■'i 
 
 IMAGE EVALUATION 
 TEST TARGET (MT-3) 
 
 // 
 
 .^/ 
 
 ^ J^ie. 
 
 
 
 J 
 
 :/ 
 
 ^6 
 
 1.0 
 
 I.I 
 
 1.25 
 
 1 2.5 
 
 1.4 11.6 
 
 I 
 
 '4 
 
 Va 
 
 A 
 
 
 'V 
 
 o 
 
 7 
 
 Photographic 
 
 Sciences 
 
 Corporation 
 
 93 west MAIN STRUT 
 
 V. «BSTER, NY. MSSO 
 
 (716) 872-4S03 
 
 €3 
 
 ,-\ 
 
 .^\^ 
 
 \\ 
 
 A 
 
 V 
 
 
 o^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 «!• 
 
 % 
 

 Z 
 
 
 
 CIHM/ICMH 
 
 Microfiche 
 
 Series. 
 
 CIHM/ICMH 
 Collection de 
 microfiches. 
 
 Canadian Institute for Historical Microreproductions / Institut Canadian de microreproductions historiques 
 
Technical and Bibliographic Notes/Notes techniques et bibiiographiques 
 
 The institute has attempted to obtain the best 
 original copy available for filming. Features of this 
 copy which may be bibliographically unique, 
 which may alter any of the images in the 
 reproduction, or which may significantly change 
 the usual method of filming, are checked below. 
 
 Coloured covers/ 
 Couverture de couleur 
 
 r~p] Covers damaged/ 
 
 n 
 
 n 
 
 D 
 
 n 
 
 Couverture endommagie 
 
 Covers restored and/or laminated/ 
 Couverture restaurAe et/ou pelliculAe 
 
 Cover title missing/ 
 
 Le titre de couverture manque 
 
 I I Coloured maps/ 
 
 Cartes gAographiques en couleur 
 
 Coloured ink (i.e. other than blue or black)/ 
 Encre de couleur (I.e. autre que bleue ou noire) 
 
 I I Coloured plates and/or illustrations/ 
 
 Planches et/ou illustrations en couleur 
 
 Bound with other material/ 
 ReliA avec d'autres documents 
 
 Tight binding may cause shadows or distortion 
 along interior margin/ 
 
 La reliure serrde peut causer de I'ombre ou de la 
 distortion le long de la marge intirieure 
 
 Blank leaves added during restoration may 
 appear within the text. Whenever possible, these 
 have been omitted from filming/ 
 II se peut que certaines pages blanches ajoutAes 
 lors d'une restauration apparaissent dans le texte. 
 mais, lorsque cela 6tait possible, ces pages n'ont 
 pas AtA filmAes. 
 
 Additional comments:/ 
 Commentaires supplAmentaires: 
 
 L'lnstltut a microfiim6 le meilleur exemplaire 
 qu'il lui a 6X6 possible de se procurer. Les details 
 de cet exemplaire qui sont peut-€tre un'ques du 
 point de vue bibliographique, qui peuvent modifier 
 une image reproduite, ou qui peuvent exiger une 
 modification dans la mithode normale de filmage 
 sont indiquAs ci-dessous. 
 
 I I Coloured pages/ 
 
 Pages de couleur 
 
 Pages damaged/ 
 Pages endommagtes 
 
 □ Pages restored and/or laminated/ 
 Pages restaurAes et/ou pellicul6es 
 
 r~^ Pages discoloured, stained or foxed/ 
 \Jl} Pages d6colortes, tachetAes ou piqu6es 
 
 □ Pages detached/ 
 Pages ditachies 
 
 Showthrough/ 
 Transparence 
 
 Quality of prir 
 
 Quality InAgale de i'impression 
 
 Includes supplementary materii 
 Comprend du mat6riel suppl^mentaire 
 
 Only edition available/ 
 Seule Edition disponible 
 
 Th 
 to 
 
 Tl- 
 pc 
 of 
 fil 
 
 Oi 
 be 
 th 
 si( 
 ot 
 fir 
 sic 
 or 
 
 r~~y Showthrough/ 
 
 I I Quality of print varies/ 
 
 |~~| Includes supplementary material/ 
 
 I — I Only edition available/ 
 
 Th 
 sh 
 Til 
 
 wl 
 
 IVIi 
 dh 
 en 
 
 "( 
 rei 
 mi 
 
 D 
 
 Pages wholly or partially obscured by errata 
 slips, tissues, etc., have been refilmed to 
 ensure the best possible image/ 
 Les pages totalement ou partiellement 
 obscurcies par un feuillet d'errata, une pelure, 
 etc.. ont 6X6 film^es 6 nouveau de fa9on 6 
 obtanir la meilieure image possible. 
 
 This item is f'tmed at the reduction ratio checked below/ 
 
 Ce document est filmA au taux de rMuction indiqu6 ci-dessous. 
 
 10X 
 
 
 
 
 14X 
 
 
 
 
 18X 
 
 
 
 
 22X 
 
 
 
 
 26X 
 
 
 
 
 XX 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 / 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 12X 
 
 
 
 
 16X 
 
 
 
 
 20X 
 
 
 • 
 
 
 24X 
 
 
 
 
 28X 
 
 
 
 
 32X 
 
 
:ails 
 
 du 
 
 >difier 
 
 una 
 
 nage 
 
 The copy filmed here has been reproduced thanks 
 to the generosity of: 
 
 Harold Campbell Vaughan Memorial Library 
 Acadia University 
 
 The ima^as appearing here are the best quality 
 possible considering the condition and legibility 
 of the original copy and in keeping with the 
 filming contract specifications. 
 
 L'exempiaire fllm6 fut reproduit gr&ce d la 
 g6n6rosit6 de: 
 
 Harold Campbell Vaughan Memorial Library 
 Acadia University 
 
 Les images suivantes ont M reproduites avec le 
 plus grc:^d soin, compte tenu de la condition et 
 de la netteti de l'exempiaire f ilm6, et en 
 conformity avec les conditions du contrat de 
 filmage. 
 
 Original copies in printed paper covers are filmed 
 beginning with the fiont cover and ending on 
 the last page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, or the back cover when appropriate. All 
 other original copies are filmed beginning on the 
 first page with a printed or illustrated impres- 
 sion, and ending on the last page with a printed 
 or illustrated impression. 
 
 Les exemplaires originaux dont la couverture en 
 papier est imprimto sont film6s en commen^ant 
 par le premier plat et en terminant soit par la 
 dernidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration, soit par le second 
 plat, salon le cas. Tous les autres exemplaires 
 originaux sont film^s en commenpant par la 
 premidre page qui comporte une empreinte 
 d'impression ou d'illustration et en terminant par 
 la dernidre page qui comporte une telle 
 empreinte. 
 
 The last recorded frame on each microfiche 
 shall contain the symbol ^^> (meaning "CON- 
 TINUED "), or the symbol V (meaning "END"), 
 whichever applies. 
 
 Un das symboles suivants apparaftra sur la 
 dernidre image de cheque microfiche, selon le 
 cas: le symbole — ► signifie "A SUIVRE ", le 
 symboie V signifie "FIN". 
 
 Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at 
 different reduction ratios. Those too large to be 
 entirely included in one exposure are filmed 
 beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to 
 right and top to bottom, as many frames as 
 required. The following diagrams illustrate the 
 method: 
 
 Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc.. peuvent Atre 
 film6s d des taux de reduction diffdrents. 
 Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre 
 reproduit en un seul clich6. il est film6 d partir 
 de Tangle sup6rieur gauche, de gauche d droite. 
 et de haut en bas. en prenant le nombre 
 d'images n6cessaire. Les diagrammes suivants 
 illustrent la m6thode. 
 
 rrata 
 
 CO 
 
 pelure, 
 n A 
 
 n 
 
 32X 
 
 1 
 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 1 2 3 
 
 4 5 6 
 
■ t-«'5^7?SnB.^i%f7Ti:? "»' __ .-sjF^,* 
 
 N 
 
 wr m^A m nioKBsoN^ 
 
 or #<XQt$6«0OK, K. B. 
 
 «ii l n » ■». 
 
 A 
 
 ST. iWHN, N. B. : 
 
 PRINTED AND PtBUSHBD BT G1«0. W. 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