"Not small in any sense of the word," answered I, pushing the Burgundy across the table; and really, just now, in the vague half light, Jack Mortimer's six feet three loomed even unusually large and handsome. No, Jack was certainly not a small mercy. We had been schoolfellows at Westminster, chums at Cambridge, the best of friends always, though for the last half-dozen years or so parted by many a thousand miles of sea and land. Even by this half light something indescribable in the set of my old friend's ordinarily fashionable garments, a something more indescribable still in his whole bearing-a certain large ease and freedom, as of a man accustomed to an almost unlimited amount of space to turn himself in, would have been suggestive of one fact, I think, to the most casual observerHome from the colonies." And home from the colonies it was. For the last five years Jack Mortimer had been enjoying life in the bush. Not that in his case there had existed the usual inducement for viewing life under those delightfully primitive aspects, for my friend had occupied from his youth upwards that enviable position of heir to a wealthy maiden aunt; but merely, as it seemed, from a natural and inevitable tendency in his own nature towards that simple and patriarchal state of things. There having been no particular necessity for his prospering in the line of life he had adopted, prosper, of course, he did; but a few months back, in compliance with the wishes of the maiden aunt, who was getting on in years, and craved, as she said, to see her boy (which she would have called Jack if he had been sixty, instead ot well up towards thirty, as he was) take up his position in his native land before she died, he had disposed of all his flocks and herds, and came back to old England to settle down as a country gentleman and landed proprietor. I Dad not very long previously succeeded to my own modest patrimony of Meadowsleigh, and flatter myself that that fact had some weight in the selection made by Jack of a residence; the same being a queer, rambling old house, with a valuable, but certainly improvable property attached, in my neighborhood, called The Wild. Here Jack had been domiciled for some months now, the head of a curious bachelor establishment, organised, I should say, on strictly bush principles. As near neighbors, as well as old friends, Jack and I were accustomed to exchange unceremonious visits at all hours; so that after we had nodded to each other over our first glass, there was scarcely any need of his accounting, in a half apologetic way, for his appearance at this particular time, by saying, "that The Wild was apt to feel duller than usual on these long, quiet summer evenings!" THE ladies (they were comprised in my wife and our sole guest, a cousin feminine) had left the dining-room; so I drew up my chair beside the open window, elevated my feet in a second, and prepared to extract the greatest amount of comfort, "I can imagine a vacuum there, which, being abhorred of compatible with circumstances, from that half-hour of post-nature, it is consequently unnatural of you not to fill." I said, prandial bereavement, which is the Englishman's privilege. And really circumstances just now were not otherwise than conducive to enjoyment. The soft-scented air of a sweet summer evening rustled very pleasantly through the wide-open window. The voices of the village children at play, mellowed (I am happy to say) by distance, came up ever and anon upon its gentle breath; and, it must be owned, a more delicately fragrant glass of Burgundy has seldom gladdened the heart of man than that which blushed beside my elbow on the table now. I was, let me trust, in an appreciative and grateful frame of mind; but yet, as I sipped my Burgundy and lay back in my chair watching the tender evening light die away on the distant trees, I was conscious of a want; for, after all, he is but a churl who can contentedly drink even the glorious vintage of Burgundy alone. lazily, "Jack, why don't you marry?'' This suggestion my friend received in the silence which I had sometimes noticed it was his habit to receive remarks of a similar nature, nor was it his usual custom to lead up to such, by any reference to his bachelorhood. As he sat now, leaning back in his chair, looking very large, and brown, and handsome, and yet with unwonted gravity on his face too, a suspicion for the first time entered my head, as I glanced at him, that there might be some reason, of a tender and romantic nature, to account for his peculiar reticence on this subject; though, indeed, Jack Mortimer, with his jolly laugh, his genial face, and kindly words and looks for all the world, was not easily to be reconciled with the idea of "blighted hopes," worms in the bud," and so forth. My wife, with whom Jack was on terms of mutual amity and good will (as, indeed, this gentleman is a favorite with "Man never is, but always to be" I was beginning, when married ladies in general), was firmly impressed with the con the door opened. "Mr. Mortimer, sir." "Let us be thankful for small mercies !" I ejaculated instead ; "glad to see you, Jack! Stevens, clean glasses." "Am I the mercy ?" inquired Jack, depositing himself leisurely in the most comfortable chair at hand. "Not a particularly small one, then, I'm thinking, Frank." viction, not only that Jack had never been in love, but that he would never marry. "And why, madam, should you infer this of a man who is in every way calculated to adorn that honorable estate?" I inquired, when the partner of my joys first enunciated her views upon this subject. "Is not my old friend eminently social in his habits, brimming over with all kindly affections? Why, then, should he be incapable of love, and cut off from the joys | man or woman availeth not, as I understand you," said I, of matrimony?" dismissing the subject. "I did not say he was incapable of love, Frank; ah, no!" answered Mrs. Marchmont, "though I think he will never arry. It will be some woman's loss too, for men like Mr. Mortimer-men more affectionate than passionate, more constant than ardent, make model husbands. Their wives are better loved than even their-their sweethearts (yes, Frank, I like the pretty old world name for the old, old relation, and think no other so simply expressive). And hearth and home are more to such men as he, than the rest of the world, I think." "Upon my word, ma'am," I remarked in some surprise, for my wife's voice was very soft and gentle as she spoke, "you s-em to have brought a great deal of consideration and reflection to bear on the subject of Mr. Mortimer!" "Reflection!-not at all, dear," Mrs. Marchmont said simply; "one feels-at least I think a woman does instinctively-the worth of such a man as John Mortimer. And he is not of that order that is most attractive to the greatest number of women either." "Indeed! Be good enough to explain the contradiction in your words, young woman. If Jack Mortimer is possessed of such unusual virtue, and women instinctively perceive the same, why is he not the honored object of their regards? Or am I to understand that the female mind prefers an exhilarating sprinkling of vice in its idol, if only to throw the virtues up into broader light, as it were ?" "No, not that, exactly," Mrs. Marchmont answered rather hesitatingly; "but I think, perhaps, that women prefer in general a-well-a more showy style of thing than Mr. Mortimer. Don't laugh, Frank." But I did laugh. I had pooh-poohed my wife's observations, of course, thus vindicating my natural supremacy and superiority, but secretly I own they had weight with me, and I had long ago set down Jack as not a marrying man, in spite of his natural predilection for the society of women, as evinced in his seeking that of those who were safely provided with husbands. The tender evening light was fast fading into the transparent darkness of a midsummer night as we sank into mutual silence. Streaks of mellow light from the wide-open windows of the adjacent drawing-room chequered the long shadows of tree and shrub on the lawn with broad bars of quiet light. The low airs of evening sighed tenderly to the trees, which whispered back answers all lovingly tremulous, and then, suddenly, there grew out from that murmurous accompaniment, a strain of plaintive passion, of wondrous sweetness. The sudden change from the darkling atmosphere of the room we had left, to the radiance of that which enshrined the ladies of my household, was a little dazzling and bewildering. Was it only that? or did I see, as Jack Mortimer turned from his friendly greeting to Mrs. Marchmont, to bow in response to my introduction of "Mr. Mortimer" to "Miss Francis," a sudden start, followed by utter confusion on Jack's part, a vivid blush, and an exceedingly haughty uprearing of the head, on "Of course they do, bless their hearts! And so poor Jack is that of my pretty little cousin, Beaty Francis?" to be the victim of an unappreciating female world." "I don't think I meant that, either, Frank; but of this I am convinced, that any woman willing to marry Mr. Mortimer would have to make him understand it in an unmistakable manner, or he would never credit the fact." "Well-well, my love. Then let us hope that a lady may cross our friend's path in life with sufficient sense to appreciate his worth, and sufficient courage and candor to volunteer the state of her heart to the object for which it beats, or else we may consider his fate as sealed, I suppose." "Mr. Mortimer would never marry any woman who could forget in the slightest degree womanly delicacy or propriety," my wife returned with much dignity. "Then may the saints help him, my dear; for help from CHAPTER II.-WHAT IS THE PLOT? "So, Miss Beaty! My introduction of my friend, John Mortialready acquainted?'' mer, last night, was altogether superfluous, it seems. You were answered Miss Francis loftily, but with that faltering, tell-tale "I have seen the-the gentleman before, cousin Frank," color rushing over her face nevertheless. Dignity is not my cousin's forte; she can be saucy and loving, and pettish and tender, charming always, but she cannot be dignified or awe-inspiring; consequently I pursued the subject, in no wise daunted by the little lady's displeasure. "What, in the name of wonder, did you mean by that awful pause before " gentleman," my dear? What denomination did it take the place of?" "Squatter, perhaps," was the pert answer. "Is not that what the creatures are called, who live in the ontlandish place your friend comes from?'' Certainly not, miss. The term is not euphonious, I admit, but it is neither one of ignominy nor reproach, as you in your ignorance would imply, being only another name for a landed proprietor, and signifying the same thing. My friend was merely a cattle dealer, and I own it puzzles me to imagine when your high mightiness could have met an individual in so lamentably an inferior condition in life." "What does it matter where I met him?" my cousin burst out with a vehemence that quite startled and overwhelmed me, her sweet face crimson, her eyes filling with tears-of anger, of pain, of mortification-of what? "I never wanted to see him ; I wish I never had! Oh, how often I have wished I never, never had! Why did he not stay out at the other side of the world? I thought he was gone for ever." These sentences, full of "evers" and "nevers," came in jerks from lips that quivered pitifully, and when they were ended, two great tears fought their way through restraining lashes, and rolled heavily down her face. If I was utterly surprised, I was moved also. My little cousin was very dear to me; she had been my pet and plaything ever since the day when I, a rough schoolboy, used to steal away from companions of my own sex and age, to play with a pretty toddling baby in a white frock and blue shoes. I took her two hands and drew her up beside me. "My dear," said I, "I ask your pardon if I have jested on a subject toat really touched you in any way. I never dreamed of your having any special interest in Jack Mortimer; how could I?" Hard is it for the mind masculine, to follow the twists and twinings of the one feminine. I had touched the wrong string again. Up went my cousin's head, while a hot flush came to dry up the two great tears. "And I have no interest-special or otherwise-in Mr. Mortimer. He is nothing to me, nor ever will be. I beg you to believe that once for all, Frank." "Of course, dear," said I, goothingly, but taking leave, at the same time, to doubt that assertion under the circumstances. "Any one could see from your meeting last night that your previous acquaintance must have been of the most casual nature. A ball-room one, perhaps, dear, when you danced five out of every six dances with Jack, ate ices together under the orange-trees in a shady conservatory, watched the moon out of the cool balcony, and passed him in the street the next day, without so much as even a glance of recognition. It was something of that kind, wasn't it, my little Béaty?'' “No, Frank-nothing like it. A ball-room and dancing! Oh, no, no! A death-chamber, and dying words rather. Oh, Frank, Frank! I wish I could tell you all!" And with that, poor Beaty nestled her flushed face on to my breast (many a time in the old days she had cried herself to sleep there after some childish grief, or a fit of naughtiness) and wept. "Then tell me, as, indeed, my pet, who has a better right to know all that vexes or pleases you than your poor cousin Frank; and in the dear old days that are gone, Beaty, to whom did you ever carry all your griefs (thank God, they have not been many, nor heavy, my dear!) but to him?" I could not rest, so laying the reins upon the neck of my inclinations, they straightway led me in the direction of The Wild. Mr. Mortimer was at home-yes-would I walk into the study or the dining-room, while Binks went in search of his master, who was somewhere out of doors? "Out of doors? No-I would not come in then. I would prefer finding Mr. Mortimer myself;" and being pretty well acquainted with Jack's habits, I turned confidently down the shrubbery walk that led towards the stables. The responsiblelooking head groom was standing at the door of the harness room (the stable department at The Wild was much more ably administered than the rest of the establishment). He touched his forelock in answer to my inquiry. "Mr. Mortimer? Yes, sir, in the loose box, sir, along of Ajax-mostly there at this time. This way, sir." In the loose box accordingly-an apartment as spacious and much more neatly kept than the dwelling-room of many a family-I found my friend seated, pipe in mouth, and in a very easy position, on one corner of the manger, out of which black Ajax was leisurely partaking of his midday meal, yet lifting his head ever and anon to look into his master's face with that pensive kindness we see in the eyes of the horse or dog that loves Close at Jack's feet, too, lay an animal of the last named species, a splendid kangaroo dog, that, too noble for jealousy, watched yet, with a certain wistfulness, the hand so often withdrawn from its resting-place in the sort of sash Jack wore, in place of a beit or braces, to fondle the horse's short velvet ears or shining crest. us. The man, the horse and the aog, all powerful and beautifal of their kind, made a pretty picture, and venny, Jok Lanc face and kind eyes were not those of a man who could willfully wrong any of God's creatures, great or small. The doubt lying heavy at my heart vanished somehow, when my hand was gripped in that friendly one; but curiosity and "Ah, used, Frank!" she cried, nestling ever closer and interest, deep and overpowering, remained. closer. “And will still-yes; for I have never separated the Beaty of to day from the little child I used to love so dearly; and I claim the right still to be the sharer of all that pleases, all that grieves her; I shall never give it up till one comes between us with a better, aud that can only be a husband." "No husband will ever come between us. Frank, dear, I shall never marry-never!" said Beaty, with much energy, through her tears; and beyond reiterating this presently, when she sat up and dried her eyes, I could extract nothing at all from my cousin on the subject that moved her. I had loved this little girl very dearly. I had been accustomed to think of her as mine by a peculiarly near and familiar tie. I was wounded to think the woman could have a secret, when the child had confided all. I was hurt, and I suppose I showed it, for with a faltering smile Beatrice put her arms round my neck as she said, "There are some things-some troubles-that are best never told, dear Frank, I think, and this is one of them. It could do me no good, and would, perhaps, be wrong also, since another person is concerned in it. You could not help me, dear, no, not if it were possible to wish to do so more than you do which could not be, I know-and-and it's nothing new-and I don't often think of it now-only, last night, it all seemed to come back so freshly. I am afraid I have been very silly, and pained you needlessly. Don't speak or think of it any more, and I will try and forget it also." "One word, Beatrice; do you know that Mr. Mortimer is our near neighbor and constant visitor? Tell me, my dear, would you rather not see him any more, while you remain here?" "Oh! I don't know; I don't care, Frank; let that be as he likes," agaia with that burning color; "don't say any more about it ;" and with this I was obliged to be content. Feign to be so, I mean, for content I certainly was not. A horrible, haunting idea that Jack Mortimer, whom I had hitherto sworn by, as the worthiest, kindest, most chivalrous of men, had fallen short somehow of right doing where my little cousin was concerned, beset me painfully. It seemed incredible, and yet how otherwise account for what had passed between my cousin and me? Jack duly inquired after Mrs. Marchmont's health, but referred in no way to our visitor or his recognition of her, and biding my time I made none either. After half an hour with Ajax, stable topics, local matters, crops, and neighborly talk generally, we sauntered away from the stable precincts, out under a row of flowering limes, where the bees were making drowsy music. One of those intervals of silence had befallen-that more than anything, almost, goes to show the complete intimacy that subsists between those who indulge it in each other's society-and presently into this silence stole the plaintive music of that melody of last night, whistled very deftly and sweetly, whistled as I think only one man can execute that accomplishment, that man being Jack Mortimer. I let him finish and then turned rather suddenly"By-the-by, Jack, you never told me you were acquainted with my cousin, Beatrice Francis !" Jack's brown face gained a perceptible access of color. "Didn't I? Well-no-I dare say I never did. I saw her once, I think, before I went to Australia, five years ago-never since I came home, till last night. I don't even know, being mightily ignorant on such matters, whether one meeting gives me any right to claim acquaintanceship with Miss Franciswhat should you say, Frank?" "That it depends upon the circumstances under which the meeting took place, of course," I answered, remembering with great perplexity Beaty's reference to death-chambers and dying words. Uuder what possible combination of circumstances could these, my friend Jack, and my little cousin be associated? I had been quite as accustomed to suppose I possessed Jack's confidence as well as that of my cousia; yet bere evidently was a mystery I was not to know, and one that had existed for five years, apparently, without my ever having had an inkling of it. I had felt wounded on the first discovery; by this time I began to experience a feeling of injury, and, with perhaps unwise frankness, avowed the same. Jack withdrew his pipe from his lips, shook out the ashes in troubled silence, put the pipe slowly into its case, and the case into his pocket, before he spoke. "I hate mysteries and secrets; they are not at all in my way, | rippled hair drawn into a knot behind the ears; I could fancy as you know, old friend. I never expected the thing to befall me that I could not talk over with you; but, Frank, there comes something into most men's lives, sooner or later, that they do not care to speak of, that no good could come of speaking of, and besides-" He paused and then added, "This is not my own affair either, entirely-another is concerned as well as I-" Why, those were Beaty's very words and reasons for denying me any explanation," I ejaculated in intense astonishment. "Have you spoken to Miss Francis-to your cousin on the subject?" asked Jack, flushing. "Certainly, and got the same amount of satisfaction as from yourself." "Thank heaven, then, that I never breathed a word of it to living creature," said Jack. "I might have done it one day to you, Frank, though I never regarded myself as having any right to talk of it. But tell Miss Francis-assure her from me, that I never have, never will now-she need never fear any allusion, not the slightest, to what is gone, from me-tell her this, please, Frank," said Jack, earnestly. "I'll tell her nothing of the kind. Hang me if I ever speak to either of you again on the matter!" I answered, losing patience;" and I wish your future wife joy of the nice little Bluebeard secret you carry about with you, Jack !" "I shall never marry," Jack said quietly. "Grant me patience," I cried out; "she said tha, too!'' "Did she?'' inquired Jack, very earnestly. the very look on the downcast face at this moment, though it was turned from me-and then-well-yes, I knew my cousin Beaty's usual walking dress of simple holland, and the little velvet hat with the bright wing-in which she looked-like herself, in short, and like no one else ever did, in my eyes. And if this was unmistakably my cousin Beatrice, the tall gentleman in light morning clothes, the set of which was somehow so indescribably loose and casy, who stood hat in hand beside her, speaking so earnestly, and looking so steadily at the bent-down face that yet turned towards him too, was no less certainly Mr. John Mortimer. How long had this conference between these two apparently hostile powers lasted? How long was it going to last? Was a truce being declared, war determined on? Or was peace, mildeyed and beautiful, hovering sweetly over this communing pair? How could I tell, who had never been admitted within the mysterious circle that seemed somehow to enclose these two? Should I advance now, on my way, which would lead me straight upon the unconscious creatures? or should I turn back and pretend I had not seen what I had? While I still remained dubious, pondering these things, Beaty turned and saw me; and observing that without an instant's hesitation she came slowly towards me, and that Mr. Mortimer followed her, I in my turn advanced. I did not care to look too closely into the child's face, as she came up and quietly put her hand within my arm, but I did The next minute be turned away his head, and i heard him look at Jack. I, Ga! amy, Amy !" He colored a little, but be met my eyes very frankly and In a new in nutes more Jack and I parted, for the first time in steadily, and when he held out his hand, it was with the unmisour lives, with mutual relief. CHAPTER III.-IN SEARCH OF SOCIETY. A WEEK, a fortnight went by; long days of rich unclouded sunshine, evenings of tranquil sweetness, evenings long, and still, all perfumy with the breath of flowers, like those Jack had declared made the loneliness of his empty old house intolerable to him; but neither glancing sunshine, nor tranquil sunset brought my old friend any more to Meadowsleigh. I cannot tell all that want was to me; I scarce knew myself; and I chafed angrily, as I was forced to own that I was powerless to do anything but mourn over it. Who but Jack himself, could judge how far his presence was fitting in the house where the sharer of this precious mystery was for the present domiciled ? At the end of the first week I had called at The Wild; but Mr. Mortimer was from home, and "ot expected to return till night; at the end of another, I sallied forth once more in that direction. The footway to the domain called The Wild led up through my own grounds, crossed the high road, and entered my friend's by a low gate. The day was one of these same summer ones, bright and still, hot and glowing. Brilliant sunshine steeped all the fields of waving grain, fast ripening now to harvest, in floods of golden light; but the arching trees that met overhead, above the pretty woodland path I walked, only admitted here and there glimpses of that glowing splendor. Shadows, broad and cool, closed all around me; the light that came in here, all soft, and dim, and broken, caused one to think of solemn old churches in a land beyond the sea; dim with painted windows, misty with incensed altars, and grave with the gathered memories of all the bygone years. Perhaps, too, of trysting-places, and waiting lovers, all the joy of meeting made tremulous, and sorrowfully sweet, by the shadow of that inevitable parting that waits upon all meetings here. As this last thought strayed across my fancy, I reached a sudden opening in the trees around me, through which the pathway wound, and turning into it, I came to an abrupt halt in utter and uubounded surprise. Lovers and trysting-places, truly! Why, what was this, and who were these, standing among the flickering shadows yonder? Surely I could not mistake that figure, full of graceful lines and flexile curves; I knew every one of them by heart. I knew, too, the downward bend of that golden head, with its pretty takable look about him, somehow, of a man who never had, who never could do anything he was ashamed to be caught in. "I was on my way to The Wild, Jack." "Were you? It is well we fell in, then, for I was coming over to call on Mrs. Marchmont, whom it seems an age since I saw. I met Miss Francis a few yards from here, and learnt she was at home. Was that simple inquiry the one Jack was making so earnestly as I came upon them? We all turned, and strolled back towards Meadowsleigh together, I disguising whatever curiosity I had (I may as well own, it was intense) under, as I flatter myself, a very perfectly simulated aspect of unconsciousness that my companions stood towards each other in any than the ordinary relations of a lady and gentleman who met then and there, for the second or third time in their lives; but I speedily arrived at the conviction that that confabulation among the trees, which I had interrupted, had partaken of the nature of a truce, or an accommodation, at least, the demeanor of the contracting parties was so evidently in accordance with rules and regulations laid down and agreed upon. Jack did not, as on the occasion of their former meeting in my drawing-room, refrain from addressing or even glancing in the direction of Miss Francis; on the contrary, he studiously, not to say laboriously, endeavored to include her in the desultory talk by which we beguiled the way; and poor little Beaty, with a manger lamentably differing from her usual one, all the careless flow of her pretty talk sobered into constrained and measured cadence, gravely followed his lead. I think both were glad when we reached the house, and they were released from any necessity of keeping up this show of common intercourse. But from this time the communication between The Wild and Meadowsleigh was resumed upon something of its old footing; and yet no, for I never now, as I threw up my window of a morning, and leaned out to inhale the health-giving breeze of early morn, was greeted by a cheery voice nor gladdened with a sight of Jack Mortimer, coming, with those long quiet strides of his, across the dewy lawn of Meadowsleigh in time for an early breakfast. He did not drop in to luncheon, nor saunter up between the lights in his old fashion. It is true he might still have come at some of these times, but never now without being asked. Nor did these symptoms of an agreed on and regulated demeanor towards each other, which I had detected at first between my cousin and my friend, disappear on continued | held out her hand to Mr. Mortimer with ever so quiet a smile, intercourse. They showed now, in a mitigated form, perhaps, and then swept away, before we could turn and accompany but they were still osservable. ber. And over my little cousin a shadow had fallen, that, try to hide it as she would, she could not cover from my sight. I could not accuse her of moping or pining-she did not sullenly turn her back upon life and its duties, refuse companionship, nor decline her daily meals. No; whatever her trouble was, she strove with it, as the good, healthy-minded English girl she was, and had evidently never a thought of giving up, nor giving in. But as I noted sometimes how the sweet laughter would filter into sudden silence-the words lightly begun end in a sigh-her pretty, childish beauty deepen, and sadden at times, into thoughtful womanhood-my heart was sore within me. My little Beaty! thou wert very dear to me; but, alas! what buman love avails to shield its object from the doon of all the world? I could only stand silently on one side, and grieve that it had come at last upon thee-that burden and heat of thy day bere, which I could neither lighten nor share. Ah! I think there are few sadder moments in life than these-these in which we realise with a cruel pang that all our love, tender and true though it be, is powerless. "The world goes sobbing through space;" none who live upon it can escape the doom of sorrow, and regret, and tears. And so summer days stole away on noiseless feet, and with the autumn came that time for Jack, which, let us hope, is seldom one of rejoicing, pure and unalloyed; that time when expectation becomes fulfillment, and the heir comes into his kingdom. The kind old maiden lady at Charleswood went quietly to her rest, and John Mortimer of The Wild, was now also lord of the fair domain of Charleswood, and a personage of considerable importance in the county where it was situate. But when he came last to The Wild after some weeks of absence, and we walked under the limes, whose leaves shivered silently to the ground beneath our feet, I was vexed to observe that my old friend was disposed to treat this fact but lightly, and that in his mood and conversation generally there was a discontent, and gloom almost, quite unwonted in him. His sudden appearance, during my stroll, was somewhat unexpected, and I said so as I welcomed him. "I seem to have been away an age, too," he answered, hastily; "and I came upon my soul, I hardly know why I came, except that I was horridly lonely up at Charleswood, and no wonder! Not that The Wild is much better, though, only, at any rate, I don't miss there a kind old face I used to know. Frank, if it had not been for the dear old lady I should never have come home, I think; and since she's gone, I can't do better than go back again. I declare, if it was possible, I'd go back to the bush to-morrow." "In search of society ?" I inquired. Jack laughed, but the next instant he sighed. Jack looked after her for an instant, and there was trouble in his eye. "Miss Francis is not looking well," he said; "she has grown thin and pale." CHAPTER IV.-BETWEEN THE LIGHTS. THERE was no prettier nor cosier room in all comfortable and picturesque old Meadowsleigh than that one appropriated to its master, and called "Mr. Marchmont's study." It was sacred to myself, and I was chary of allowing the intrusion of my household across its threshold, feeling that the "business" in which I talked solemnly of being engaged during a quiet hour or so, when it pleased me to retire from the bosom of my family into its comfortable seclusion, might perhaps suffer in the respect of its members, if they found how often it was transacted with a cigar between my lips and in a position of recumbancy on a lounge constructed with many cunning contrivances for insuring the greatest amount of comfort, with the least expenditure of effort, on the part of the individual who sought its sleepy hollow. The fire had sunk down into a deep red glow on the wide tesselated hearth, my favorite hound was sleeping peacefully in its heat, all the room was full of brooding shadows, and that wavering glow from the fire only very dimly defined the large person of Jack Mortimer as he lay extended very much at his ease on that same lounge. A tap at the long window that opens upon the shrubbery. "If you please, sir, Jones would thank ye to walk down to the stable. Lady Betty went dead lame to-day, sir, while one of the boys had her out exercising, sir." Uttering an anathema upon boys in general, and stable boys in particular, I caught up my cap and hastened away without a word of excuse to Jack, who was, moreover, half asleep. I might, perhaps, have been absent half an hour, for I had to wait the veterinary surgeon's arrival and report upon the disaster of my favorite mare; and when I presently re-entered my sanctum, which I did by the window, as I departed, I stood still a moment surveying the sight that presented itself to my eyes. Not with surprise-no-I flatter myself I had entirely overcome any tendency to that emotion where Jack Mortimer and my cousin Beaty were concerned; for of course, those young people composed the tableau on which I looked. It was not otherwise than a pretty one, I am bound to confess that. There was Jack seated easily back on my favorite restingplace, and by his side-and so very close, that Jack's arm could scarce have found a position anywhere but round her waistnestled Miss Beaty. As far as I knew, he had bardly hitherto "Ah! you may laugh at the idea of a man who has been five touched the little finger-tips of my pretty cousin, and now-lo years in the bush, crying out at the solitude of an old country-but I was calm, and advanced into the charmed circle within house under bachelor rule; but I can tell you solitude is not at the firelight, as if for a lady and gentleman apparently on the all the same thing there-nothing like boredom in the bush, most formal terms of acquaintanceship, to assume the present Frank; and somehow a friend's face seems all the more worth relative position of these two, was among my most ordinary and seeing, when you have ridden over fifty miles of green slope familiar experiences. and swell, with that sole end in view. In fact, I think a man must go to the bush before he really understands the meaning of the word "neighbor." No offence to you, old boy." "None in the world; but, for a gentleman of passably engaging manners, decidedly handsome means, in a moderately populous and sociably disposed neighborhood, to complain of solitude, and talk of flying to the bush for society, strikes me as a fact requiring explanation. If Charleswood and The Wild are dull, fill them with friendly faces, dear lad; they are never turned away from such as thee." But Jack shook his head. “Wish me joy, Frank, old fellow," said Jack, jumping up then. "I wish you all possible joy," I answered meekly; none the less sincerely, that I don't in the least know of what." "I should think it was plain enough, too," Mr. Mortimer answered, turning to draw Beaty up beside him; "but I am afraid you are vexed, old boy, that we should have had a secret from you all this time. I suppose we have each fancied it the other's; but now it can be vours, toɔ, Frank, if Beaty will tell it." "Not I, Jack. I came here this evening meaning to tell "The dear old country seems o nave grown small, Frank. Frank, and made a sad mess of it (here she glanced up at Jack, I feel in the way here." with the most enchanting look imaginable). You do it this time. Sit here, Frank, dear." We were just at the end of the shadowy avenue of limes as he spoke, and the next instant there was a faint rustle among the And my little cousin, bless her loving heart! seeing that I withered leaves on the grass, and my cousin Beaty glided into was grave (which I was, through sheer bewilderment), and fearit, and faced us. We both started a little, but the little ladying that I was wounded, sat down by me on the side not next |