Von der Leyen family, then Cobern with the Altenburg and the Neuerburg. Not far from here is the mineral source of Bellthal, from which an English company procures that excellent water without which how were a summer in these hills endurable. If Londoners have doubtful drinking water in their cisterns, at all events they are now well supplied with wholesome natural waters in bottle.

And so, as the river winds past Winnigen Güls and Moselweiss, beyond the bridge, built in the fourteenth century by the most powerful prince in all the Mosel annals, Archbishop Baldwin, rises the impregnable fort Ehrenbreitstein, and the Rhine broadens out between.

It is a good life here on this romantic river, out of the world almost, for all the trains that hurry onwards on the road to Metz

-a good life in the long summer days-to sit on the highest tower of the Ehrenburg, with books spread out before one, and watch the sunset over the distant mountains of the Eifel; to splash and swim in the quick current, whirled down the middle channel; and racing the barges that make for the Rhine. Or else at nights, when one grows weary of the smoke and wine in the garden by the water, to go and lie all night through at the edge of the woods above, and wait for a shot when the wild-boar creeps stealthily out to do havoc in the potatofields. The watchman has just whistled twelve times under my window to signify that it is midnight; there is no moon to-night to lighten up the hills; the boars may have another chance; the last light has died away over the river at Hatzenport; and so all things must end.

CHAPTER I.

'She charmed my heart, and aye sinsyne
I couldna' think on ony ither.
By sea and sky she shall be mine,
The bonnie lass amang the heather.'
GLOVER.

THE top of the long hill was gained, the avenue-gate entered, a short drive, and Norah Grant was safely landed at Robin Lodge, county Ross-shire, country Scotland.

So you are introduced to my heroine. But just as you could not, with politeness, scan too too closely a lady presented to you in your own drawing-room, so do not stare Miss Grant out of countenance now; you shall see her, and know her better, presently, when her travelling garments and some of the journey's marks have been removed together.

No welcome could have been warmer than young Mrs. Ross's, no room could have been more cosy than that to which she led her guest, no armchair could have been more tempting than the one Norah was pushed into; finally, no cup of tea is ever so refreshing as that blessed cup presented by a friendly hand after a long and tedious journey.

What a large part 'commonplaces' play in our every-day lives! We cannot meet even our dearest friend after a long absence with

VOL. XXXVII. NO. CCXXVI.

out launching first into small talk, carefully abstaining from the subjects which really most interest us, till the weather, &c., have been carefully worked off, anxiously descanted on.

So Miss Grant, whilst sipping her tea, bravely made her way through subjects in which she took no sort of interest, and not till cup No. 2 did she and Fanny Ross become once more on last year's friendly and confidential footing.

'Percival Leicester is here just now,' quoth little Mrs. Ross.

'O' from the depths of the easy-chair, in by no means a pleased and interested tone.

'Now, Norah, don't make up your mind beforehand to be stiff and-excuse me-uncivil. There is no need, and Percival Leicester is by no means to be despised ;' and Mrs. Ross shook her head at the young lady opposite, who remained perfectly unmoved, and answered demurely,

'It's just as well I've known you some time, Fanny, my dear, or I might not care to have my manners found fault with so soon after my arrival. I merely said "O," a very harmless expression, I believe. But go on: who else is here?'

'Only an artist friend of Ned's,

U

a Mr. Lindsay, Geoffrey Lindsay. I hardly know him myself yet, so you must form your own conclusions about him. He is wonderfully kind and good to the children-spoils them, in fact, the little monkeys. Kate Tennant arrives in a day or two, and completes our present party. I often wish the Lodge were larger.'

The gentlemen were all out shooting, so the ladies enjoyed a cosy chat, till they found there was barely time for the business of unpacking and dressing before the dinner-bell would ring; and both hurried up-stairs, Mrs. Ross to her nursery, Norah to her room, refusing all offers of assistance in unpacking. As the young lady bustled about, folding and arranging in independent style, she thought over and made up her mind on one or two subjects connected with the recent fireside conversation. Percival Leicester Percival Leicester and she were no strangers to each other. At this time last year, and in this house, they had become acquainted, and Norah had soon classed him as a rich and conceited, good-natured but foppish, young man. Once formed, the opinion was hard to remove. Percival as quickly discovered Miss Grant to be the most attractive, cleverest, sweetest, and most tiresome girl he had ever met. It had once or twice struck him that Norah Leicester might sound better than Norah Grant; but so thought not that damsel. The old name had served her comfortably these two-and-twenty years; she desired no other as yet, and often spoke gaily of the day when, with a cat or parrot, she should be a happy old maid. Ah, Norah! So matters stood at present, and as she finished the last piece of unpacking and began her evening toilette, Norah quietly decided that, if coolness and snubbing on her

part could teach Percival her feelings towards him, he should have no excuse for not knowing them.

Norah, as she surveyed herself in the long glass before descending, gave a satisfied little nod at the reflection there, and no wonder. It surely is not wrong to feel happy and pleased, when the glass plainly says, 'You are looking very pretty this evening, my dear.' We admire and love a beautiful flower, do we not, as a gift from God? and is not human beauty of a far higher order, a more perfect loveliness? Only remember the flowers must smell sweet too, or their beauty loses half its charms, and the sweetest of them are sometimes the most sober-coloured. But I think Norah smelt sweet too.

The reflection that nodded back at her was certainly a pleasant one to look on. Fresh, young, light-hearted, a bonnie little lassie, what more could you want? Of middle height, neither stout nor thin, a pretty little figure of Nature's moulding (and the soft muslin set it off to advantage this evening); a well-shaped head, pretty curly brown hair; gray eyes, laughing eyes, but which could look beautifully soft and tender at times; a nose too short for perfect beauty, and just too large a mouth for a critical eye, yet filled with shining white teeth, and you have Norah as I remember her at this time, and want you to imagine her. Just a simple bright little maiden, with as many faults and failings as the rest of us. She is all fault who hath no fault at all,' truly.

When she reached the drawingroom, Norah found Mr. Ross there standing by the window, discussing with a gentleman the merits of a sketch the latter held in his hand, and who was introduced to her as Mr. Lindsay. She cast a