CHAPTER XXXI.

AN UNEXPECTED QUESTION, AND AN UNEXPECTED
ANSWER.

NOTHING took place next morning different from other mornings at Freelands.

Seldom does anything happen to point out the great days of our lives. They come upon us in our ordinary paths, as we go about our accustomed duties, and look upon our familiar faces; and there is no voice to whisper that we shall turn to that date through years and years of time, as the day of our joy, or our sorrow.

It was a somewhat gloomy morning. Helen had slept badly, and breakfasted in bed. The post had only brought a few uninteresting letters, which had been quickly disposed of, and voted scarcely worth answering. Her sisters must go out, go to the village, bring her some lozenges, and some larger needles, and get the magazines which had been forgotten by the postman.

They were willing to go; and left her, after luncheon, lying on her sofa wearily completing an unfinished piece of worsted work which Carry had declared was really too stupid for her to go on with.

The sisters had been gone nearly an hour, when the doorbell suddenly rang, with a sharp demand; and two minutes afterwards, in walked Mr Smith.

She was not one to be easily startled, but monotony and confinement tend to shake the nerves, and her reception of him was not all that she could have wished.

Her breathing would flutter, and her voice stammer.

She was happy to see him again; hoped some of the others were at home; recollected they were all out; asked where he had been, then blushed for her impropriety, and faltered out instead, a hope that he was well.

Her visitor answered as became him.

His tone was tender, too tender had he not known what lay before him, as he expressed his regret at finding her still an invalid; and he spoke again and again of the happiness of being once more at Eastworld.

His travels he dismissed with an air of impatience. He had felt obliged to go abroad, but it had been for no good, and had afforded him no pleasure.

Might he take his old chair?

It was close to her head, and she had not thought he would take it, but it did not signify. All the past was to be forgotten. He was altered, and the alteration had to do with her. A rough morning suit had replaced his usual almost too carefully good attire, and there was no flower in his button-hole. His gloves-even his face was dusty. His neckcloth was half pulled out.

This to her eye bore but one interpretation. He no longer cared for the effect he produced in this house. It was the finishing touch to the thrust he had given her. Henceforward they were to stand on a different footing.

She had so well understood it all beforehand, that there was no second disappointment.

She began to talk, quietly indeed, but with ease and fluency. She was glad to see that at least the old appearance of friendship was to be maintained. It would help greatly to effect that belief in people's minds which they were so anxious to establish, that there never was, and never could have been, anything between her and Mr Smith.

As her spirit returned, his failed.

Here was the opportunity which he had resolved at all risks to obtain, when he set out that afternoon, given him without difficulty, and given him at once.

Now was the time to do his part.

He had said he would do it, and, come what might, he would not fail in his resolution, but oh, how difficult it was!

Five minutes, ten, a quarter of an hour passed, and he was still dallying with her work-table, asking after this and that, puttting needless questions, and returning absent

answers.

The half-hour struck.

He felt that it must come. What should he say? What could he say? He had trusted to the moment, to something coming in his way which he might turn to account. But nothing had helped him, her own manner least of all.

The precious time was going.

Next moment, any

moment might bring interruption, her father, her sisters -and the chance would be gone.

With a sense of desperation he laid his hand upon the smooth, slim, white one, whose taper fingers looked so transparent against the dark sofa coverlet.

How thin, how soft they were! Suddenly it struck him that the rings were wanting, and for something to say he remarked so much aloud.

"They are grown too large; they fall off my poor skinny fingers," said she, smiling. And then she began to think that he ought not to hold her hand thus, and made as though she would draw it away.

But, to her amazement, it was held fast, and held between both of his.

He would say it if it choked him!

"If I were to give you one-not too large-to wearfor my sake-would you wear it-and here?" touching the third finger. "Hush! Oh, don't speak! I know, I know, that you would not."

He shrank down, bending his head to the blow-only, would God it had fallen, and were over!

Was she struck dumb at his presumption? Was she hanging back in pity? Or was she merely obeying his request for silence?

Tick, tick, went the clock, and a blast of rain spattered against the window. One long, long minute passed.

He

She would not speak, and he must leave it as it was. Was this to be his answer? So, he must yield up the dear possession that he held, and feel the sacrifice complete. He drew himself up to go. Yet one word more. thought it would be better, would really be better, and then all would be plain between them, and he need never trouble her more.

"Dear lady," he said, softly, "I know the pain it will give you to say it, but if it must be 'No,' the No' would be better said. I can bear the worst now. You need not fear that I-that you that I will ever molest you. Once with me means for altogether. Say then, is it 'No'?" Not a word said she. "Then take your hand from gently.

mine," and he unclasped it

The hand remained where it was. He began to tremble. "Helen, what does this mean? What are you doing? Are you deceiving yourself, or me?" His voice grew harsh and sharp. Say No, no, No, and seal my fate at once, but do not trifle with me, in the name of heaven!"

66

Her lips moved, but he could catch no sound. He turned, the tears were raining down her cheek.

66

'Child, can it be 'Yes'?"

"Yes."

His head fell down upon his hands, hers dropped from between them.

It might have been at that instant, or it might have been some minutes after, that voices, footsteps, bustle, was heard in the hall.

The walking party had returned. With an incoherent exclamation he rushed out among them, and passed by. They, flying to her for an explanation, found her crying.

CHAPTER XXXII.

66

THE MIRAGE.

OH, it's delightful, delightful!" exclaimed Lily, for the twentieth time that evening, as she seated herself at the tea-table, alone with her eldest sister.

"To think of its all Not that I ever

coming right at last, as I said it would. thought it! I felt as sure it was all over as I ever did of anything in my life. And it was all a mistake from beginning to end! We shall find out what it was, some day. Colonel Aytoun at the bottom of it, I dare swear. I should like to see your face now, Mr Colonel! You ought to have a special invitation to the wedding. Oh! and Helen, nothing could be better than the way he has done it, after all. His disappearing, turning up in this fashion, taking us all by surprise, I declare it is quite romantic! And Nelly," she rattled on, "don't you see how lucky it is that we have none of us even seen him, except you? That will speak for itself. No one will have a word to say; the

S

Hunts, even, cannot accuse you.

The dear, delightful man, I love him already; and 'All's well that ends well' shall be my motto to the end of my life!"

Helen made no attempt to check her rapture. It did not suit her, it jarred upon her, and she would fain have turned a deaf ear, if she could. But, not in this supreme moment of gratification, was she one to damp the sympathy of those around her.

She had borne the turn of Fortune well. She had so changed since that afternoon when, in the intoxication of anticipated triumph, she had revelled in the discomfiture of those who had tried to snatch from her the prize, that it was not till Lily recalled them to her memory, that she gave them so much as a thought.

Her heart glowed with happiness.

A new spring of life seemed within her. The world shone. She could not work, she could not eat, she could not talk. She could but lie quiet thinking over it all, with her eyes still hot, but sparkling softly; wondering at herself and at him.

"We heard of his arrival," Lily had narrated, "as soon as we got to the Hunts. They had seen him. Mrs Hunt had seen him pass the Bains' window; and after we left them his man came flying down to the village-I suppose to get some things. The other, the butler, or whatever he may be, took up the luggage, the Hunts said. They had evidently been watching like cats; for Mrs Hunt said that, from everything she could see, he had arrived unexpectedly. She was was too much excited even to make a decent appearance of hiding it. Well, directly she said that, my heart jumped, for I thought, 'He has come after Nelly!' So we forgot all about the magazines, and came home as fast as we could to tell you, when, whom should we encounter in the hall but the man himself? Fortunately I had got your needles though, but I daresay you will do no more work to-night!"

"Did he speak to you?" inquired her sister.

"Not a word. He ran by like a ghost, and I thought he had gone crazy, or else that we had. The apparition was rather startling, you must allow. Then it darted into my head that he had been with you, and I guessed the whole. Is he coming here to-morrow?"