His aunt took his face in both her hands, squeezed it hard, and flattened his nose with a grim kiss. After this feat she looked more severe than ever.

'I believe you are right,' she said; 'I believe this arrangement is a special duty sent on purpose for us to fulfil. I had made up my mind on the subject before I spoke to you, but it is satisfactory to know that you both think as I do. When we give way to our feelings, Susannah, we are sure to be injudicious, sometimes even unjust. But duty is a never-failing guide, and-oh! my dears, to part with that darling would be to take the very heart out of my breast; and Simon, I'm so glad you agree with me; and Susannah, dear, if I spoke harshly just now, it was for your own good; and-and-I'll just step up-stairs into the store-room and look out some of the house-linen that wants mending. I had rather you didn't disturb me. I shall be down again to tea.'

So the old lady marched out firmly enough, but sister and nephew both knew right well that kindly tears, long kept back from a sense of dignity, would drop on the halfworn house-linen, and that in the solitude of her store-room she would give vent to those womanly feelings she deemed it incumbent on her, as head of the family, to restrain before the rest.

Miss Susannah entertained no such scruples. Inflicting on her nephew a very tearful embrace, she sobbed out incoherent congratulations on the decision at which her elder sister had arrived.

'But we mustn't let the dear girl find it out,' said this sensitive, weakminded, but generous-hearted lady. "We should make no sort of difference in our treatment of her, of course, but we must take great care not to let anything betray us in our manner. I am not good at concealment, I know, but I will undertake that she never suspects anything from mine.'

The fallacy of this assertion was so transparent that Simon could not forbear a smile.

'Better make a clean breast of it

at once,' said he. 'Directly there's a mystery in a family, Aunt Susannah, you may be sure there can be no union. It need not be put in a way to hurt her feelings. On the contrary, Aunt Jemima might impress on her that we count on her assistance to keep the pot boiling. Why, she's saving us pounds and pounds at this moment. Where should I get such a model for my Fairy Queen, I should like to know? It ought to be a great picture-a great picture, Aunt Susannah, if I can only work it out. And where should I be if she left me in the lurch? Nono; we won't forget the bundle of sticks. I'll be the maul-stick, and you and Aunt Jemima shall be as cross as two sticks; and as for Nina, with her bright eyes, and her pleasant voice, and her merry ways, I don't know what sort of a stick we should make of her.'

'A fiddlestick, I should think,' said that young lady, entering the room from the garden window, having heard, it is to be hoped, no more than Simon's closing sentence. 'What are you two doing here in the dark? It's past eight-tea's ready-Aunt Jemima's down-and everything's getting cold.'

Candles were lit in the next room, and the tea-things laid. Following the ladies, and watching with a painter's eye the lights and shades as they fell on Nina's graceful beauty, Simon Perkins felt, not for the first time, that if she were to leave the cottage she would carry away with her all that made it a dear and happy home, depriving him at once of past, present, and future, taking from him the very cunning of his handicraft, and, worse still, the inspiration of his art.

It was no wonder she had wound herself round the hearts of that quiet little family in the retired Putney villa. As like Maud Bruce in form and feature as though she had been her twin sister, Nina Algernon possessed the same pale, delicate features, the same graceful form, the same dark, pleading eyes and glossy raven hair; but Mr. Bruce's elder and unacknowledged daughter had this advantage over the younger, that about her there

was a sweetness, a freshness, a quiet gaiety, and a bonhomie such as spring only from kindliness of disposition and pure unselfishness of heart. Had she been an ugly girl, though she might have lacked admirers, she could not have long remained without a lover. Being as handsome as Maud, she seemed calculated to rivet more attachments, while she made almost as many conquests. Between the sisters there was a similitude and a difference. One was a costly artificial flower, the other a real garden rose.

CHAPTER IX.

THE USUAL DIFFICULTY.

Maud's instincts, when, soon after her father's death, she felt a strong disinclination to live with Aunt Agatha, had not played her false. As inmates of the same house, the two ladies hit it off badly enough. Perhaps because in a certain imperiousness and hardness of character they were somewhat alike, their differences, though only on rare occasions culminating in a battle royal, smouldered perpetually, breaking out, more often than was seemly, in brisk skirmish and rapid passage of arms.

Miss Bruce's education during the life-time of her parents had been little calculated to fit her for the position of a dependant, and with all her misgivings, which, indeed, vexed her sadly, she could not yet quite divest herself of an idea that her inheritance had not wholly passed away. Under any circumstances she resolved before long to be at the head of an establishment of her own, so that she should assume her proper position, which she often told herself, with her attractions and her opportunities was a mere question of will.

Then, like a band of iron tightening round her heart, would come the thought of her promise to Tom Ryfe, the bitter regret for her own weakness, her own overstrained notions of honour, as she now considered them, in committing that promise to writing. She felt as people feel in a dream, when, step

which way they will, an insurmountable obstacle seems to arise, arresting their progress, and hemming them in by turns on every side.

It was not in the best of humours that, a few days after Lady Goldthred's party, Maud descended to the luncheon-table fresh from an hour's consideration of her grievances, and of the false position in which she was placed. Mrs. Stanmore, too, had just sent back a misfitting costume to the dressmaker for the third time; so each lady being, as it were, primed and loaded, the lightest spark would suffice to produce explosion.

While the servants remained it was necessary to keep the peace, but cutlets, mashed potatoes, and a ration of sherry having been distributed, the room was cleared, and a fair field remained for immediate action. Dick's train was late from Newmarket, and he was well out of it.

To do her justice, Maud had meant to intrench herself in sullen silence. She saw the attack coming, and prepared to remain on the defensive. Aunt Agatha began quietly enough to borrow a metaphor from the noble game of chess, she advanced a pawn.

'I don't know how I'm to take you to Countess Monaco's to-night, Maud; that stupid woman has disappointed me again, and I've got literally nothing to go in. Besides, there will be such a crush we shall never get away in time for my cousin's ball. I promised her I'd be early if I could.'

Now Miss Bruce knew-I suppose because he had told her-that Lord Bearwarden would be at Countess Monaco's reception, but would not be at the said ball. It is possible Mrs. Stanmore may have been aware of this also, and that her pawn simply represented what ladies call 'aggravation.'

Maud took it at once with her knight. 'I don't the least care about Countess Monaco's, aunt,' said she. Dick's not going because he's not asked, and I'm engaged to dance the first dance with him at the other place. It's a family bearfight, I conclude; but though I

hate the kind of thing, Dick is sure to take care of me.'

Check for Aunt Agatha, whom this off-hand speech displeased for more reasons than one. It galled her to be reminded that her step-son had received no invitation from the smart foreign countess; while that Maud should thus appropriate him, calling him 'Dick' twice in a breath, was more than she could endure. So she moved her king out of position.

"Talking of balls,' said she, in a cold, civil voice, 'reminds me that you danced three times the night before last with Lord Bearwarden, and twice with Dick, besides going down with him to supper. I don't like finding fault, Maud, but I have a duty to perform, and I speak to you as if you were my own child.'

'How can you be sure of that?' retorted incorrigible Maud. 'You never had one.'

This was a sore point, as Miss Bruce well knew. Aunt Agatha's line of battle was sadly broken through, and her pieces huddled together on the board. She began to lose her head, and her temper with it.

'You speak in a very unbecoming tone, Miss Bruce,' said she, angrily. 'You force me into saying things I would much rather keep to myself. I don't wish to remind you of your position in this house.'

It was now Maud's turn to advance her strongest pieces-castles, rooks, and all.

You remind me of it often enough,' she replied, with her haughtiest air--an air which, notwithstanding its assumption of superiority, certainly made her look her best; if not in words, at least in manner, twenty times a day. You think I don't see it, Mrs. Stanmore, or that I don't mind it, because I've too much pride to resent it as it deserves. I am indebted to you, certainly, for a great deal the roof that shelters me, and the food I eat. I owe you as much as your carriagehorses, and a little less than your servants, for I do my work and get no wages. Never fear but I shall pay up everything some day; perhaps very soon. You had better

get your bill made out, so as to send it in on the morning of my departure. I wish the time had come to settle it now.'

Mrs. Stanmore was aghast. Very angry, no doubt, but yet more surprised, and perhaps the least thing cowed. Her cap, her laces, the lockets round her neck, the very hair of her head, vibrated with excitement. Maud, cool, pale, impassible, was sure to win at last, waiting, like the superior chess player, for that final mistake which gives an adversary checkmate.

It came almost immediately. Mrs. Stanmore set down her sherry, because the hand that held her glass shook so she could not raise it to her lips. You are rude and impertinent,' said she; 'and if you really think so wickedly, the sooner you leave this house the better, though you are my brother's child; andand-Maud, I don't mean it. But how can you say such things? I never expected to be spoken to like this.'

Then the elder lady began to cry, and the game was over. Before the second course came in, a reconciliation took place. Maud presented a pale, cold cheek to be kissed by her aunt; it was agreed that, they should go to Countess Monaco's for the harmless purpose, as they expressed it, of 'just walking through the rooms,' leaving thereafter as soon as practicable for the ball; and Mrs. Stanmore, who was goodhearted if bad-tempered, trusted 'dear Maud would think no more of what she had said in a moment of irritation, but that they would be better friends than ever after their little tiff.'

None the less, though, for this decisive victory did the young lady cherish her determination to settle in life without delay. Lord Bearwarden had paid her considerable attention on the few occasions they had met. True, he was not what the world calls a 'marrying man;' but the world, in arranging its romances, usually leaves out that very chapter, the chapter of accidents, on which the whole plot revolves. And why should there not be a Lady Bear warden of the pre

sent as of the past? To land so heavy a fish would be a signal triumph. Well, it was at least possible, if not probable.

This should be a matter for future consideration, and must depend greatly on circumstances.

Oh,

In the mean time, Dick Stanmore would marry her to-morrow. Of that she felt sure. Why? because she did! I believe women seldom deceive themselves in such matters. Dick had never told her he cared for her; after all, she had not known him many weeks, yet a certain deference and softness of tone, a diffidence, and even awkwardness of manner, increasing painfully when they were alone, betrayed that he was her slave. And she liked Dick, too, very much, as a woman could hardly help liking that frank and kindly spirit. She even thought she could love him if it was necessary, or at any rate make him a good wife, as wives go. He would live in London, of course, give up hunting and all that.

It really might do very well. Yes, she would think seriously about Dick Stanmore, and make up her mind without more delay.

But how to get rid of Tom Ryfe? Ignore it as she might strive as she would to forget it in excitement, dissipation, and schemes for the future, none the less was the chain always round her neck. Even while it ceased to gall her she was yet sensible of its weight. So long as she owed him money, so long as he held her written promise to repay that debt with her hand, so long was she debarred all chances for the future, so long was she tied down to a fate she could not contemplate without a shudder.

To

be a Mrs. Ryfe' when on the cards lay such a prize as the Bearwarden coronet, when she need only put out her hand and take Dick Stanmore, with his brown locks, his broad shoulders, his genial, generous heart, for better or worse! It was unbearable. And then to think that she could ever have fancied she liked the man; that, even now, she had to give him clandestine meetings, to see him at

unseasonable hours, as if she loved him dearly, and was prepared to make every sacrifice for his sake! Her pride revolted, her whole spirit rose in arms at the reflection. She knew he cared for her too; cared for her in his own way very dearly; and C'est ce que c'est d'être femme,' I fear she hated him all the more! So long as a woman knows nothing about him, her suspicion that a man likes her is nine points out of ten in his favour; but directly she has fathomed his intellect and probed his heart; squeezed the orange, so to speak, and resolved to throw away the rind, in proportion to the constancy of his attachment will be her weariness of its duration; and from weariness in such matters there is but one short step to hatred and disgust.

Tom Ryfe must be paid his money. To this conclusion, at least, Maud's reflections never failed to lead. Without such initiatory proceeding it was useless to think of demanding the return of that written promise. But how to raise the funds? After much wavering and hesitation, Miss Bruce resolved at last to pawn her diamonds. So dearly do women love their trinkets, that I believe, though he never knew it, Tom Ryfe was more than once within an ace of gaining the prize he longed for, simply from Maud's disinclination to part with her jewels. How little he dreamt that the very packet which had helped to cement into intimacy his first acquaintance with her, should prove the means of dashing his cherished hopes to the ground, and raising yet another obstacle to shut him out from his lovely client!

While Maud is meditating in the back drawing-room, and Aunt Agatha, having removed the traces of emotion from her eyes and nose, is trying on a bonnet up-stairs, Dick Stanmore has shaken off the dust of a railway journey, in his lodgings, dressed himself from top to toe, and is driving his phaeton merrily along Piccadilly, on his way to Belgrave Square. How his heart leaps as he turns the wellknown corner-how it beats as he skips into his stepmother's house

how it stops when he reaches the door of that back drawing-room, where, knowing the ways of the establishment, he hopes to find his treasure alone! The colour returns to his face. There she is in her usual place, her usual attitude, languid, graceful, indolent, yet glad to see him nevertheless.

'I'm in luck,' says Dick, blushing like a schoolboy. My train was late, and I was so afraid you'd be gone out before I could get here. It seems so long since I've seen you. And where have you been, and how's my mother, and what have you been doing?"

'What have you been doing, rather?' repeats the young lady, giving him a cool and beautiful hand, that he keeps in his own as long as he dares. Three days at Newmarket are long enough to make "a man or a mouse," as you call it, of a greater capitalist than you, Mr. Stanmore. Seriously, I hope you've had a good week.'

'Only lost a pony on the whole meeting,' answered Dick, triumphantly. And even that was "fluke," because Bearwarden's Bacchante filly was left at the post.'

a

'I congratulate you,' said Maud, with laughter gleaming in her dark eyes. 'I suppose you consider that tantamount to winning. Was Lord Bearwarden much disappointed, and did he swear horribly?'

'Bearwarden never swears,' replied Dick. He only told the starter he wondered he could get them off at all; for it must have put him out sadly to see all the boys laughing at him. I've no doubt one or two were fined in the very next race, for the official didn't seem to like it.'

Maud pondered. 'Is Lord Bearwarden very good-tempered?' said she.

'Well, he never breaks out,' answered Dick. But why do you want to know?"

Because you and he are such friends,' said this artful young lady. 'Because I can't make him outbecause I don't care whether he is or not! And now, Mr. Stanmore, though you've not been to see your

mamma 'yet, you've behaved like a good boy, considering; so I've got a little treat in store for you. Will you drive me out in your phaeton?"

'Will a duck swim?' exclaimed Dick, delighted beyond measure, with but the one drawback to supreme happiness, of a wish that his off horse had been more than twice in harness.

'Now before I go to put my bonnet on,' continued Miss Bruce, threatening him with her finger like a child, 'you must promise to do exactly what you're told-to drive very slow and very carefully, and to set me down the instant I'm tired of you, because Aunt Agatha won't hear of our going for more than half an hour or so, and it will take some diplomacy to arrange even that.'

Then she tripped upstairs, leaving the door open, so that Dick looking at himself in the glass, wondering, honest fellow, what she could see in him to like, and thinking what a lucky dog he was, overheard the following conversation at the threshold of his stepmother's chamber, on the floor above.

A light tap-a smothered Who': there?' and the silvery tones of the voice he loved

'Aunt Agatha-may Mr. Stanmore drive me to Rose and Brilliant's in his phaeton?'

Something that sounded very like Certainly not.'

'But please, Aunt Agatha,' pleaded the voice, 'I've got a headache, and an open carriage will do me so much good, and you can call for me afterwards, wherever you like, to do our shopping. I shan't be five minutes putting any bonnet on, and the wind's changed and it's such a beautiful day!'

Here a door opened, whispers were exchanged, it closed with a bang, a bell rang, an organ in the street struck up The Marseilla'so,' and ere it had played eight bars, Maud was on the stairs again, lɔɔking, to Dick's admiring eyes, like an angel in a bonnet coming straight down from heaven.

In after days he often thought of that happy drive-of the pale, benutiful face in its transparent little bonnet, turned confidingly upwards to his