"Gerant," she returned, with 1, you distrust me?"

"I am not at all sure the confidence to the test."

He had, with dark might add, clear, deep the violet or jetty shao tion. Their expression wa sad.

"It is a request I may he corrected, quickly, and count on the days s highest earthly happines 3 stand. If need be, I co And now I want you to "It is promised," she of his voice.

lyfulness, "why do

He resolved a vexed question in his own mind. He had to deal with another beside Cicely. One lost to honor, respect, am about to put your grovelling, as it were, in the very lowest stratum of human nature. He could not appeal to this soul, and have it respond like Cicely's. Persuasion, bribes, and perhaps threats must be his weapons here! The task was distasteful to him, yet for the sake of one sweet woman it must be done.

card, nd complexior, one hat ever lost their hue in ll some in moments of emohonorable, and now almost

a.

able--feel willing, I mean," When I say I love you, you as my wife, as being the care to know, you will underdown my life for you, gladly. me one thing."

The inhabitants of Haddon were considerably surprised the next day. Mr. Warburton drove out in his carriage, accompanied only by Miss Graham. The girls related how he had taken her home, and recalled many little incidents that Cicely had forgotten, making out a very tolerable intimacy. For once rumor was right. Before the week ended Mr. Warburton had purchased a house. Then Cicely was besieged with questions. Since Mr. Warburton had persuaded her to consent to a some touched by the tender inflections what speedy marriage, there was no necessity of keeping the matter secret. And I think Cicely's girl friends rejoiced unfeignedly. She was worthy of so good a husband. If he had vexed them heretofore by his impassibility, he made ample amends now by his devotion to Cicely, attending her everywhere, and taking Rose Gordon's raillery in perfect goodhumor.

"Some day you may eive an anonymous note, begging you to grant an interview a person who has something of importance to tell you. Will you please refer this person to me, without comment, an utterly refuse to see him ?"

"Why?" and her whole face showed her astonishment. "I cannot tell you. For my sake, believe there are some things in the world that you will not be the happier for knowing. It is nothing that concerns my life, or my love for younothing that can ever mar our happiness. Will you trust me to dispose of the matter?"

It was a hard trial. She was silent some seconds, then said, solemnly, "You give me your word before God that it is nothing I ought to know?"

"I do."

There was no mistaking that face, that tone. And she was beginning to love him so dearly!

"I will trust you," she answered, placing her hand in his. "Thank you. My Cicely, my darling," he whispered. "It is late, and I will see you again to-morrow. I rely upon your promise."

She smiled in proud, conscious strength. After the sound of his footsteps had died away, she shut the ball door carefully and went to her room. The whole house seemed in the silent, brooning atmosphere of slumber. But she was too excited, too happy for sleep.

So she sat down in her low rocking-chair, and wrapping her hawl well around her, began to think over the events of the evening. How strange everything appeared! Was it real?

Yes, she was blessed above any hope she might ever have had. If she could have chosen among all her acquaintances, there was not one who could equal Sidney Warburton in her estimation.

And he had chosen her, when so many others could have been had for the asking. He loved her. She shut all thoughts of the secret out of her heart this night. She would trust, obey.

Although it was late, Sidney Warburton did not quicken his pace after he was alone. It seemed comforting to linger under the quiet stars, to muse on the happiness that lay before him. How easily Cicely bad yielded!

It was not from the weakness of character Rose Gordon's epithet of "meek" suggested. Cicely had a high, proud soul, a will that might need curbing occasionally. No doubt it would be hard for her to obey when it came to the test. I an not sure but he understood her heart as well as she understood it herself.

A man with his fine penetration and quick judgment could find many unnoticed opportunitics of watching the woman he had begun to fancy would be nearest and dearest to him.

Besides his love for Cecily Graham, a sin ular circumstance concerning her had come under bis notic. A less noble man might have shrunk back in fear; instead, he voldly confronted the danger, first from a strange sence of pity, torly for her own dear sake. nd he meant to shit the sec.ct entirely out of her if she shenk, not ne Viz! rad with anything so ould have tauh in hun, if, Lie Ewed, though 'cafui, she woul. go on at her husband's bi'in, she might

be safe.

"He is splendid," Rose declared to Cicely. "I'm half in love with him myself. Only I confess he makes me the least trifle afraid-brings to my mind the legend of the velvet glove and the iron hand. And remember that night he took up Enid. You will have to obey at the first word, Cicely."

But the bride elect smiled confidently. To her Mr. Warburton was all indulgence. She sometimes wished he would ask something again, so she might show her love by complying. And since the night of the proposal he had not even hinted at a secret between them. It did puzzle her a little, but she was too happy to bestow more than a stray thought upon it.

At the time fixed, they were married. Cicely was an orphan, and possessed a small property that had been settled upon her at her grandfather's death, several years before that period. Up to that time she had lived with him in a quiet way, and was then consigned to the care of guardians. Of her parents she had no recollection. Mr. and Mrs. Hayward had been kind friends, and scrupulously just; yet, childless themselves, they did understand a young girl well enough to supply to her the place of those she had lost. And so it was the whole strength of Cicely's love was lavished upon Warburton. Each day he became dearer to her. And though her new home was not strictly luxurious, it surprised and delighted her by the beauty and taste displayed in its arrangement. Pictures that she had spoken of in some careless conversation, smiled down upon her like dear friends. Books that she loved were within reach; indeed, Sidney Warburton seemed to have possessed a diviner's power, to be able so readily to supply her unspoken wishes.

I do not need to tell you that they were very happy. Cicely's house was open to the friends of her girlhood. It gratified her deeply to have them praise Mr. Warburton, or his doings. And when she glanced into his grave but satisfied face, life seemed all too happy for her.

They sat alone one rainy evening, six weeks or so after their marriage. And though it was still happiness enough to sit beside her husband and be caressed, Cicely occasionally varied the the entertainment. Therefore on this night she said: Shall I read to you, Sidney?''

"Yes, if you will. Get Tennyson, and let me hear the sweet story of Enid again. It brings to mind that story of all nights, when we first loved each other."

There was a bright, sparkling fire in the grate. The heavy crimson window curtains fell to the floor in sheltering warmth, and shut out the sound of the storm. The roof or i-self made a picture. Every article was so ppropriate, harmonized to we, and had such a perfet hom - Fok.

Sidney Warburton in his ey-chair, C cely on an ort an, just high enough for her arms and book to rss on his and hi- hendt, find its way over her shoulder.

She was very fair, vth Bolt 57711 eyes, not sufficiently spi ited or mis hievious to be pronocroid v zl. Wav hor of almost the same shade, th ged a Litle with gold. 1. thor

tall and slender, with that peculiar willowy grace of motion | And how much it pains me to deny you anything, you can beautiful in itself.

"Then it was true?" Cicely exclaimed quickly. "There is was so betraying himself. Then he replied in a low calm tone:

"But I never received an anonymous letter !" she said, evad- and affectionate; indeed, she charmed him strangely. He had ing his question.

bear it. She should love him none the less now. And if it was any terrible thing! Her breath came hard, her heart bounded in great pulsations. No, she would not dwell upon it; she promised to trust, to obey.

"I was." Sbe thought a moment, then tearing off one side of the paper, wrote in pencil :

"I refer you to my husband. And so she wreathed her face in smiles to meet him at the is of importance to him also. dinner-hour, and kept far from the dangerous topic.

Mr. Warburton listened to her tone as if to detect an undercurrent. It was sweet, natural, and her laugh had the old gay ring.

What is of importance to me
MRS. SIDNEY WARBURTON."

Placing it in an envelope, she handed it to the woman, who lingered in an uncertain manner. Seeing nothing in the fair, proud face to induce communicativeness, she slowly went on

She thought she was trusting; she did not know she had put her way. on a disguise.

The long, warm days, with little to do sometimes, grew wearisome. And partly to divert her mind from the absorbing thought that it was dwelling on, she took up an interesting story, aud lying on the sofa, tried to read herself sleepy.

She had almost succeeded, when she was roused by a violent ring at the door-bell. Being in a mood to note everything, she hardly drew her breath as she waited for a sound or question. She heard the servant say, "I will give it to her," when a

Cicely shut the door, and returned to her pleasant sittingroom. But how changed all the world appeared to her! The very sun that fell on the carpet shone in a strange fashion; and the faces in the pictares looked on her with curious eyes, a sort of scornful pity, it seemed, that she, so well loved, should be kept in blindness by the husband who loved her. Well, she had done his bidding. Whether actuated by trust, affection, or that instinctive feeling swaying us sometimes in moments of peril, she could hardly tell.

Mrs. Warburton's white fingers trembled visibly. Yet before he was! Rich and poor praised him with eager tongues. she read the note she dismissed the domestic.

There were three lines, in a tremulous, nearly illegible hand. She puzzled over it some moments, and then deciphered these words:

No, it could not be possible any sin or shame clung to him.
But it not him, who then?

She brooded over it so long, that she had barely time to attire herself for her husband's coming. She put on the white "The writer asks an interview with Mrs. Warburton, and dress again, the flowers in her hair he loved so well, and faswill disclose something of the utmost importance." ened a cluster of sweetest buds at her bosom. How lovely she looked-only there was a flush and glitter about her, quite

Her voice was coldly calm with a resolve to obey her hus- unlike her usual sweet repose.

band in the minutest particular. She simply said:

"Were you 'o'd to wait for an answer?''

VOL. XVII., No. 1-2

I think Sidney Warburton discovered it at the first moment. His penetration was on the alert,

Kissing her, he turned her face up a little. It was criason in a second, and she struggled away from him. He took her captive again.

"We will dismiss the matter, Cicely," he said, approaching her kindly. "I fully appreciate the sacrifice you are making.” She kissed him in turn, but there was no warmth in the

"What is the matter?" he asked, and this time he glanced caress. steadily into her eyes.

"The test came," she answered, "and I obeyed you."

"What do you mean ?''

There was alarm in his voice and face.

"I received an anonymous letter."

She wondered at the calmness of her voice.

The supper bell summoned them both, and broke up the embarrassing situation. But after the meal Mr. Warburton went out, a quite unusual proceeding on his part, and Cicely was left to her thoughts.

Not pleasant companions, truly.

She could not demand an explanation. Even if she had the

"On the first night of our engagement, I promised, if any courage, she could not compel him to confess what he had evisuch came, I would refer the writer to you."

She merely paused to crowd down the strangling breath, but his quick question broke the pause. "And you did ?'' "I did."

"Where is the note? You retained it ?" She handed it to her husband. He glanced at it, while different expressions passed rapidly over his face. Anger was one. Cicely knew it by the intense contraction of the brow. He turned from her, and paced the room rapidly.

Though strongly excited by some passion or feeling, no sound passed his lips. He grew calmer, and returned to his wife. "Cicely," he began, "do you know who brought this? Tell me all the circumstances."

She related the incident of the afternoon in a tone strangely cold for one who had so keen an interest in the matter. But Mr. Warburton scarcely noticed her manner. I think it piqued her somewhat to see him so absorbed.

"This note," he said, "was sent to you in defiance of a most sacred promise. And the knowledge the writer offers to impart can only make you miserable. It has been my daily prayer to God that you should never know it. And now, when a few weeks may bring its danger to an end, it seems cruel to excite you unnecessarily."

dently resolved to withhold.

Yet with this secret between them, how could they ever be happy again? Now there was no way to learn it.

She almost regretted the answer she had sent to the note. And what would the end be?

Besides, what danger could menace her? No relative in the world, that she knew of, was near enough to raise a dispute about the little property she held, and she knew too that Sidney Warburton was not a man to sacrifice happiness to a trifle, as such a sum of money would be to him. He had settled it upon her on their marriage day, and nobly added to it. No, it was not that. What then? Yes, she ought to know. What if this danger confronted her in a new shape? met her in the street, when she could not avoid it? waylaid her in so different a guise that she did not at first recognise it? Well, she could not then be blamed for listening to an explanation. Aud_she was haunted with a desire to hope it would.

A curious spell shadowed the house, or rather, I should say, Cicely's mind, aud through this medium all seemed strange. Mr. Warburton was kind, devoted, tender, to such a degree that she suspected it as a cover to something. He was trying to win Cicely from the subject on which he knew she was brooding. Neither of them mentioned it, yet Cicely was cold, con

She turned her eyes on him in mute questioning, perhaps, strained. too, a little distrust.

"I have your promise," he continued, taking her hand. "And how sincerely I thank you for so brave and prompt an obedience, my future life must show. No words can sufficiently commend you."

She made an effort to speak.

"Assure me," she said, that this danger, or difficulty, is no fault of yours."'

Sidney Warburton's face flushed first, and then became deathly pale. The suspicion that her glance expressed, wounded him to the quick. His life had been so blameless and honorable, to be made a subject of suspicion-and by his own wife! Yet a moment's thought convinced him the idea was not so unreasonable after all.

"I learned the day before our engagement took place, that some trouble menaced you. The very fact, it might be, served to deepen my feelings towards you. I felt that you must be shielded. And now that you are mine, the desire is a hundred fold more intense. That is all my fault-love for you."

His arms were folded across his breast, conscious of, and proud in his innocence. There was an innate dignity about him.

He was one of those men whose superiority we acknowledge by the homely saying, "Born to rule." The workmen in the factory, and every one who came under his charge, learned this. Yet he was never stern, hasty or bitter. Rose Gordon was right in her comparison.

His gentleness covered an irresistible will. And now that he said this, he waited in silence for the next movement.

The most contradictorv emotions rushed through Cicely's heart and brain.

The freshness and frankness that had always thrown such a charm over every word and action, waned sadly. She looked weary, dispirited; and to rouse her, Mr. Warburton planned a pleasant journey.

"In a week or two I shall be at leisure, I think," he said, but a doubtful expression passed over his brow with the last words. Her quick eye caught it. Was it the secret that occupied so much of his thoughts and attention?

She had been walking one afternoon, and called at her husband's office, as was occasionally her custom. He came in a little flushed, and begged her to wait while he attended to some business. She glanced out of the window careless y, watching those who passed by with a languid interest.

The office was attached to the main building by a wide passage-way. Its window commanded a view of the yard in front, through which the workmen passed.

Cicely watched them awhile, when the figure of a woman caught her attention. The faded dress and bonnet roused a strange memory. And as the face was turned, Cicely recognised it. It was the person who had brought her the note! As if governed by some strange spell, their eyes met. What did that wistful, sorrowful look mean?

Cicely shivered with apprehension.

Mr. Warburton enterei, ready to accompany her home. Neither seemed disposed for conversation. She noted how harrassed and anxious he seemed, and, in spite of herself, the old tenderness returned. But distrust vanished it.

What business had induced that woman to seek an interview with her husband?

Cicely was not jealous of her; but this terrible secret appeared to confront her everywhere. So she shut out the gentle

It seemed as if an" trouble threatened her she surely ought emotion that was striving within her. to know it.

Yet convincing her husband was a hopeless, useless task. Indeed, she had no thought of attempting it. Neither was she in a sufficiently yielding frame of mind to acquiesce cheerfully. She felt wronged, defrauded, and took refuge in prideful silence, more immovable than his. And so he was forced to speak first.

Yet as they sat together in the evening, talking of days to come, and pleasures to be enjoyed, she was insensibly charmed by the low music of her husband's voice, and his tender care for her. I think a moment later she would have said they could be happy in the very face of mystery.

"A woman wishes to see Mr. Warburton at the door," was the domestic's sudden announcement.

There was a fall, a gurgling sound, silence. Cicely hid her comparative anatomists, but is too complicated, and requires face on her husband's breast.

The red fire-fish is common off the Ceylonese coast, and is said to be rather valuable as an article of food, its flesh being "My own love," he said tenderly, solemnly, "God only very white, firm and nutritious. The native fishermen hold knows how I desired to shield you from this."

this species in some dread, t' inking that it can inflict an incu Cicely only clung to him. She had no words wherewith to rable wound with the sharp spins which arm its person and excuse herself.

The general color of the red fire-fish is pinky brown, barred How silent that summer night was! They could both hear with darker brown, and the head is redder than the Lo fy. The their hearts beat.