woman like me-for the sake of old times when you cared to kiss me? The old times-the old times that were so short because I turned my Arthur's heart to stone!'

Raymond could bear the scene no longer, but, having affectionately embraced the poor lady and pressed Nelly's hand, fled from the house. If he had been alone with the widow his position would have been sufficiently distressing; but that her daughter should be present while she thus reproached herself for what might be almost termed the conduct of her life, was intolerable. What made it the more impressive was that this was the first occasion on which either he or Nelly had heard Mrs. Conway own herself in the least to blame as respected the estrangement between herself and her husband. She must have been moved indeed to have made such an admission; and the burst of affection with which she had bidden good-bye to Raymond had been scarcely less surprising than her self-reproach.

In after days, when subsequent events had made that interview memorable, Raymond often pondered on it: how sad and strange that condemnation had sounded from the lips of the self-accused! how unexpected had been that outbreak of affection and remorse! It was as though the barrier that had shut in the poor woman's feelings for twenty years had given way beneath the pressure of her love, and laid bare her broken heart.

CHAPTER XXVI.

A PICTURE SALE.

On the afternoon after Raymond's visit, Mr. and Mrs. Wardlaw presented themselves at the Cedars, to pay their first formal call on the widow since her bereavement: and, much to their astonishment, found her from home. She was wont to go abroad but seldom, even before her late misfortune, and rarely without being accompanied by her daughter; but on this occasion she had left the house, while Nelly was marketing' in the morning, leaving word with the little maid that she had business in London, and might not be back till late in the day. Nelly was not absolutely alarmed at her absence, but she had a sense of disquiet which made the arrival of the friendly couple a great relief to her. They endeavoured to allay her anxiety by offering a number of reasons, more or less ingenious, but all improbable, for her mother's leaving home; and though these carried no conviction with them, the very expression of their confidence that all was right, was vaguely comforting. They supplied that need of 'company where the company is sympathetic-which we all

feel when in nervous suspense; and their conversation prevented her from dwelling upon the matter, and helped to pass the time until her apprehensions (as she hoped) should be removed by her mother's return.

I am come here, my dear young lady,' said Mr. Wardlaw gravely, upon a business errand. I want to get the advantage of you in a little bargain or two.'

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Yes,' put in Mrs. Wardlaw, and you must be very firm, my dear Nelly, and if possible grasping. You must not be taken in by John's apparent frankness. He has been all his life connected with commerce, and has been successful in it, and you may be quite certain therefore that he will cheat you if he can.'

To see this honest merchant laugh and roll in enjoyment of this shameful accusation-which he did not attempt to combatwas a spectacle that drew a smile from Nelly in spite of all her troubles.

'I know your husband's character well, dear Mrs. Wardlaw,' she replied, and believe him capable of anything; but, as Raymond used to quote from the classics when we remonstrated with him for crossing Hyde Park so late at night in the garotting times," he who has empty pockets can afford to laugh at the footpad;" I have nothing about which to bargain with Mr. Wardlaw, and therefore cannot be overreached.'

What! Have you sold all your pictures?'

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Oh, my pictures!' said Nelly, laughing; well, I am afraid I have still one or two on hand. But Mr. Jones, the print-seller in the High Street, has got more in his window than he can accommodate, and if you really wish-the prices are marked on them!" Here she stopped short with a little blush.

'What! you don't mean to say those beautiful views of the river, that Jones has had these three weeks, are yours?' continued Mrs. Wardlaw.

They are my little attempts at water-colours,' said Nelly shyly; but I should be sorry that, out of mere good nature, Mr. Wardlaw should disfigure the walls of Coromandel House with them.'

'But I tell you they are beautiful,' continued Mrs. Wardlaw; 'I was saying so to John the other day; only he answered, "Stuff and nonsense! do you suppose any pictures can be worth buying at those prices?""

'My dear young lady, don't believe her,' cried Mr. Wardlaw, turning a deep purple. 'I know a good thing when I see it, as well as any man that ever made a bid at Christie's. Said I to myself, "Those are Miss Nelly's, and she is very foolish to let

Jones exhibit them at so low a figure;" but I was not going to say so, for my wife would have said, " Buy 'em," which would have depreciated your valuable works in the market, and at the same time put a commission into Jones's pocket. Now, I am come here expressly to save the commission. So let us go up to the studio, and get to business at once.'

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Well, I never!' cried Mrs. Wardlaw, holding up her hands. 'I did not believe it was in the man to tell such a tale. If you can talk like that, John-with such hypocrisy and deceit—why, how do I know that it is business takes you up to town so regular, as you say, and sometimes until the small hours? Oh, Nelly, Nelly, what a revelation have you been the means of making of the depravity of man!'

'Well, I didn't think your husband was such a diplomatist, I must say,' said Nelly, smiling.

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Ah! he's all that and worse,' put in Mrs. Wardlaw gravely. 'Nay, if it comes to long words, let us see the pictures,' exclaimed the culprit; there is something in canvas as seems to draw 'em out. Even a sensible man, when he gets opposite a picture, begins to talk outlandishly; it's "delicacy of tone," or "refinement of treatment," or "cheery skewero," or such like; I sometimes think it's something in the oil as draws it out, though it's almost as bad with the water-colours.'

'It is plain you are not an art-critic,' said Nelly, as she led the way to her little studio, and I am afraid you have not a reverent mind."

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'Yet John knows what's what,' whispered Mrs. Wardlaw, who thought perhaps that her husband had been run down' enough. 'He's got an eye in his head.'

Which was true enough, although he could not have put an 'h' before the latter to save his life.

'Oh, ho! so these are the shadovers are they?' observed Mr. Wardlaw, as he looked round the room, the walls of which, notwithstanding her contributions to Mr. Jones's shop, still showed some half-dozen specimens of Nelly's handiwork. Why, here's the "'ouse" itself. A very pretty little thing, upon my

word.'

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'It's lovely,' observed Mrs. Wardlaw, enthusiastically, and as like as like; why, there's the creeper as though it was a-growing, and the balcony with the flowers looking as if one could smell 'em, and the kitchen window looking as natʼral

'Hush! hold your tongue, silly,' interrupted her lord and master; that ain't the way to cheapen a picture. Why, the wall is out of drawing, miss; and the top of the house too big for the

bottom; and as for the cheery skewero' -here he stepped back and made a telescope of his hand-why, it's evident it's the work of a beginner.'

'John, for shame!' exclaimed Mrs. Wardlaw indignantly; 'I say it's all lovely.'

'Indeed, Mrs. Wardlaw, your husband is quite right,' said Nelly. Mamma herself pointed out that the perspective was amiss; and of course it's true that I am but a beginner.'

'Nay, I don't say I don't admire it,' observed Mr. Wardlaw in less critical tones. There are many points about it that I do admire. And it's like the house, or how should I have known it at the first glance? The garden, too, if it wasn't so confoundedly steep

I'm afraid it's rather like a hanging garden,' put in Nelly good-humouredly.

What, for clothes? Indeed it's not, my dear,' said Mrs. Wardlaw encouragingly. 'Nobody would mistake it for a place of that kind.'

'Well, I tell you what, Miss Nelly,' cried the merchant, I'll give you ten guineas for it as it stands, without the frame.' Nelly smiled sadly, and shook her head.

Quite right!' exclaimed Mrs. Wardlaw vehemently; it is worth twenty if it's worth a guinea.'

'I doubt very much, dear Mrs. Wardlaw, if it is worth a guinea,' observed Nelly quietly. I am sure your good husband bid at least five times its value. But the fact is the little sketch

is not for sale.'

She understands all about it,' said Mr. Wardlaw admiringly. 'That is exactly the right thing to say, my dear. Come, I will give you five-and-twenty guineas for it.' The honest merchant was really in earnest; he felt as though in his favourite atmosphere of the auction room, and it excited him prodigiously.

'Indeed, Mr. Wardlaw, I was quite serious,' said Nelly gravely; 'that sketch was done for my dear father, when-when we little thought that he was to be taken from us; it was painted for him as a birthday gift, at the very time, alas! that he was doomed to death, and it seems somehow, as it were, a part of him. So, you see, it can never be for sale.'

'Oh lawks' cried Mr. Wardlaw under his breath, and wiping his face with his pocket-handkerchief. This is what comes of fancy prices, a thing I always set myself against on principle.'

'I am so sorry we have hurt your feelings, darling,' said Mrs. Wardlaw soothingly; then, turning sharply round upon her husband, 'How could you be such a fool, John? The very least

you can do is to take all the other pictures, at dear Nelly's own estimate of their value.'

Indeed,' laughed Nelly, through her tears, if Mr. Wardlaw did that, he would not ruin himself. I am conscious that they are but very poor things. Do you suppose,' she continued with deep feeling, that I do not know why you two are here to-day? You wish to encourage me in the calling to which I have ventured to apply myself. You want to persuade me that these indifferent productions of mine are really worth the lavish sums you are prepared to offer for them. You are not my true patrons, but something infinitely better and dearer-my true friends. I am not so blinded by self-conceit as not to know that I have everything to learn-except your kindness, which I knew beforehand.'

'I will give five hundred pounds for the lot,' murmured Mr. Wardlaw to himself; 'I must give it and she must take it.'

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'But indeed, Nelly,' cried Mrs. Wardlaw, you are much mistaken. I really want to possess your pictures; they are far more valuable in my eyes than the things John buys at the London sales, painted by the greatest masters. What do I care about a tall street, and a straight stream, without a tree to be seen near

it

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She means my Canalettis,' groaned her husband; I've got 1,500l. worth of 'em-go on.'

I say, what do I care about those hideous pictures of out-ofthe-way places, by a foreigneering artist, compared with these bright sketches of scenes that I know, by a hand that I love? I protest, Nelly, that these half-dozen little pictures of yours give me a greater pleasure than all the grand collection that we have got at home. And since this is so, why shouldn't John make me a present of the whole of them? They will give me more satisfaction than any diamond ring he can buy me, and will not cost half the price.'

Upon this there commenced a Dutch auction of the works in question; Mr. Wardlaw or his wife proposing some preposterous bid, and Nelly insisting on a much smaller and more reasonable figure.

'I don't want 'em home just now, my dear Nelly,' said Mrs. Wardlaw, when the purchases had been completed; I must make room for 'em as I can.'

'What you are thinking of, dear Mrs. Wardlaw, is that the absence of the sketches would leave my walls bare.'

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'No, no,' cried the old merchant, of course you keep 'em. When I buy a pictur at the Royal Academy, do you think I get it home at once: not a bit of it, it's not the custom of the trade.