CHAPTER II. MINNIE THORN's world was her rustic home. It was comfortable, clean as hands could make it, and more attractive to her, with its shadowing trees and mantling creepers, than the gloomy grandeur of the pile of turrets and chimneys upon the hill. Old Mr. Lisle, a proud, weak man, vain of his wealth and position, drove by the cottage door almost daily, bestowing but a careless stare upon the inhabitants, as upon objects too far beneath his notice to awaken curiosity. Eleanor's sweeping habit, streaming plumes and bold horsemanship excited wonder, not envy, in Minnie's breast; and still less did she grudge her the attendance of the moustached, military-looking man, who was her cavalier as invariably as another person, similarly bearded, but foreign in physiognomy and form, sat beside Miss Agnes in the soft-rolling carriage. Serenely complacent in her happiness, they troubled her less than she did them; for, often a scorching ray from Eleanor's flashing eye fell upon her simply-attired figure and Harry's white shirtsleeves as they talked together in the cottage porch on a summer's evening; and over Agnes' full red lips flitted a smile of disdain. One afternoon Eleanor and her lover rode by, unaccompanied by carriage or groom. The lane, a private one, was crossed by a gate a few yards below the cottage. It had rained in the morning, and the bars and latch were black and wet. The cap⚫tain bent over his horse's neck to the fastening, but Eleanor "But the gate must be opened," he replied. 'True," said Eleanor. "Call the cobbler out." Minnie was at the window, and arose to retire from view; but the captain espied her. "Ask your husband to open this gate, will you?" said he, in a tone neither respectful nor exactly insolent. "He is not at home, sir," she replied, coloring. "Then come yourself!" said Miss Lisle, imperiously. "Make haste! we are in a hurry!" With crimson cheeks and shaking hands, Minnie performed the service demanded. Eleanor seemed as if she would have ridden over her, so impetuous was the forward leap of her steed through the gateway; and, as the captain struck his rowels into his charger's side to pursue her, he flung a sixpence to Minnie. This was too much! She stamped it into the earth, and burst into tears. "She was not a slave, to be ordered about and insulted by these purseproud Lisles! Harry was as good a man as the best of them, and she was his wife. He should know of their conduct as soon as he came back!" She had dried her tears, and was busy pruning the rosetree, when a gentler voice accosted her. It was Wilton Lisle, also on horseback, who inquired for "Mr. Thorn." She returned the answer she had given before. "Ah! well," said he. "I will call as I return. I wish to see him on business. Good-day." "He is a gentleman," thought Minnie, her wounded vanity mollified by his courteous demeanor. "Very different from the rest of the family! I don't know that it will do any good to complain to Harry. He is warm and hasty, and I should be sorry to have him quarrel with his landlord." He was Her prudent resolution was established, as he removed his hat and wiped his heated brow after his long walk. tired and hungry; she must refresh, not annoy him. Their supper was dispatched, and the young couple repaired to their seat in the little rustic porch. The moon, glancing through the elms, floored the porch with arabesque mosaics; the air .came fragrantly over the mown hayfields; and the insects were chirping their vespers in the short turf of the orchard. "God's blessings are free to all!" said Harry, drawing his wife's head to his shoulder. "We enjoy this evening as much as though we lived on the hill, instead of in the valley. Don't we. Minnie?" rather "Yes," said she, somewhat reluctantly; "I had be Minnie Thorn, the shoemaker's wife, than Miss Lisle ; but But what?" said Harry. lowly home already?" ordered in this world. I am content; but you are good and noble, and, if self-educated, greatly superior to that proud and conceited Mr. Lisle." "Minnie," said her husband, "take care!" "You are, Harry!" she continued, "And why is he put above you? Why has he the right to dictate to and oppress you?" What has "Minnie, darling, he is not above me," said Harry; "but our positions are different. In the sight of our Maker we are equal, although his means are more ample, his responsibilities heavier than mine. As to enjoyment, his heart is void toRiches do not purnight in comparison with my full content. chase happiness, Minnie, nor do honors always secure the self-respect of him to whom they are awarded. brought on this unusual frame of mind, little one?" "Oh, nothing?" said she, evasively. "Listen!" said Harry; "do you not hear a horse's tramp?" "Yes," she replied; "it is young Mr. Lisle," "He is kind and agreeable, even if he is rich; eh, Minnie?" As Harry spoke Wilton galloped up to the gate across the road, and stooped to open it; but his horse shied. "Let me open it, sir," said Harry; "he is skittish." "Thank you; but stand aside, if you please. not, he must do as I choose. Now, sir!" said Wilton, and his whip descended upon his flanks. The animal reared and plunged, but refused to approach the gate. By main force Wilton brought him within reach of the latch, and again, as he leaned towards it was jerked away. Spur, rein and lash were exercised upon the refractory brute at once. He arose high in the air, vaulted and cleared the gate, falling upon his forehead with a concussion that broke his neck, and dashed his hapless master to the ground some distance off. Skittish or He has been vicious all day. Wilton did not unclose his eyes in consciousness until seven days after. He was in unknown quarters. The whitewashed ceiling was lower than that of his own chamber at the villa; the walls were bare, except where a single engraving hung; the sheets were clean, but their texture were many degrees coarser than the fine linen which had covered his couch from boyhood. It was early morning; he knew this by the dewiness and odor of the breeze that flapped the curtain of the lattice-framed window. He remembered nothing since his going forth to ride. vation of the beauty of the day attracted his eyes to the Where had he passed the night? A softly-uttered obserspeaker, who sat in the door between this and the next apartment. He saw the very scene he had described to his scornful sister after his first visit to the shoemaker. The waxed ends and the needle were moving as rapidly as then; but their progress was noiseless, and the song hushed. "If Mr. Lisle could breathe this air, it would revive him," I continued Minnie. "He was very restless all night." "And you would sit up alone!" said Harry, reproachfully. "Put down your sewing, Minnie- your eyes are dim." "Really, Mr. Thorn?'' began Miss Lisle, "this is obeying the doctor's directions! He enjoined quiet, and you are here, with your lapstone and hammer in his very ears! Doctor, danger or no danger, he must be carried up to the villa to-day. Better kill him at once than torture him in this way!" Minnie spoke quickly and fearlessly to vindicate her husband. "The bench and lapstone are out of doors, where their "My Minnie is not tired of her noise cannot reach the house, Miss Lisle. He only brings such work in here as can be done quietly." "No, indeed!" she replied. "But things are so strangely "Tut!" was the unfeminine response; and, gathering up her robes about her, she picked her way daintily over the spot- His bright face had looked troubled for an instaut, but he anless floor to the bedside. "How is your patient, Dr. Bailey?swered, smilingly, "An enemy hath done this. But I will live Why, he is awake and sensible! Wilton?'' He motioned her to put her ear to his mouth, and summonéd all his strength for the energetic whisper, "I am grieved and ashamed of you! Send that woman away! I won't have her about me." Neither Dr. Bailey nor his sister could alter his purpose. "Send her away," he said; "I will have no nurse but Mrs. Thorn!" And most unwillingly did they confide him to her care. it down, Minnie; never fear!" How far his probity and unflagging energy might have enabled him to do this was not to be proved. On a dreary autumn day, he walked five miles to carry home some work, for which "it was not convenient" for the rich farmer "to pay him just then ;" and on his weary and sad way back he was caught in a violent shower of rain. Drenched and shivering, he reached his dwelling, and Minnie's tender skill was inadequate to ward off an attack of acute ague and pleurisy. It is trying to the most resigned to lie, useless and helpless, A strong friendship grew up between the youthful pair and their sick guest. To them he was docile and patient; his sis-upon our couch of languishing, set carefully without the ter's visits always left him uneasy or fretful. Their perfumed handkerchiefs suffocated him; their silks rustled, and their jewelled fingers did not soothe him as did Minnie's cool hand upon his brow. No marvel that he was voted, in family conclave, "obstinate" and "whimsical," "perfectly infatuated with the society of those low people!" It was a sorrowful day when his removal could be no longer postponed. He was able to walk about the room, and looked much as formerly, only paler and thinner. Harry laid aside his work to chat with him awhile, before the carriage arrived to bear him away; and Minnie hovered around, "a smile on her lip, a tear in her eye," busied in little arrangements for his comfort. "She will have it I am as good as new, despite my fractured skull," said Wilton to his host. thronged path of busy life, yet with its din penetrating our His illness was tedious. For awhile, his slender savings and her industry kept them above water; but nearer and nearer "And you are!" interposed Minnie. "When the hair grows stalked want. On Christmas Eve, Minnie carried her clock-a over the temple they shaved, it will conceal the scar." "It was an ugly scratch,' he remarked, examining its zigzag lines in a glass; "an inch lower, and my good looks would have been ruined." "A hair's breadth deeper," thought Harry, "and what then?-Minnie has the most singular scar upon her wrist I ever saw," he said aloud. "It is a well defined butterfly." Minnie bared her plump wrist and showed it, a wonderfully accurate figure. A coal of fire had fallen into her cradle, while she was an infant, and burned her, she said. "Harry says, if I run away this mark will certainly betray me." Wilton had but a short time to spare, and he employed it in an ineffectual endeavor to persuade Harry Thorn to accept some substantial token of his gratitude. He offered him the cottage rent free for life, or as long as he chose to occupy it, when he refused direct pecuniary compensation. Harry was thankful, but stubborn. "Oh, bridal gift-to the wife of a small farmer near by, who had ad- "You are starving!" said he. "Oh, no, dear Harry!" said she; "I have food enough, and could eat with an excellent appetite, if you could enjoy it with me." "But the doctor's bill, Minnie," he replied; it must be met." "It shall," said Minnie; "and Dr. Bailey is rich enough to "I can support her myself while health and strength last," he replied. 'My daily thanksgiving is, 'I owe no man any-wait." thing.' Rob me of my independence, and you deprive labor of its zest. You say I am born for a higher station than this.' "But one promise," pleaded Wilton. "If you are nate or disabled, you will apply to me first of all." "The rich are not always the merciful," murmured Harry. Rap! rap! struck the head of a cane against the door; and Minnie went to it. A thickset man, his great coat and hat covered with snow, walked in unceremoniously, nodded, with a "Sick! eh?" to Harry; and shook himself before the fire, with the gesture and splutter of a huge water dog. Your name is unfortu-Thorn, I believe?" he said, approaching the bed. Yes, sir;" was the faint reply, followed by a distressing fit of coughing. "I will," replied Harry, relaxing his proud tone, and his eyes moistened as he gave his hand to the generous youth. Wilton did not mend as rapidly after his return home, and his uncertain gait and pallid cheek alarmed his selfish parent for the succession of his name and estates. Avaricious only when the welfare and aggrandisement of his family were not concerned, his pursestrings were put into his son's fingers when Dr. Bailey recommended that he should again travel for some months. With his going, the villa and the cottage were separated by an unbridged chasm. The tossing cataract of life at one did not disturb the sunny ripple of the other. As winter approached, however, Harry became conscious of a countercurrent, sluggish at first, but gaining power so steadily as to excite serious misgivings. He was surprised that the cold weather brought such a trifling increase to his earnings; but another shoemaker had settled in the village, and he received no more orders from the villa. "I have called for the rent. Can you pay it?" "Not at the moment, sir." Well, your rent is due on the 1st of January, and Mr. Lisle asked me to call and collect it or to distrain." "I paid him a quarter in advance," said Harry. "Of course!" said the man; "or you wouldn't ha' got the house; but there's three-quarters owing." "I am entirely unprepared for this," said Harry, the blood rushing to his temples at the fellow's impertinence. "My sickness has obliged me to use the money intended to meet my rent. I never expected that Mr. Lisle would press me for it; if I recover, it is safe." "If! He don't believe in 'ifs,' nor I neither," said the man. "I'll come and see you on New Year's Day, and then it must be paid." There was a grand ball at the house on the hill that night; "What will you do?" asked Minnie, as he heard that his and the snowflakes' quiet fall, incessant though it was, did not rival had been sent for to the houses of two of his best custom-deter the most delicate of the bidden guests from venturing ers, to measure their children and servants for their winter out. They did not feel the cold in their close carriages and sboes. warm furs; but through the drifts there struggled a pedestrian in the same direction, whose limbs were stiffened and sore from her walk. The hall door was stretched wide, having just admitted a group of visitors; and as she paused in the porch to brush her cloak and shoes, a young man crossed the hall, in stature and general appearance so like Wilton, that she sprang forward with a glad cry, "Oh! Mr. Lisle! you have come." But she checked herself as she saw his face. "I am Wilton Lisle's cousin," he replied. "Can I do anything for you. Do you wish to see either of the ladies?" His friendly smile encouraged her. Too diffident to apply directly to the stately landlord, and with tolerable confidence in her ability to move one of her own sex, she complied with his invitation to walk in, asking to see Miss Lisle "for a few minutes." He showed her into a small library, warm and bright as summer, and upon whose rich, flowered carpet she almost feared to tread. Over the mantelpiece hung a small oval picture of a lady, so like Miss Lisle and her brother, she could not doubt that it was their mother; and she was still gazing into its dark eves and gathering assurance from their mildness, when Eleanor's voice sounded at the opening door. "Three minutes; just three!" said she, coquettishly. "Three centuries," responded a voice, Minnie knew for the moustached captain's. "I shall count the seconds." "Very well. Let me know when you are tired of the employment;" and she shut him out. Stately she looked and moved in her chameleon velvet robe of brown and gold, the white shoulders swelling above the narrow edge of lace. Upon one strayed a curl that seemed to have escaped from the braids of its kindred tresses, of precisely the hue of her dress. Diamonds sparkled upon her neck and arms; and although Minnie was ignorant of their value, she was overawed by the splendor of this imposing apparition. The smile retreated from Miss Lisle's lips as she recognised her visitant. "Did you send for me?" she inquired, in indignant surprise. 66 'Yes, madam," faltered Minnie; then, as the image of Harry, sick and lonely and miserable, rose in her mind, she forgot all else. "My husband is very ill and cannot work. The little I can do just procures food and fire; yet a man came today with a message from Mr. Lisle, threatening us for the rent of our cottage. Miss Lisle, you are a lady, and can feel for us in our destitution. Harry does not ask to be forgiven the debt, but for time. He is honest and honorable; your father will never regret his indulgence. Will you not intercede for us?'' Her language and manner were so different from what might have been looked for in one of her station, that the vain, illfurnished heart of the proud beauty felt a pang of jealousy firing the dislike she already had for the "cobbler and his wife." would be homeless. She was stunned and irresolute. Harryhigh-minded to the last-had strictly forbidden the most distant allusion to the services they had rendered their landlord's son. Her inquiry as to his address was wrung from her by the agony of the moment; and a clutching at this straw was the only sign her mind gave of vitality. There was a tap at the door; then it was opened, and the captain looked in. "Where is Miss Lisle?" he inquired hastily. Minnie's answer was a request at which he started. "Can you give me Mr. Wilton Lisle's address, sir?" With a bold stare he wheeled towards the door. The almost delirious woman followed. Wilton's cousin was still in the hall, apparently watching for her. "Hazlitt, a word in your ear," said the captain, linking arms; but ere his whisper was concluded, his friend broke from him. "Are you the Mrs. Thorn who nursed Mr. Wilton Lisle after his accident?" 'Yes, sir," she replied. He wrote hurriedly upon a card, and gave it to Minnie. "That is his address. You will make no improper use of it, I know." She seized it, and stammering her thanks, wrapped her cloak around her and went out in the storm Mr. Hazlitt took his departure upon the succeeding day, or the memory of his cousin and friend might have induced him to inquire into the condition of poor Mrs. Thorn. Prompt as was Mr. Lisle's agent, Dr. Bailey was as quick, and the benevolent Galen, whose love for money was only equalled by his thirst for popularity, aware of the evil feelings of the Lisles towards his debtors, forwarded both of these darling objects by taking out a summons for his bill; and the same broker who levied for the rest, swept away everything that then remained to satisfy the doctor's bill. "The law must be obeyed," said her myrmidons; and she was, to the pound of flesh, for Harry Thorn lay that night in the union-house; in a week, in the repose that knows no troubling, he filled a pauper's grave. CHAPTER III. Ir was one of the hottest days of an unusually sultry August, and the sun poured fiercely upon a small weather-boarded building, opposite to which dangled in the wind a croaking sign, with some nondescript animal painted in white upon it, below which was inscribed, "By Sarah Wills." By an open window, engaged in sewing, sat a young woman meanly-dressed, yet perfectly clean and tidy. She was not yet five-and-twenty; but her expression was unnaturally gloomy; the eyes seemed to have wept their last tears, so stern was their "I have nothing to do with my father's business. I cannot dejection; she looked like one, not prepared for the worst, but interfere," she said, coldly. to whom it had already come. Yet she was very lovely. The "But you are his child," said Minnie; "he will not refuse cold despair of the eye did not fade in its lustre; and the you." habitual compression of the lips gave character to a feature that might else have been of too soft a beauty. "I shall not make the attempt," said Eleanor, and she turned to go. Minnie caught her robe. Its magnificence was nothing to her now. "Miss Lisle, my husband will die if he is driven out in this weather. Leave us our poor shelter; you, who have every luxury, spare us a home!" "You are very presumptuous. Are you insane?" and her fingers were loosed from their hold. "Take him to your relations or the union. We cannot provide for paupers." "I have no relatives except my mother and sister, who are far away. My dear, dear mother! she never thought her child would beg in vain for a place to lay her head! Oh, Miss Lisle, you had a mother!" she pointed to her portrait; "for her sake pity us!" "I have said all that I can," replied the beauty, reddening with anger and rising shame. "If my father had consulted me you would never have been his tenants." A stir ran through the house; a troop of children scampered to the outer door, and then the sharp tones of Mrs. Wills rang out piercingly, "Mike, Mike! come and take these horses !" "My servants will attend to them, madam," said a decided voice; and, for the first time, the young woman looked out upon the arrival. A travelling-carriage was in the road; a livery servant was removing the baggage and another disengaging one of the horses from the harness. The animal was trembling, and scarcely able to stand, yet he turned his head intelligently as his master came to his side. The gentleman might have been fifty-or he might have been seventy-so erect was his carriage and so blanched his locks; his features had a foreign cast, and he spoke with a slightly foreign accent. "Take him to the stable," he ordered. "I will see to him myself. Madam," said he to the officious landlady, "can I Wills preceded him, inquisitive and bustling; but the dignified | they arose and saluted her. She appeared like a lady of rank valet stayed not to listen or reply. "De Tracy," read Mrs. Wills upon one of the trunks. "I wonder where he came from and where he's goin'? Good gracious, how heavy! Full of money, maybe." The needlewoman was silent. "Ain't you done that shirt yet?" exclaimed her mistress, jerking up a sleeve. "You ain't worth the salt to your bread. Git up and clear away your scraps and litter. Folks like Mr. De Tracy don't stop here every day.' The stranger's bell rang. "He would have a cup of tea and a slice of toast," he said. His servants were attending to the horses; and Mrs. Wills, while sneering at his "fine airs who didn't want dinner of her cookery," reverenced his equipage and luggage too sincerely to be unaccommodating. "Here, Laveny," said the landlady, and the young woman above-mentioned arose from the table; "do you take in the tea, and wait till he's done; and, mind you, ask him what else he'll have." The traveller was pacing his chamber with a firm military tread that gave no indication of fatigue or infirmity. He seated himself at her entrance. Setting the tray before him she retired to a window, and gazed listlessly from it, unconscious that his falcon eye was upon her. He did not withdraw it until his meal was finished, when he recommenced his promenade. It was, however, arrested by her question, "Do you wish anything more, sir?'' Her voice was sweet, and had no vulgar tone. That brief sentence gave evidence of her dissimilarity to the family into which she had been cast. "Thanks," ," he replied, "I shall take nothing more to night;" upon which the young woman wished him good-night and retired. He remained the following day, taking his meals in his room. and preserving in Lavinia's presence the same silence until evening, when, as she handed him his tea, he addressed her abruptly. "I have learnt your name, and have a proposition to make to you, Mrs. Thorn, which may appear strange; but I beg you to hear me through. You are young, poor and dependent. I am rich and my own master. I feel daily the need of a companion and a stay under my increasing infirmities. I feel, moreover, that I have been led hither by a kind of fatality in order that I might meet with the companion I want; and I am persuaded that in you I have found her. Therefore, madam, I propose to marry you, take you abroad to afford you such advantages of education as my wife must have; then, returning to Ireland, to introduce you into the best society. I ask of you only the duty and attention an indulgent husband may ask of a wife. While I finish my meal, you can deliberate upon my offer. If you are the woman I take you for, your answer will be ready when I have finished." Beyond a start at the beginning of his speech, she exhibited no sign of confusion or surprise; and now, withdrawing to the window, she looked forth with the same immobility of countenance, never stirring until he pushed aside his cup. Then she took up the waiter, saying, calmly, “My situation cannot be worse. I accept your offer; stipulating, however, that the ceremony shall be performed here by the vicar, the only friend I have that cares for me hereabouts." "It is well," said he. "This is the 20th of August. On the 20th of November I shall be here again. Make no preparations, but expect me. Remember, the 20th of November. Good-night." Three months more of petty tyranny and insulting jeers and uncomplaining toil. Winter had already given notice of its approach; the leaves had fallen, and the first snow was on the ground, when the De Tracy carriage again halted at the door of the White Horse. Four gentlemen alighted; and Mrs. Wills recognised, with astonishment unspeakable, the good vicar, and two substantial farmers of the neighboribg village. But one trunk was removed this time, and Simmons carried it in to "Mrs. Thorn," who accepted it without remark. It contained a complete suit of travelling apparel, and ere Mrs. Wills, having recovered from her wordless amaze, had exhausted a tenth of her invec tives, the bride presented herself in the room where the gentlemen were waiting. With involuntary and profound respect, | who had put off her disguise, rather than the maid-servant of a roadside inn assuming one, so well did the habit of gray silk, the rich cashmere, the velvet bonnet and plume become her. Disregarding Mrs. Wills' abuse and interrogations, she advanced and laid her hand in the proffered one of Colonel de Tracy, for by this title his companions addressed him, when, leading her to the carriage, the party at once proceeded to the little church which skirted the green of which the White Horse formed the northern boundary. The ceremony over, a certificate of the marriage, signed by the minister, was given into the bride's keeping. The coachman mounted the box, and Simmons stood holding the carriage-door for his new mistress. Mrs. Wills disdainfully repelled her attempt to bid a civil farewell; but her righteous indignation did not urge her to the length of refusing the munificent douceur tendered by the colonel in the name of "Mrs. De Tracy." The whip cracked, the horses started off, bearing not Minnie Thorn, "the cobbler's" widow, but Lavinia De Tracy, the beautiful wife of the descendant of an old family. CHAPTER IV. COLONEL DE TRACY's eccentric character was so notorious, that when news reached his Irish friends that he had married, it was believed, an English lady, and was living in comparative seclusion in Paris, it was "no more than everybody had expected," although some were sadly chagrined thereby. His nearest relatives were the son and daughter of a half brother. They had been reared and educated by the colonel, and notwithstanding his liberal provision for them at their marriages, which had occurred several years previous to his, it was currently reported that he would make the eldest son of one his heir. This unforeseen matrimonial adventure was a terrible blow to parental ambition and friendly prognostications. But his letters-succinct as dispatches were regular as ever; still, at stated, and not distant periods, came costly gifts to his grand nephews; so hope maintained a struggling existence. Two years elapsed, and without a word of preparation the colonel electrified Captain and Mrs. De Tracy, who resided within a few miles of his country-seat, by walking into their breakfast-room one clear, frosty morning. The lady's scream was certainly unfeigned, as was the gentleman's start; their expressions of overwhelming rapture may have been equally so; but a less shrewd judge of human nature than himself could have detected a dryness in the inquiries they would have had cordial, after the health of his wife. 'And when are we to see her, dear uncle ?" asked Mrs. De Tracy. "I am so impatient!" "She charged me with these for you," said he, drawing two cards from his pocket. "At home Thursday evening,'" said his niece; "but you will not forbid her relations from seeing her before that time? Almost a week?'' By my desire, she receives no company until then," he replied; "I wish her to recover entirely from the fatigue of travelling." He made a similar excuse to his niece and her busband, upon whom he likewise called that day; and it was with curiosity, whetted by delay, that they repaired to his house at the appointed time. His establishment befitted his wealth and taste; and it could have had no fairer mistress than the magnificently-attired woman who awaited her guests. Refined in every motion and look, with strength to conceal her own feelings, and tact to divine those of others, she was listening with an air of respectful attention to the colonel's last injunctions. "It is," said he, as I have told you, my intention to adopt one of the boys sooner or later. In the choice, I shall be guided by further observations, and in these I require the aid of your woman's eye and tact. I should decidedly prefer Edward's son, as bearing my name, were it not that certain early follies of his father have weakened this predilection. His sister Emily married a man of talent and good family, a cousin of Edward's wife. A proud race are those Lisles." "Lisles!" almost passed the lady's lips; and a perceptible tremor did not escape the speaker. "Do you know them?" be inquired. "From me, doubtless," said he. "I must have spoken of | ports to her convictions were abundant; but it was long before them frequently to you." He never had; and his further remarks were unheard. This Eleanor, then, whose dutiful letters to her " very dear uncle" she had perused, was her early, causeless foe, the destroyer of her husband! for thus was she branded in the firestamped book of her Past. She, to whom she owed her lifeless heart and frozen affections, her want of faith in human goodness, her utter isolation of spirit, would be in her presence in a few minutes; and she must meet her with honeyed phrase, must curb the impulse to dash her to the earth and crush her with reproaches and scorn! Eleanor was first upon the list of arrivals Leaning upon her husband's arm, she swam into the apartment, as haughty in ber bearing, if not so handsome as formerly. Mrs. De Tracy knew them instantly; and as the captain drew off his glove to present his hand, she thought of the dripping gate-latch and trampled coin. They did not recollect her. She had not feared this. Eight years had transformed the blushing girl into the self-possessed woman. Very ladylike and composed was her reception of their lavish courtesy ; the blood of the Lisles did not impart to their daughter an air of such thorough breed ing. Later in the evening another couple pressed through the fast-filling rooms. For a moment, people and walls were a rushing whirlpool, whose turbulence scarcely subsided ere My niece, Mrs. Hazlitt," and "Mr. Hazlitt," were named. 66 she could procure positive evidence against the wary gamester. What she was sure were losses, he explained as retrenchments, and talked prudently of foolish expenditures for plain country people," and of his wish to lay by a pretty fortune for each of his children." A pair of carriage-horses were sold, "Eleanor was afraid to ride after them;" the carriage followed, "he wanted a lighter vehicle." His absences from home were more frequent and prolonged, and Eleanor's perturbed demeanor would have touched a less vindictive heart than that of the woman she had so cruelly injured, and whose better nature had been soured by her husband's death. So passed spring, summer, autumn, and time ushered in another winter. "I have an invitation for you," said Eleanor, entering her uncle's study. "Wilton is to be married at last, and writes pressingly for us all to come to Lisle. He has had the villa enlarged, and can find accommodation for all. Here is his letter "Whom does he marry?" asked Mrs. De Tracy. "" "A Miss Somebody, I never heard of before,' was the reply; "but he is so odd, we did not hope for a brilliant match from him. Indeed, I wonder at his marrying at all. He is thirtysix. I quite long to have him see you; you will be mutually pleased with one another." "I hope so," she answered, carelessly. "You would like to go, then?" inquired the colonel. He liked to show his wife; and, moreover, had a sincere friendship for Wilton; so an acceptance was sent. Mrs. De Tracy manifested more interest in this visit than was consistent with her usual fashionable nonchalance. Her husband smiled at her occasional flutter of expectation or pleasure, in the pre While the dance and song and hilarious converse went onin that brain, prematurely matured, but ripened into Christian love and forgiveness, as her moral sense was blunted by injus-paration for, and during the journey. Obeying a characteristic tice and suffering, there was preparing a scheme of revenge. Beneath the placid mien and smiling face burned the spirit of a Medea; to herself she was a heaven-ordained Nemesis. Colonel De Tracy, if a singular, was yet a sensible man. He had asked duty, not affection, of his wife, and was too wise to disgust her by doting fondness. They were an exemplary couple; he attentive to her comfort and wishes, she deferentially consulting his. But at heart he loved her with a proud affection. He was gratified by the readiness with which she ruled and modelled herself to his standard of female character, and her rare loveliness was an irresistible appeal to his feelings. Reserved to others, he unbent much of his formality in their private interviews; testifying his confidence in her discretion by conferring with her upon his most important projects. She knew her power better than he did. Until now, it had been a subject of indifference, awakening neither gratitude nor ambition; it suddenly magnified into an engine of incomparable force. whim, he had avoided questioning her with regard to her early life. To him, her existence commenced with his acquaintance. Having ascertained that she had no near connections to interfere with his rights, he made her a De Tracy, and chose to forget that she had ever borne another name. At Wilton's invitation, a wild ungovernable desire to revisit her former home, and see their early friend, took possession of her, and mingled with it was a foreboding, triumphant yet agitating, of a coming crisis; a belief that another, and the most marvellous, was to be added to the startling coincidences of her eventful life. It was a chill rainy evening when they reached Lisle Villa, grown into a mansion of noble proportions. Wilton met them at the door, and hurried them into the house with an hospitable welcome. Upon the threshold was a girlish figure, with a f ce of changing smiles and blushes. Passing an arm around each, Wilton said, reassuringly, "Mary, this is your sister Eleanor." The smile faded and the color deepened upon the timid bride's Others saw it as well. Eleanor cultivated an intimacy as cheek as her lips touched the icy ones of her sister-in-law; but sedulously as she had shunned her once. Her advances were Alfred Hazlitt's joyous greeting and his wife's kiss restored the met by a passive politeness she did not know whether to at-bloom. Agnes and Mr. Schmidt were there also. They seemed tribute to indifference or indolent pride. The Hazlitts, how-to have given themselves up to the cultivation of the animal to ever, did not experience this. Emily was naturally amiable, the infinite detriment of their intellectual natures. His bushy and her good traits had been developed by her husband's judi- whiskers had a streak or two of gray, and her hair was growing cious influence. Mrs. De Tracy and himself were friends at scanty; but their excessive obesity made these trifling dissight, and her partiality extended to his family. figurements appear of no consequence, being in itself a sufficient disguise to those who had not seen them for nine years. Wilton acted the host well; but, as Eleanor had predicted, one of the company had his especial notice. Alfred and his charming partner engaged the modest Mary in conversation; the colonel challenged Mr. Schmidt to a game of chess; Edward lounged in a fauteuil, listening, apparently, to Eleanor's chat with her sister; and Wilton stationed himself by Mrs. De Tracy. The early follies of Captain De Tracy, to which the colonel had referred, were committed whilst he was still at college. Colonel De Tracy's hatred of gaming was inveterate-confirmed, if not formed by the circumstance that with his brother it had been an incurable passion, he having committed suicide in a rage of disappointment at his ill-fortune at Hesse-Homburg. The manner of his death was carefully concealed from his son, until his uncle discovered that the propensity was hereditary. Edward was then at Oxford. The colonel disclosed the whole sad story, paid his debts of honor, and swore solemnly to disgrace and beggar him if he repeated the offence. Mrs. De Tracy had gathered rumors of her step-nephew's embarrassments-unpardonable, in view of his wife's fortune and his uncle's liberality, and suspected foul play. There was a certain Mr. Robinson, a noted sporting character, staying on a visit at the captain's. His name-as Captain De Tracy's guest-was enough to awaken surmises prejudicial to his host's character. She waited patiently, watchfully for proof. Sup The past throbbed along her pulses at his remembered voice. He alone was unchanged. His most honored guest, his gentle courtesy, did not exceed that he had paid her as the mistress of her humble cottage. Her emotion, hidden as it was, touched a responsive chord. He became strangely interested in his fair visitor. "Excuse me," he said at length, gazing admiringly upon her classically moulded face; "but you certainly are not quite a stranger to me. We must have met before." "Probably," she replied, and her voice was not the least |