uttie smile on her ruby lips ; and the savage gleam in her rest- less black eyes was hidden by the soft, llutterlug white lids that drooped over them. "So this. • the denouement, Is it ?" she said lightly, when Lolgh ceased speaking. "Well, it has been so distressingly tangled that I am weary of trying to make it ail out; but I believe I fully com- prehend now. It is I who am tiie humble daughter of the humble artist ; and Mabel who is Miss Chessom, the rich heiress. Helgho!" — and she swept Mabel a grace- ful, mocking little curtsey. She turned toward Leigh. "Are you prepared to be mous, Mr. Chessom ?— because I have a favor to ask." "AnytLiug reasonable, which la In my power, I shall be most happy to grant," Leigh answered, with a grave bow. "Then, pray defer explanation and an- magnanl- But, riiK BASKKii's aRAM>('inij>in:y. 101 lUt of weut Bald ; 9-l'.ke Lher, suave tcross iialred J be a . 0) the J (rom ine to rt true, bu my of the I Judge •ral ap- nd I'll ug you lu time jm will you to earnoce i'ou did iless re- Ich Mrs. uu lay al Glen- iUCll su- have torrally was a ler ruby ler rest- the soft, ,ed over ?" she )eaklug. sslugly ylag to ly com- humble id Mabel heiress. a grace- ia;;aaDl- have a lis In my grant* " J m and an- nouncement of this unpleiisniit iiiT^lr «in- til my mother and my.H«'lf are fairly out of England. Will you oblige mo thus ?" "Certainly, Miss Winou«lil»y. I sbonUI be ungenerous If I did otluTwlso, re- membering that you are siirturlng Inno- cently the consiMiuonces of your mother's act." •'Thnnks, I nni grateful for your con- sideration." she answ» ifd caliiily. • But, Gleunif," lulerposi-d ihc banker, •'you need not leuve us. You are as dear to mens when I believed yon uiy grand- daughter; and dear little May will be most glad 'o receive you us lier sister." Glencor uttered a short, scornful laugh. '•If all the world were as generous as you, my dear sir, what oceans o( misery people would be spared ; but, unluckily, such Is not the case ; and I can't lrna<;ine Mabel Chessom -by the way, how oiUlly that sound.s — I eun't possibly iu)a<rlne her as my loving and aft'ectionate fonter- sister, indeed, I should never be so presumptuous. Besides, I am not a pa tlent young person. I could not endure with the fnr'iKiUe which Mabel has evinced, all the snubblrigs and coUi shoul'"fs and supercilious ^-lances which Mabel, i'or the sake of a luxurious home, has su passively sustaiued. I should kill somebody, or connnit suicide, or do something horril)le, 1 am sure. Mv posiilon would be fur nunc intolerable than Mubels has been; for, while she was only a nobody, I should he some- body lar worse than nobody. (Consider, there Is not or)e of my friends of to day who would not regard me wi;h t?ie most withering contempt, after they knew all. But, I dare say, 1 shall be uble to take care of myself I'erhaps your grand- daughter may generously condescend to exert her influence In obtaining a situa- tion as Lady Somebody's waiting maid for me ; or I may even be exalted to the position of a companion. At any rate, ray pride will prevent me from accepting anything more at your hands, my dear elr." With all her waywardness, herimperi- ousness. her prond arrogance, the bank- er was fond of the handsome, queenly girl, who had oeen brought up from babyhood to believe herself his heiress and granddaughter. It Is tiue, there was less real atfectlon in his fondness of her than In his tender love for isweet Mabel ; bat she was dear to him ; and he was trmihh'd on heraccount. He turned toward Mabel, saying: "M.'iy, dearesT,, can you not perauade (Jlennie to tliluk dlfl'crenily ?" May aoHe timidly. There was no thought ot triiiiupli in her kind littio heart. She (oryave the Ill-natured speeche."* which the disappointed girl had so satirically uttered. She advan- ced, laylM'.^ her taper lingers geuily on Glencora's arm. "^'ou are paitdng grandpapa, Olen- Co..., ' she said gently. "KenuMuher, this revelation has not lessened his love for you; you are as ulear to him at tlds mo- ment as you e\er were. You will not ))y rclusini; hU win not accept grieve him, I am >ure, att'ection, even if you thn: o(— others." The Mashing l/.ack eyes met the soft, violet ones in(»r|<iiin:ly, and (i'.encora drew away froi.i , : <• li^ht touch disdain- fully. "Ills geiiero IS of you to patronize,'' she tolil Mut>'^l coolly, 'I'nd, of coiirse, 1 feel ('ulv g .eful and datt^reu ; but really 1 •'" All interruption, in the form of •» ser- vant briiiginf; a It -ter for the master of Maplewood, can.i! at that inonienc , The letter was ii )m Wales, and had been delaytd mauy days. Mr. Chessom tore it open, and drew forth Lady Kozen- thal's note and .Jarvis Willoughby's con- fession, both of whidi he read aloud. ' Toor Jarvi.s," Mai)el said, sorrow- fully, when Mr. Chessoni had tlnl.sbed the perusal of both missives. "He wa« 111 and dlspiriteil at the time her ladyship wrote ; and the letter has been delayed for so many days, lie may be worse, and how cruel he must think us nil." The library door was thrown open, and Mrs. Wlllougliby entered. She wa* extremely pale, lier lips twitched ner- vously, and her nright, dry eyes were singularly wild and glltterii g In their expression. " My daughter come with me at once. Toor Jarvis is dying!" she said in a gasping voice. Glencora uttered a cry, and snatched the telegram which her mother held toward her. i: was from Mrs. Gimp: " Master Jarvis is dying, pray come at once," It ran; and Glencora reaa it; aloud. "Good heavens ! Poor Jarv," she ejacu- lated the next moment, letting the brief 102 77//; BAA'KKii.'^ GRAXDCIU LDUKX. dusp;iu;h fall from her ilugers to the carpet. "Miseries always coaie iu throngs, don't they, mamma ?" Mrs. WiUoiiijIihy liiikovl hi;rarm within th:U of her dniiriiter, anl tiiriud to quit the room, bin Mr. Ci'e.-sor. s voice de- tained her. "Stay," he Sdid, "you "vill start im- mediately for Cwmdiii-oii, will you uo: V" he inquired. "(.."ertaiiily," ropliccl tlu; huly: "does not thiiL tilciiram state that my son is dyinir ?■■ she asked iii thos(! strange, U!i- natiiral totir-s. '•|)iu you uinst not undertake the j'ur- ney aloiio — that is, you and Glene'.na," he told her. Slic smileil bitterly. "I do not liatt r myself that I have any kind fiiends who will care suthci'-ntly for a fallen wretch like myself to take the trouble of acconipanyii.;; me to the sick bed of my dis^raceil, disinheiileil sou," she said coldly. "Aaatha" — it was Leigh who spoke uow', callirg her as he was wont to do live and twenty years ago, when she was his sister-in-law, and they all resided iu one house. "Agatha, this is no time to remember wrongs, however grievous," lie said gravely. I am ready to accompany you to Wales, or to do anything which is iu my power, to aid your sou's recovery. ] Let us hope that there is yet a cliance of which I was suffering. I thiuk there must have been something magical or mesmeric in your touch." And so it was decided tli:it ^lahel, a>- I well as her fa'Jier, sh(juld accompany Mrs. Willoughby and her daugliier to ; Wales: and iu little more than an hour I they began tlio Journey. I A fi'W moin>'ii;s ere tiity s'nrt'.-d. l,ow- , ever, Mabel found time to .-earch in the j corridor lor tiie loVely litth; betrothal j ring which her lover, in his an^rry. un- I faith, had finiig from lil:;i the previous night. Siie — Mabel — uudersisiod all now. '•Dear, dear Bertram," s!i<> whispered j as she caught tlie glea'U v}' ;h" jewelled I circlet among tlie svvecj.ilig lohls of a I curtain, and i'.astily pickeil it iip, slipping , it — after pressing her rosy lips upon it — , upon her Jinger. "How wicked ol me I lo believe him faithlet \ known better." I She arosi.' from her kiieeling po^iticju, I and came lace to face with Mr. Kimmel- I ton. He liad heard thai she was going. I Lo Wales, and was seeking lu;r. "Ls it posftible that you are going,. ' Miss WUlonghby?" he a.vked. "To Jarvis ';*— yes,' she tokl him. "But 1 have not forgotten your ques- tiou, Mr. Rim melton. The turn which events have suddenly taken has expedit- ed my answer. 1 >incerely thank yoa for your honorable proposal; but some- thing has occurred within the last few 1 ndgiit have his recovery. 1 will telegraph to Londou ) hours which renders it impossible for for Sir Egbert Eversly; and if medical aid can save his life Eversly will bring him 'round." Tlie hard look died out of Mrs. Wil- loughby's eyes; she covered her face and burst into tears. •'Heaven knows how little I deserve me to accept that proposal. Besides, 1 should do wrong, in any case, to wed you, knowing as I do that [ could never regard you with feelings warmer thaa those with which I esteem other kind,, generous friends." A servant came to Inform Mabel that your generous forbearance and kindness, j all was in readiness for their departure; r^igh; but, for Jarvis' sake, 1 must ren- and she was hurried away, leaving poor dermyse'f more despicable in your eyes Rimmeltou to bear his disappolutraent by accepting the aid you ott'er me, after with whatever of tortitnde and philoso- all the injury 1 have done you and yours," phy he could muster. Fortunately, for she said humbly. Ere Leigh had time to reply, two love- ly purple blue eyes were lifted to his face, two little hands were clasped pleadingly around his arm, and bis daughter was saying softly: "Poor, poor Jarv. I may go with you and help to nurse him. may I not ? Oh, please let me go, too." "Yoa make the dearest little nurse in the world,'* he told her. "I haven't for- gotten how completely you once cbarm- i>d away a most violent headache Aom the peace of his heart, he was pretty fairly gifted with both. CHAPTER XXXVIII.— A l>KVri£-UKD ltE(il KST. Five weeks have passed since the con- clusion of our last chapter; and Jarvis- Willuughby Is not only still alive, but oa the high road to recovery ; though evei> the eminent Sir Egbert Eversly can do- nothing to cure his totally blinded eyes. The yellow, sprins sunshine was bright there cal or hfl. a^ npauy ler to 1 hour , liow- iii ll'.c* trolhat rv, un- •fvious 11 now. lis of a lipping )t)U it — :l ot me ht huve osithjn, {immel- is goiujj; 2 going, iin. ur ques- n which expedit- luk yoifc It some- lust lew sibie for iBldes, I , to wed d never er than, r kind, )el that )arture; ig poor >iutment Iphlloso- liely, for Is pretty THE BAXKEIVS GRAKDCHILDRKX. 1U3. Ithe con- Id Jaryis- but oni ^gh even can do- Bd eyes. bright and warm on the nioruing whereof we , nervous ;uid excitable uea:'.y every hour write. Jiirvissat among a pile of cush- , during the last two days previous to the ions! in Mrs. Gimp's little parlour. Ernest | day on which it wa.s decided that they Chessom, who has been with Jarvis for were to leave "Wales, the last four weeks, is seated beside him ; "Horrible I" exclaimed Gleucora to her now, reading aloud scraps and various mother, on the cveuiiii,' before they were items from the last copy of the Tinies. to depart. "What ilocs it simuify whe- Mrs. Willoughby pale, sorrowful. su!)-!'her we are rich or poor ? We are dis- dued, saMooking out of a v.-indow. Mabel graced— hedeously disgraced. Let us go was employed upon some trifling work, to France or (Jcrmauy, or somewhere — and Gleucora, thinner than usual, paler, anywhero, so long as it is out of Kug- aud decidedly sulky, was trying to amuse land. Ohidearme, we are oxiled for- herself with a popular novel ; and uow | ever fro.m Twiekcuham. Maumial what and then glancing with savajiu coutempt on earth has happened?" about her. | Mrs. V.'illoughby was writhing as if in " Ilaloa :*■ exclaimed Ernest ; "what is ; terrible bodily torturi'. (iloncora's shrill this;" and he read aloud : " If the heir, | scream brought Leiuii Cliessowi aud Ins or heirs— providing there are any living— ' sou aud daughter uuiricdly to the side of of the late Ernest Angus Willoughby will the struggling, agouiJed woiuau, who, communicate wiih Croftou and Keatiug, . iu a few nuuutcs more, was wholly iu- No. — , Great George street, Westminis- ; seusible. It was more than two hours ter, they will learu something inlluitely ' ere she regained consciousness, to their advantage." | " I have but little time to live, and Glencora dropped her sensational much to do t-re I die. Will some olc novel I bring me writing mattrrials (luicklv?" were "Whatever is the meaning of it, mam- ^ almost her first words alter recovering raa ?"she asked, looking wonderingly at | sensibility. her mother. Has anybody been oI>ligiug| Ten, ink, and paper were fetched. She enough to will us a fortune, do you sup- . asked to be propped up iu beil, aud then pose ?" desired to be left alone for an hour. Mrs. Willoughby looked agitated, she] At its expiration she asked to see rose, and walking over to where Ernest Leigh; aud he came to her side. was seated, read the brief advertisement | " Leigh, iu my wicked avarice, I did over his shoulder. ! your children a grievous wro.ig; but I "lam sure I cannot tell what it means," j am dying now, and I want you to forgive .she said, in reply to her daughter's ques- me, if you can, and to grant my last dying tion; "but I shall immediately write and prayer. You can do so without liann to And out if possible." I you or yours, while it will save my child- "If it were not too good fortune, I ren from shame— disgrace. Will you .should be inclined to believe that there ; promise?" was somebody's wealth just ready tO| "If to do so will be consistant with tumble Into our hands whenever we . honour, ves," Leigh replied. choose to stretch them forth," Jarvisj Mrs. Willoughby drew a deep breath, said. ''But, pshaw! it's all folly to ' and extended a paper toward him. dream of such a thing," he added. | " Here is my dying couless'.ou. It is a "At any rate, 1 shall write," his mother j false one, b Jt not a wicked one. It will declared; and accordingly she did so, re- 1 do no harm— but good— Infinite good,*' ceivlng an answer within a week from ' she said, hastily perceiving Leigh's Crofton and Keeting, assuring her that shocked glance. her son and daughter, providing their] "A false, dying confession I For hea-- identity could be proven, were heir and , ven's sake! Agatha," Leigh exclamed. heiress to a conaiderable large fortune ' "Only read It, Leigh," she cried, eag- whlchfell to them nrom a maternal uncle | crly ; aud I^lgh read it, and wondered of their father's. ' what manner of woman Agatha WlUough- Undeniable proofs were brought for- by was. ward. ?ind their right to tb^ property tully established In a short space of time It was brief, but as clear as if all true. She declared herself not the mother And now came the time to return to of Ernest Willoughby 's children, but a England, and for the rights of Leigh rbeHSom's children to be also established. Mrs. Willoughby grew more strangely school girl friend of their mother's; and asserted that both their parents were dead, that her real name was Geraldln» 104 THE BAXKERS GRAKDCHILDREK. 11 Lesden — which was a fictitious name, of course. That Mrs. Willoughby died long ago she also nfHnned, stating that she lay in an unmarked grave in the suf)erb where she resided at the time of her death. The grave, in reality contained the remains of a female servant of Mrs. Wllloughby's. "I read the advertisement which Mr. ■Chessoai inserted in the 'Jitnes," she wrote, and my ambiiious longing to be- come a rich woman prompted me to com- mit the crime I am now confessing. I passed myself off as Leigh Chessom's •widow ; and I led Philip Chessom to be- lieve that the children of my friend were his grandchildren. 1 did so because I felt more interest ,iu Agatha's children than in those of her step-sister, Grace. When Leigh Chessom returned to Eng- land he mistook me for the dead Agatha, because my appearance was similar to liers. We were both dark, and many thought that we resembled each other remai'kably.'* There were but few words more. Leigh finished the skillfully concocted false confession, and stared at the sick woman in utter astonishment. "Agatha, I should be doing wrongly to allow this. Kemember, you are writing these falsehoods upon what you yourself, as well as the rest of us, believe to be your death bed." She raised herself to a sitting posture and gasped pantingly : " Yon will not conti'adict my confes- sion— -ycu win keep all secret that you know ? Oh ! Leigh Chessom, for the love of heaven, do not be so cruel as to do otherwise!" She was so white— so agonized that Leigh— shocked, and pitying her, acced- ed to her passionate entreaty. "Thank heaven!*' she sighed, "the world shall believe tlieir mother long ago dead, instead of the miserable crea- ture she is still living to be; and they shall be wealthy, and spared disgrace. 1 think I can meet death calmly now." A minister was summoned, and Leigh Chessom shuddered as he beheld Mrs. Willoughby calmly sign, in the presence of the clerical gentleman, her name to the truthless fabrication \\hlch was her dying confe?sion. It was the last act of her life. She ex- pired ere the clergyman left the cottage. After her funeral the paper with her confession written upon it was, accord- ing to Mrs. Wllloughby's earnest request rtad in the hearing of her children, who of course were led by It to believe that ste was not their parent. Jarvls was shocked — grieved, for his mother with all her faults and follies, was still dear to him. Glencora ex- hibited neither heart or feeling. She was amazed, and selfishly glad that the "hideous disgrace," as she termed it, was to be averted. "For mercy's sake ! Then mamma was a somebody or other whom we know nothing about, Instead of being really our own mother. And if she had have lived, why, I suppose we should have been forced to hnve borne her disgrace with her. What a blessing poor mamma — of course its natural to call her thus — but what a blessing that she did not die. as su'ldenly as we feared she was abjnt to, ere she had time to write down all those horrid, dreadful tnlugs In black and white," and Glencora v,'iuced at the Idea. "Glencora, for heaven's sake! let us hear no more such horribly selfish and unfeeling remarks. They are shocking —even disgusting to your listeners, and derogatory to yourself— Jarvls told her sternly. "Selfish! indeed, as if it was not the most s'ilfish thing in the world for poor mamma to hide all those things after afi"airs turned so embaresslngly, making you and I as deep in the marsh as herself." Leigh Chessom touched her arm now, and spoke sternly. "Pe^ice ! you are the most utterly heart- less creature In existence ; and you chat- ter of what you know nothing," he said. An Insolent stare was the young lady's reply, as she turned from hlin. Mrs. Willoughby was (luietly buried In the little gray town of Cwmdaron ; and Leigh Chessom went back to 'rwlcken- ham, and Jarvls and Glencora went also. "I have no right to allow myself to be a burden upon you," Jarvls told Leigh Chessom aud his son. "lam a miserable, utterly useless creature, a blludmole; and after the mean act which 1 allowed myself to be guilty of, I have no right —and feel It to be cowardly to accept your care and kindness. My fate is bet- ter than I deserve. If I am to be blind the rest of my days, my deceased uncle's pronerty will save me from being a de- pendant pauper also. I shall own a fine place in Kent ; and I can go there and live, and if It Is very lonely some tiroes I ought not to wish for anything bettel"." rilK RAS'KER's (ni.WDCUJLDU US \r. ^'My cl«*ar boy," Leiuh said, "do not let us speak or think of the pjisl now. You liav« atotwd hy fi.lly coiiTessing:, tiie while you w«'re nt^aily ctTlaiu thiit, for the mria wlioui you supposed to b« your trrandfather, to know you guilty of {jam - hiinis: with ontf of London 8 wildest yoonj; scapesrsces, wonld be almost certain to rettultiD c««ll'ina down on you his Ueepefit anger." Ernest broke in pleasantly, '•Yes, Jarv, let us think no more about disagreeable things, or of shutting your- self up to perish of vlullness in that groat rambling old house of yours aw.iy in Kent; and don't descant upciu our mag- naniraity, but come back to Maplewood, and let us all be happy," he said, cheer- fully. Jarvis suppressed a dreary little sigh. To the knowledge of the world, there was no dishonour atuached lo his nanu*; and, if he was not the jich banker's grandson, he believed now thai tue wonnan who had usurped another's place, for the greed of wealth ^vas nut, as he at first— as well as others -believed his mother. But a sweet girlish face was ever ris- ing before his sightless eyes; and Birdie Wylde's sweet voice was ever sounding in his ears. If he was not a penniless outcast, he thought bitterly, he was blind — a mere helpless niole. It would be inadoess for him to dream of loving Lady Bozenthars bright, beautiful daughter, henceforth. It was nightfall, after a somewhat tedious journey, when our party reached Mapiewood. Mr. Chessom met them with seme surprise; and (ilencora, as she was pass- ing up the stair case paused to exclaim : "I don't wonder that you look aston- ished, to behold ms here again, my dear Mr.Chessom — she could not to say grand papa — but the most astonishing things have happened. It will take a whole week, I'm sure, for your son to explain all that occured in just one day. Come Artimese. Gracious I how dreadfully .laded I feel," and the young lady went on to her dressing room. " My poor boy. ^how sorry I am for this misfortune which has befallen you," ^ Mr. Chessom sa d, clasping Jarvis Wil- ' loughby warmly by the hand. "And so you are as generously for- ; giving as your grandson, Mr, Chessom It is more— much more — than 1 deserve ' or hoped for," Jarvis said humbly. ' "Not a word, my buy, not a wor»l i-^i tlmt," the banker exclaimed, pressing the young man's hand again ; "but I seo you're looking weary, ;iinl I^iiest is wall- lug to go '.vith \u\\ to your (>lit room. There, take him along, Krnest." He turned then to ki.ts his grand ciauglitdr. and shake lii- son's hand. "An<l what of Mi>. WiliouirbbyV— where is she ?" he liiquirwl. as Krnesl and Jarvis disappeareii. "I have many ihjjigs to tell you wliitli. as Glencora remarktd. -vill take somi- time to relate." .-•ai 1 Leiyh: " let us g" to the library." "But not until yon are rested and havf had some relVe.slnneut, Leigh," the ohi gentleman said. "I am not tired nor as famished as Miss Willoughby has been declaring hersel! during the last two hours of our journey : and my tnind is strugg'ing under so pro- digious a load that I am anxious to re- lieve it at once,' said Leigh. They went to the library accotdingly: and Leigh Chessom informed his father of Agatha Willoughby's death, and th»' singular circumstances therewith con- nected. The banker's astoulshmeut and per- plex'ty may Ije more easily imagined than described. "Am I really to understand that Mrs. Willoughby's children have been deceiv- ed into believing that she is not their mother?" he asked, half in bewilderment. "Really and Irnly. dear father," Leigh told him. "It is a painfully complicated affair." He drew a document from his pock( ' book. "Here is the confession which, with her dying 'reath, Mrs. Willoughby affirmed to be a true one; and her lai^r act was to sign lo it a jflctitious name which she positively asserted to be her real name." " Aed in her last moments then, Mrs. Willougtiby deliberately perjured herself Leigh, ough* you have permitted it ?" "I did so sorely against my will,'" Leigh answered. "At first, like your- self, I was horritied ; but her wild, appeal- ing look, In her passionate entreaty, forced me to accede, partly from pity, and main- ly from fear lest, if I refused, a sudden and violent death might be the result. But I now sincerely regret my weak- ness." Mabel— for she was stil! called so, old Mr. Chessom dechu'! "j that he should «.' 106 THE BANKER'S GRANDCHILDREN. never' be able to remember his grand ■ lilklren otherwise than as Ernest and Mabel, and deprecatinjj; a second trans- fer of tlieir nan>es — nsiiched her apart- ment, removed her travelling apparel, and brushing out her golden hair, and 'lonninga soft half sombre dress of mauve r-ashmere, at down to await the tray of refreshments which she had ordered a servant to fetch. How like a dream those jast few weeks had passe J. What changes! why, it was like a fairy tale. "Dertrafii, dear Bertram," breathed ti»e rosy lips. '• lie .shall know ;ill sDon, very soon. Dear, foolish fellow. How immoderateiy papa laughed wlien he leu rued that he n»i.-*took that liille scene iu the conservatory for one of love-mak- ing, and was terribly j<-alous in eonse- queuce. But oh!"— 'uul May'.s «he«ks j)aled at tlie thouiiht— '• wiuit if in his angty ilisappninime.ut h<! had left Eng- land forcer, or if not already gone, might depart ere he lerirned tlie truth ? Oh! he must know, very very soon.'" Eladali appeared, benring a tray of toast, delicate s[)()nge cake, jelly and a dainty cup of Mocha. "If you pijase, Miss May," said the maid, placing the tray and lifting the D'oyley therefrom," there's a gentleman iu the blue drawing room who begs to see you wlien you are quite lested enougl. lo come down.' " Very well, Adah, I am not very much fatiiiued. 'It'll the gentleman that 1 will >ee him in less than an hour," M.ibel told the maid; antl vviihin that lime she de- scended to meet Hit gentleman whoever he might be. The blue draw lug-room was not bril- liantly lighted; only one or two jets glimmered from a half-lit gassalier. Mabel's sylph-like figure lloated in. ••Mill). -I, dearest ? ' and she was in the iirms of the gtnileman v\ho had r< (juesled to see iM'r. and receiving the kisses of her betrothed, Bertram Waldegrave, lor he it was. "Bertram I and here ^o soon ; how did you tlud out ai>out papa being my father instead o! a lovei '/" she ii. quired with a leasing little laugh. "I will tell you all, darling, only say tlrst that you quite forgive niy churlish iluubts of you, and pardon my stupid jealousy. '\\ ill you, dearest ? lleniem- her, the strong should be merciful."' • V»;»''— with an arch luilc .^ulllc— "only you must promise to never donbt me again." '•Doubt yon again?— never dear. 1 was an idiot to ever do so at all; but, henceforth, the whoie world's evidencs could not make me again cherish doubl- of you, my precious Mabel." Of course, that was not a tithe of the nonsens — such as lovers delight in — tha*. they talked ere Bertram proceeded to relate to hh affianced why and wherefore he had so soon returned to Twickenham. We will explain to the reader in our own way, without any of the lover-like ejaculations with which Mabel's be- trothed interjected his recital. Bertram was driven into the smoke and fog of great "London town'' in a frame of mind that batttes description. For two or three days he wandered aim- lessly about the city, aLtending the opera, the theatre, and fashionable club rooms, in the fruitless hope of llniling some- thing eidivening. Then, worn out. mentally, 11 not physi- cally, he fell ill. A friend was dispatched to Twickenham, and Mr. Chessom im- mediately started for the city. When his great uncle reached him Bertram was feverish and somewhat delirious; and from his sometimes stormy ravings the banker discovered loa certainty what he [ before was tolerably sure was the canst? of his sudden departure! from Twicken- I ham. A few days of judicious medical i attendance and careful nursing brought 'him safely over the crisis ot his illness; j and he was ere long able to listen to his uncle's reciial of the startling thingv which transpired on the day of his (Ber- tram's) leave of Maplewood. The young man'.s convalesence was noi tardy ufier that, in a short, time he was strong enough to be carried hack to Twickenham, where he remained until the return of our party from Wales, Mr. (/Iiess jin saying nothing iu his let- ters to hi.'t son, while in Cwmdaron, of Bertram's having come back, as he wish- ed for a pleasant surprise to be given hi.s grand-daughter. Lady St. Avvas was more chagrined than she would have can-d tu admi:: when she was made aware of ad that, took place iu the aU'airs of the rich bank- er afier she left Maplewood. Indeed, the news reachini; her soon after learn- ing, >vith bitter disappointment, ih.tt her eccentric orother, Col. Fairlei^jh, had bequeathed lo Harvev Fairleigh— instead THE BANKER'S fiBANDCHILDREN. 107 i;e was lliiue he |\)ack to \\ uiitiJ Wales, his let- iron, ot le wish- lv«ia his |a{;rine<i ailmi' Ih bunk- llndeed, I earn - |h It her 111, haa liiistca I of to Lady Wiifnifred St. Ayvas, to whom he only willed a handsome legacy —the bulk of his large fortune, her lady- ship grew quite hysterical. She was decidedly upset, and very much out of humor for som« time after. "Such a horrible deception that woman has practised all these years! Is it not preposterous, luy dear ?" she exclaimed, addressing Lady VVinnifred. and »peak ing of the deceased woman whom, so very short a time previous she hud been wont to address "dearest Mrs. Ciiessom" and "my dear friend." " An unheard of tiling, really; and the most wicked part of it ail was giving to her friend's child.en the birthright of okl Mr. Ches- som's grandchildren. What a bless- ing that Jiiivis and Glencora have iiad a fortune bi(|ueallied them. It Would have been a dreadful shock to have fallen from so magniflcent a position to real poverty, especially now that Jarvisis bliiul ; but, of course, their Ibrlune is trifling compared with what will fall to Leigh (.'nessom's cliildren fnnn their grandfather, not to mention the immense wealth which their lather possesses. It v.-, Uie most startling afluir I ever heard of. Dear ine,l wonder will that woman ever be able to rest in her grave after all the dreadful thiniis she has been guilty of ? Oi course, slie would never in the world hive repented and confess- ed; anil had she not been forced to ac- knowledge, w hy, of course, the reai heirs would always hare been deprived of their rights." Her daughter answered calmly : "I im glad that the real heirs are no longer deprived t)f their rights. 1 fancy," she added, with a touch of satiri cal contempt, such as she rarely evinced, "that this sudden change in tin; order of things will occasion a vvouderlul revolu- tion in the feelings ajd sympathies of Mr. Chessoin's friends. One can picture It all without difficulty— the ho.-,ls of smiles, and bows, and painfully pressing invitations. Sweet little Mabel,— the looked-down upon dependent— will be a reigning belli , the recipient of number- less otters from numberless swains, who will eagerly fling the titles which they are unable to keep at her feet, be^eech- ing for that pretty little hand of hers. And her brother— oh, he will be speedily metamorphosed from the penniless, dls- hoMored clerk into the most eligible match in Twickenham. Shall I him nuw, mamma ?" angle for Her ladyship visibly wlDced, and ans- wered dryly, with a heightening of color beneath her rouge : '•Angle ? Really, I should hope that my daughter would never forget her dig- nity .so far as to condescend to angle for any man." The lady glanced furtively at her ilaughter. "If he loves you as devotedly as he professed a short lime since," she added, "he will, no doubt, again sue for your hand." "And provided he does so, now that he is rich enough to pay fo.- his bride, I may accept him, 1 suppose," VVinnifred asked (juietly. "Now that his position is such as to warrant his asking, if he chooses, for your hand in marriage, I should not withhold ray consent, were he to do so," hei mother calmly told her. Winnifred picked up the embroidery which she had let fall in her lap, with a feeling, inspireil by her mamma's words, that was akin to angry disgust. It was so much in the language of slang— like hau<ling her over to the highest bidder. "The joung man has also been fully exonerated from the charge of taking that paltry sum of money — six hundred pounds, wasn't it ? — by his father's un- deniably proving that the identical bank notes which were missing were paid by somebody, whose name is not meutiuiei, to a fast young scion of a broken-down family— I am so stupid as to forget the name — for the cancelling of a gambling debt in Loudon, on a certain day upon whicli it was known throughout the whole banking house that Ernest Ches- som was on a business tr^p here to Islington. Very absurd ol old Mr. Ches- som to suspect him at all. I very much wonder that he did not — as 1 am inclined to do suspect Jarvis of abstracting the amount from the flrst." "But why do you suspect Jarvis?" (lueried Winnifred •*I don't think there could have been anyone else to take the money, is my reason for suspecting him, though 1 would not, for worlds, mention my sus- picions abroad ; besides, would it not be much easier to suspect Jarvis, who is —or rather was • wild, and drank, and, I have undtrstood, sometimes gambled heavily, than Ernest, who is so steady and honorable." "But mamma, I thought that thl^ young man, wko has passed for so long T» 108 77//; iuxkj:u\< ah'AXDcniLimES. as Mr. Chessora's grandson, stood high i but there is ono whose^oft touch soein- In your estimation. You have many | the most cooliui; to his feverish for. - times told me that you coahl not wish head, whose pressun;. more ihau all anything more advantageous for me than others, is soothing to him. an alliance with him. You nevt-r before! She is bon«11n<: beside him now, in tin mentioned to me that he was fast or i shadowy siciv chamber : aud she listoiM gambled, or that he was not honourable . ; wliile Jarvis mu'ters : but always the contrary," Winnifred told | "Birdie I my ^weet little Birdie! win' her mother, with a steady glance that' will you have urown to he like in those annoyed and somewhat disconcerted her') three years, I wonder. Ah I I shall never ladyship. j know. lam a misenible, l)lind wretch. '•How oddly you put things Winnie,"' ' Oh ! Birdie I Birdie ! you will never know she said, with a languidly surprised : —for I dare not ever tell you — how dear- glance in return. "Of course there are : ly— how madly I love you— have lovei! very few young men who are not a little you, all these weary years." wild at Jarvis" age. Ernest is a refresh- : ^j^^. j^^^jy ^^..^^,^ \^.^,^ ^^ ^^^^ beautinil ing exception rarelv to be met with, listener grow wondorfullv soft and pitiful : But my dear.- she added, somewhat u^e warmth of a soft blush mantles the abruptly, "I am thinking of living in 'sweet, singular face with its rich tini- Twlckenham. There Is a charming villa ■ i„g of cream and carnation. She touches -Sir Charles Parkinson's. His wife x»\^^^^ forehead with her cool, soft hand. in a decline, and the baronet js going |.^n(, ^g }s aoothed, as if the touch wen- abroad with her. It is but a s.iort dls- 1 mesmeric. tance from Maplewood, and you and i _ ,., ,u^f**i Mabel will be able to visit each other as ., *^or days therj i. bu faintest hope often as vou Dlease •• i ^^'*-'" •''^ recovers— slowly, slowly; but And so Lady St.' Ayvas removed to ( he recovers, and learns that Birdie is bo- »i^ir««h«m anH ««ftip,i in t.h^ ^v,,,^,,,. | Side him-lias been, duHug all lus illne>s. And one day, when the passionate im- pulse, that is stronger than himself. prompts him, he bursts forth, telilnjjher all his mad, mad love of her,— all that he has striven hard to conceal ; and lovely Bertie Wylde becomes his betrothed wife and will not listen to his self reproachef* for being selHsh enough to wish her to Twickenham, and settled in the charm- \ ing villa near Maplewood ; and by her ladyship's unqualified consent Ernest and Winnifred were re inited ; and, when summer breezes were fanning the frag- rance of rose and lily and acacia over the gardens at Maplewood, there was a double wedding at Maplewood house. Lady Winnifred and Mabel being the , . .i . . i r *» i . ,, lovely young brldes-and 'twere iraposi-.'^^^o^f'^^ 'jj'^e of one so utterly use- ble to decide which of the twain vvere Z^'^**^'' °''"*'*^'^' the loveliest— and Ernest Chessom and Months after they are married at St. Bertram Waldegrave the bridegrooms. ! George's, and on their wedding tour visit Harvey Fairleigh officiated as best man j Paris, where an eraminent French nhysi for Ernest, and not long after was him- j cian is operatinir on .Jarvis' eyes with de- self wedded to pretty Rosie Castlemaiu, \ cidedly beneficial results, for he is slowly. who W8S Mabel's bridesmaid. but surely recovering his eyesight. Old Mr. Chessom gave way both j Glencora is wedded to a savage-teiii brides, I pered French Count, with whom sluf Bertram took his young wife to the ! quarrels almost iucessantly. home of his parents, after their wedding I Mr. Kiraraelton has. happily married h tour. His father and mother are de- j pretty little heiress, whose settlement- lighted with her. ! are large enough to quite satisfy hi- Ernest and Winnifred are happily set- i family, tied at Maplewood. The banker's grandchildren are th( * * * « * * happy parents of two little prattlers re- Three years have passed since we last spectlvely, of which Leigh Chessom and made ncord, and Jarvis Willoughby is his father are the delighted grandfather ill— it is feared near dying. There are and great-grandfather, gentle nurses about hiin, more than one ; tiik tNt)- 11 / r^.v,/: ' ,H i^** :. * ^»: M *i