take a different view of the relative positions of the two Empires. For many years Austria has been the "brilliant second" of Germany, a rôle inacceptable to Franz Ferdinand, and, sooner or later, this capable and clearsighted Prince cannot fail to see that German Imperialism will either lead the Dual Monarchy to ruin or vassalage. Once he has grasped this fact, which is becoming ever more obvious to the intelligence of Austria and Hungary, it is not extravagant to anticipate that he will cease to regard the The National Review.

CHAPTER VII.

While she

But Kitty did not go. was torn with doubts and scruples as to whether or not it might not be more advisable to break her promise to Stephen an important event took place. Mr. Raymond wrote to her father, making a formal proposal for the hand of Bess.

"It's the most preposterous thing I ever heard of," said Mr. Leslie, coming into the girls' sitting room. "I thought Raymond would have known better. He is just two years younger than myself-Two years! And he actually thinks I could consent to give him that child-that baby-why, she's not out of short frocks yet."

"I am," cried Bess, jumping up. "Oh, it's too bad; it really is too bad. The idea of his writing to you, Father! I dare say I'll never have a chance of another proposal and that he should go and spoil it all like this!" Mr. Leslie gazed at her blankly; there were tears in her eyes.

"There's no need to be so much upset my dear," he said, mistaking the cause of her agitation. "Of course, I shall write at once-unless you would

prefer to do so," he added, his usual desire to shift a troublesome task on to other shoulders than his own rendering him for the moment oblivious of what was proper to the occasion.

"Of course I'll write," exclaimed Bess promptly. "But he is stupid-however I can tell him to come down and talk the matter over-that will be the best. I'll keep him in suspense a bit."

"No, no," said her father. "Far better to put the man out of pain at once."

"But I don't want to put him out of pain. I want him to be on tenterhooks till he comes down and meanwhile I can question my own heart."

Bess was beginning to enjoy herself. "Question your heart?" ejaculated Mr. Leslie, blinking at her. "You surely don't mean to say that you are thinking of accepting him."

"I am thinking of it," returned his daughter. "I'm not quite sure whether I shall do it or not. He's a very nice man and I should feel very safe with him. It might be my duty. I shall just wait and pray for guidance," she added piously. "May I see his letter?"

Mr. Leslie drew an envelope from

his pocket and handed it to her. Then, after a pause, during which he had eyed his child with wondering dismay, he went out of the room, turning in the doorway to beg her hurriedly to be careful not to commit herself.

Bess nodded and drawing the letter from its cover read it carefully.

"Quite a nice document," she observed in a satisfied tone presently, "but it would have been much better if he said all those pretty things to me instead of to poor, dear Father. He never appreciated me, so of course he can't appreciate them."

"Bess," said Kitty, speaking for the first time, "you don't seriously intend to marry a man nearly thirty-five years older than yourself?"

"Is it as much as thirty-five!" returned Bess. "Well, you know, there's a proverb about it's being better to be an old man's darling than a young man's slave. Mr. Raymond is very nice and very kind and very, very rich, and fifty-two isn't really old-and perhaps nobody else may turn up. That is the point, you see. Our season in London was a desperate failure-no doubt about that. And who do we see here-who are we likely to see? There's Teddy of course-Teddy does very well to play about with-but he hasn't a penny, and he'll probably be in love a dozen times before he mar ries anyhow. I come first on the list so I don't stand much chance, even if I did wait till he made a fortune."

She walked to the window and looked out, drumming on the pane.

"But Bess you don't-you can't-love Mr. Raymond?" faltered Kitty.

I

cases it is what is best for one. dare say my soul will be the gainer, Kitty dear. But I shall be better able to decide when he comes."

In answer to Mr. Raymond's proposal she composed a very pretty, diffident little letter, which, while it made no definite promise, did not debar her elderly admirer from hoping, and moreover gave him permission to pay his addresses in person.

"I'll tell him he'd better put up at the Crown, though," she observed. "We couldn't make him really comfortable here; besides, we might have too much of him," she added, with engaging candor.

Kitty came flying across the room.

"Oh, Bess, tear up that letter, do! You can't even like him or you wouldn't talk of him like that."

"Don't take me up so," ejaculated Bess, wriggling out of her embrace. "I must have a little time to myself. I must be free from-from-his personal influence if I'm to keep my mind clear. It's an important decision, you know. There don't-don't worry me

I really can't be worried" she added, with an unconscious and ridiculous imitation of her father's manner.

Kity forbore to press her further, but remained very anxious during the next few days. Her own personal doubts and fears were forgotten in her dread of an unwise decision on the part of her cherished little sister.

When Mr. Raymond arrived he was quick to note the nervous, almost suspicious, manner in which Kitty watched his advances, and in the course of the evening startled her by saying:

"I see that you are no ally of mine." "I don't quite admit that," returned she quickly, "it is only-oh, Mr. Raymond I can't help feeling that Bess is so young!"

"And I am so old," he added, half sadly. "Do you suppose I don't real

ize it? If it had not been for that, I should have spoken before you left London. I was much tempted to do so, but was held back by this very consideration. Yet on reflection-on

calm reflection, I decided that it might not be altogether such a bad thing for her."

"Oh, how can you tell?" cried Kitty impulsively. "She can't know her own mind yet. Supposing she were to marry you now-before she was twenty she might discover that you were the wrong man."

"That would be very sad," agreed Mr. Raymond. "But, on the other hand, you see she might find out that I was the right one. I should try and make sure of that. I think I understand her-perhaps better than any one else could. I should know how to be forbearing. I think I could make her happy-I think-I think in time her nature would expand. It is a rich nature-full of possibilities. You will excuse me for saying that no one has as yet plumbed its depths."

Kitty was astonished and somewhat abashed. She had not as yet discovered that these depths existed.

"You have made a plaything of her," pursued the wooer, "she is well adapted for play, but, later on-with scope "

He stopped abruptly, for at that moment Bess, strolling across the room, seized Kitty's finger and described a rapid circle with it her lips moving inaudibly the while. Kitty jerked away her hand and rose.

"It is too late to play games now, and besides, Father wants me."

"How tiresome of you!" exclaimed Bess pouting. "I wanted to see if Mr. Raymond would guess. You can't have forgotten already?" she added, turning to him.

The door was already closing behind her sister, and Mr. Raymond quietly took possession of Bess's own hand.

"Yes, I guess," he said. "It is the left hand, isn't it? And you have been drawing a ring?"

You

"Oh, you're not going to speak now," cried Bess in alarm. "Don't do it now. I want you to approach very gently and give me lots of time. mustn't take everything for granted like that talking about rings already. Besides, I don't want you to propose in here I want it to be out-of-doors-in the garden-by moonlight, perhaps -that's how I should like it."

"You haven't thought of what I should like, have you?" said he. "It is very pretty play, Bess-but this is a serious matter for both of us."

Bess looked up at him with round solemn eyes and a pursed mouth; she was rather paler than usual.

"You must know me pretty well by this time," he went on, "and I think I know you. But one thing I don't know yet-could you learn to love me, Bess?"

Bess, becoming more and more serious, nodded without speaking.

"Ah, but wait a bit," he went on quickly. "I want you to realize what you are doing. You are scarcely more than a child, and yet-and yet from the moment you agree to be my wife you accept the responsibilities of a woman. I am too old for you-I know it-much too old-but I think I could make you happy. I will not insult you by talking of what I could give you-what I could do for you-in a material way, I mean, because I know you well enough to realize that such considerations would have no weight with you; but-"

"Mr. Raymond," said Bess, and then stopped short, breathing very quickly. Large tears were standing on her pink cheeks; all her little affectations had dropped from her. Suddenly, rushing past him, she flung herself in a corner of the sofa, burying her head in the cushions; he hurried after her in

alarm, and presently went stiffly down on one knee beside her.

"What is the matter, my child?"

Bess turned a little sideways; she was sobbing, yet nevertheless there was a dawning satisfaction in her face. Mr. Raymond was kneeling to her-even if it was only on one knee-that was a great thing to happen to anybody. "What is it?" he repeated. She sat up with a gasp.

"Oh, I am so sorry and so much ashamed, but I will tell you the truth. I'm not a bit what you think me. I'm a horrid, horrid, sordid little wretch, and I-I-you're quite wrong in thinking that I haven't counted on what you can do for me in a material way-I'm dreadfully material. I hate being poor, and never having anything pretty, and being shut up in a dull hole like this, and never seeing anybody nice or doing anything amusing, and I thought -yes, I did that if I married you-"

She hid her head in the cushion again, and Mr. Raymond slowly rose and stood looking down at her. After a long pause and many tumultuous sobs, Bess peeped up again; he was smiling.

"Now supposing you sit up and make room for me beside you," he observed.

Bess obeyed, mopping her eyes vigorously with a dilapidated little handkerchief. He waited until her selfpossession was in some measure restored, and then put his hand in his pocket.

mind to speak. At last she said, still hesitatingly:

"You know I'm not naturally serious, and it would be dreadful if you expected me to live up to you. I simply couldn't! I never thought about being a woman."

"Perhaps I was a little premature." he returned.

Bess meditated for a moment or two, still balancing the ring on her finger; then she turned towards him with a resolute air:

"You know, Mr. Raymond, I want you to understand what you are doing. I have told you I am not naturally serious, and I'm not sure that I want to be."

"When you are my little wife you shall play as much as you like-at the proper times."

"And I've got a sordid soul" continued Bess, earnestly; "and I-when you asked me just now if I could learn to love you I was just going to say yes, but now-I'm not so sure-and I don't think I ought to tell you a fib."

"Put that on one side for the present," said Mr. Raymond, quietly; "I am quite willing to wait."

"Then don't you want to have this back?"

"No, I want you to keep it."

Bess, with a little sigh of satisfaction, replaced the ring which she had removed, and after a pause looked shyly at her lover. He had really a very fine head, she decided, and did not look as if he were 52. He had rather puzzled her, yet, somehow, she felt that she had never liked him so well. All at once she raised her hand tentatively.

"Should you like to kiss it?" she asked.

"Very much," he rejoined, "but I'll wait for that, too."

"Well, I think I'll go to Kitty," observed Bess, after a pause. "It's-it's been rather agitating, you know-I

want to talk it over with Kitty-oh, Mr. Raymond, there's one thing I forgot to tell you-once a long time ago— several months ago-I almost thought I'd like to marry a farmer."

"What!" exclaimed Mr. Raymond. "Yes, quite, quite a common farmer -at least not quite common, because he was educated in a way, but he isn't a gentleman. He's our landlord, and he was very kind to us and used to take us out riding, and we never saw anybody else, and I thought it would be so dreadful to be an old maid-' "Yes-well?"

"Well, that's all. I did think of it. I wanted you to know that. Would it make any difference?"

"Not the slightest."

He made a step towards her as she reached the door.

"Bess, you have told me a great many things to-night, and I have told you hardly anything, but I think you know what I feel about you. Try to think of that sometimes while I am waiting."

He opened the door for her and she walked away very slowly, calling discreetly on her sister's name outside the study door. Receiving no answer she galloped upstairs to their joint bed room, and flung herself impetuously into the arms of Kitty, who anxiously started up to greet her.

After a strangulating hug she disengaged herself and held up for inspection the finger wearing the ring.

"Already!" exclaimed Kitty. "You are engaged already, Bess?"

"I don't know," rejoined Bess reflectively. "I suppose I am in a way, but I want to tell you and see what you think. He began by saying-No, I don't think I can tell you-I feel queer -I feel very queer. I wish I wasn't such a horrid grovelling wretch. I told him I was-and he didn't seem to mind, and he-oh, Kitty, he says he's

waiting-I do hope he won't be disappointed."

"My darling, I don't understand you." "I think he's waiting for me to turn into a woman-and of course we all do that-and one can be a woman even at eighteen if one goes about it in the right way. I think-Oh, I don't know what I think-he doesn't seem a bit like the Mr. Raymond who used to take us about sightseeing in Londonhe's quite different and somehow-I don't know---"

"You don't know that you like him so well?" inquired Kitty, anxiously.

"No," corrected Bess, emphatically multiplying her negatives. "I don't know that I don't like him the more."

Each sister had now certain reserves with the other, and yet they had never clung more closely together. Kitty could not contemplate leaving home in the present unsettled state of the little household. If Bess made up her mind to accept Raymond, then surely it was right that they should see all they could of each other before the separation that must ensue; if, on the other hand, the semi-engagement came to nothing she could still less bear to leave Bess alone, disappointed and depressed. It was, moreover, very easy to avoid the Hardys and Sheba. Kitty's bedroom was a point of vantage whence she could watch their goings and comings; and she could in consequence time her own in contrary fashion.

Once or twice, indeed, Rebecca made some excuse for coming to see the sisters, but gradually these visits ceased. Bess, full of her actual importance and prospective dignity, did not encourage them, and Kitty was nervous and constrained, though she never failed to hug her kind old friend at parting with a warmth which astonished that good woman, and caused her to feel yet more puzzled over their changed relations.