66 "If it were to come over inward argument so often renewed. again, I would do just the same. Greater love hath no man than this,' "" for in his semi-delirious hours those Divine words seemed to set themselves to solemn music, and to echo in his brain with ceaseless repetition. A life given, a life laid down, a life spent in suffering-is it not all the same-a soldier's duty? Shall I shirk my fate? Would it not be better to bear it like a man? And Michael would set his teeth hard, and with an inward prayer for patience-for in the struggle the man was learning to pray-girded himself up again to the daily fight. Once, when there had been a fresh outbreak of mischief, and they had brought him down to Woodcote, that he might be more carefully nursed than in the town lodgings which was all Michael Burnett called home, Audrey, who, after her usual pitiful fashion, wore herself out in her efforts to soothe and comfort the invalid, once read to him some beautiful lines out 66 of a poem entitled The Disciples." Michael, who was in one of his dark moods, made no comment on the passage that she had read in a trembling voice of deep feeling; but when she left the room on some errand, he stretched out his hand, and read over the passage again: 'But if, impatient, thou let slip thy cross, When Audrey returned the book was in its place, and Michael was lying with his eyes closed, and the frown of pain still knitting his temples. He was not asleep, but she dare not disturb him by offering to go on with the poem. She sat down at a little distance and looked out of the window rather sorrowfully. How strong she was! how full of health and enjoyment! and this poor Michael, who had acted so noblyAudrey's eyes were full of tears. And all the time Michael was saying to himself, "After all, I am a coward. What if I must suffer? Life will not last forever." By and by Michael owned that even his hard lot had compensation. He became used to his semi-invalid existence. Active work of any sort was impossible-that is continuous work. He had tried it when his friends had found an easy post for him, and had been obliged to give it up. He still suffered severely from neuralgic headaches that left him worn and exhausted. His maimed leg often troubled him; he could not walk far, and riding was impossible. "You must make up your mind to be an idle man—at least, for the present, Captain Burnett," one of his doctors had said to him, and Michael had languidly acquiesced. To be a soldier had been his one ambition, and he cared for little else. He had enough to keep him in moderate comfort as a bachelor, and he had faint expectations from an uncle who lived in Calcutta; but when questioned on this point, Michael owned he was not sanguine. 66 66 My uncle Selkirk is by no means an old man, " he would say. Any insurance office would consider his the better life of the two. Besides, he might marry, he is not sixty yet; even old men make fools of themselves by taking young wives. is ill waiting for dead men's shoes at the best of times. In this case it would be rank stupidity." 66 Then you It will never be able to marry, Michael;" for it was to Mrs. Ross that this last speech was addressed. 66 My dear cousin, do you think any girl would look at a sickly, ill-tempered fellow like me?" was the somewhat bitter reply; and Mrs. Ross's kind heart was troubled at the tone. You should not call yourself names, my dear. You are not ill-tempered. No one minds a little crossness now and then. Even John can say a sharp word when he is put out. I think you are wrong, Michael. You are rather morbid on this point. They say pity is akin to love." "But I object to be pitied," he returned, somewhat haughtily; and what is more, I will commend myself to no woman's toleration. I will not be dominated by any weaker vessel. If I should ever have the happiness of having a wife -but there will be no Mrs. Michael Burnett, Cousin Emmeline-I should love her as well as other men love their wives, but I should distinctly insist on her keeping her proper place. Just imagine "working himself up to nervous irritation"being at the mercy of some blooming, high-spirited young creature, who will insult me every day with her overplus of pure animal enjoyment. The effect on me would be crushing -absolutely crushing. 66 Audrey is very high-spirited, Michael, but I am sure she sympathizes with you as nicely as possible. 66 66 وو We were not speaking of Audrey, were we?" he replied, with a slight change of expression. I think it is the Ross idiosyncrasy to wander hopelessly from any given subject; 1 imagined that we were suggesting an impossible wife for your humble servant. Far be it from me to deny myself comfort in the shape of feminine cousins or friends." 66 Yes, of course; and Geraldine and Audrey are just like your sisters, Michael." 66 "Are they?" a little dryly. Well, as I never had a sister, 1 can not be a good judge; but from what other fellow tell me, 1 imagine Audrey bullies me enough to be one. Anyhow, I take the brotherly prerogative of bullying her in return." And with this remarkable statement the conversation dropped. Captain Burnett spent half his time with his cousins, oscillating between Woodcote and his lodgings in town. Dr. Ross wished him to live with them entirely; he had a great respect and affection for his young kinsman, and as he often told his wife, Michael helped him in a hundred ways. "" He has the clearest head and the best common sense I ever knew in any man. I would trust Mike's judgment before my own. Poor fellow! he has gone through so much himself, that I think he sees deeper into things than most peo ple. It is wonderful what knowledge of character he has. The boys always say there is no cheating the captain." Michael owned himself grateful for his cousin's kindness, but he declared to call Woodcote his home. 66 "I will have my own diggings," was his answer 66 a burrow where I can run to earth when my pet fiend tries to have a fling at me. Seriously, there are times when I am best alone-and then, in town one sees one's friends. For a sick man, or whatever you like to call me, my taste is decidedly gregarious. I would not shut me from my kind.' Oh, dear, no! There is no study so interesting as human nature, and I am avowedly a student of anthropology. London is the place for a man with a hobby like mine. Nevertheless, the chief part of Captain Burnett's time had been spent latterly at Woodcote. CHAPTER V. THE NEW MASTER. We agree pretty well in our tastes and habits-yet so as "with a difference." We are generally in harmony with occasional bickerings, as it should be among near relatives.-Essays of “ELIA.” BOOTY grew tired of barking at the swans long before his master had roused from his abstraction; it was doubtful how much longer Captain Burnett would have sat with his eyes fixed dreamily on the water, if a tall figure in white had not suddenly appeared under the arching trees, and Audrey stood before him. "I knew where I should find you," she said, as he rose rather slowly from his seat. "I have christened this bench Michael's Seat. How sweet the lake looks this evening! I wish I could stay to enjoy it, but I must go back to the drawing-room. Percival has come; and, do you know, the dressing-gong sounded ten minutes ago, and you have taken no notice of it." "I will go at once, was the answer; but to his surprise she stopped him. "Wait one moment, Michael; I have to ask you a favor. I want you to be kind, and to take a great deal of notice of Mr. Blake. He is very young and shy, and though his mother says he is so clever-and, indeed, father says so, too-one would not find it out, because he is so quiet, and you know how formidable Percival must be to a shy person. "And you want me to take your new protégé under my wing?" he returned, dissembling his surprise. She had put her hands on his arm, and was speaking with unusual earnestness, and he knew, by a certain look in her eyes, that something had vexed her. "You' "He is not my protégé," she answered, quickly. talk as though he were a boy, a mere child, instead of being what he is an exceedingly clever and gentlemanly young man. Michael, you generally understand me-you are always my ally when Percival is on his high horse-and I want you to stand Mr. Blake's friend to-night." "And I am not even to form my own opinion? Supposing the moment I shake hands with your pro-I mean your visitor-1 become conscious of an inward antagonism? You see, Audrey, I am subject to likes and dislikes, in common with other people. 66 66 We Oh, you must try to like him," she returned, impatiently. "I am very much interested in the whole family. always like the same people, Michael-do we not?" in a coaxing voice. "I know the Marquis will wear his most judicial aspect to-night; he will perfectly annihilate poor Mr. Blake;" for this was another sobriquet which Audrey applied to her brother-in-law. They were walking toward the house, but at this point Captain Burnett thought fit to stand still and shake his head with a grieved expression of face. 'My dear Audrey, I should like to see you on more sisterly terms with Gage's husband." 66 "Don't be silly," was the only response; one can not choose one's brother-in-law. The Marquis makes Gage a splendid husband-no one else could have mastered her-but I never could get on with a man who always thinks he is right about everything. Percival is too immaculate in his own and his wife's eyes to be in harmony with a sinner like myself; and I don't mind confessing to you, Michael, that he never opens his mouth without my longing to contradict him." Audrey said this with such perfect naïveté and candor that Captain Burnett could only smile, though sheer honesty made. him say a moment afterward: "I think, indeed I have always thought, that you undervalue Harcourt. He is a fine fellow in his way. I like a man to be strong, and Harcourt is strong-he has no pettiness in his nature. He is rather a severe critic, perhaps-and demands a little too much from other people-but you will find that he always practices what he preaches. 66 "I wish he understood me better," was the rueful response. 'Unhappily, he and Gage think their mission is to reform me. Now, Michael, do be quick, or the dinner-bell will ring;" and Audrey waved her hand gayly, and turned into the house, while Michael and his faithful Booty followed her more slowly. When Audrey entered the drawing-room she found her brother-in-law standing in his favorite attitude before the fireplace he was evidently holding forth on some interesting topic, for Dr. Ross was listening to him with an amused expression of face, and Geraldine was watching him with admiring, wifely eyes. He broke off, however, to greet Audrey, and there was a brotherly warmth in his manner as he shook hands with her and asked after her health-a mere civility on his part, as Audrey was never ill. Mr. Harcourt was a good-looking man of about forty-perhaps he was a year or two more, but he was young-looking for his age, and the absence of beard and mustache gave him a still more youthful aspect; the slight tinge of gray in his hair seemed to harmonize with the well-cut features. The mouth was especially handsome, though a sarcastic expression at times distinguished it. His figure was good, and without being tall, he carried himself with so much dignity as to give the impression of height. He was a man who would always be noticed among other men on account of his strong individuality and sheer force of character. Audrey was right when she owned that he made a splendid husband for Geraldine. Mr. Harcourt was exceedingly proud of his beautiful wife; but from the first hour of her married life he had made her understand that though she managed other people, including her own mother, her husband was to |