other lay close at hand, decked in tinsel gewgaws. One on her right hand, one on her left. Heaven help her wandering, wavering feet!

God be with thee, poor Helen! This is thy offer of mercy; this is thy day of grace. Thy great, wonderful, inestimable opportunity; thy life.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

THE CONCLUSION OF THE MATTER.

LORD SAUFFRENDEN TO CAPTAIN WELLWOOD.

"DEAR PHIL,-I don't know how in the world I have been so long in writing to you. I have sat down dozens of times, but always got up again. Very glad to get yours, all the same. What sport you must have had! I would have given anything for a day after those jungle fellows. Rather a different sort of thing from potting pheasants, I should think! We have just begun that old story here, but they are not so good as usual. The new fellow was not as clever with the young ones as old Hislop. As you see the papers, you won't care for any public news. If a dissolution does come, it might be rather awkward, but I think we could weather it. By the way, that reminds me that Fred Percy (who has just got into the Foreign Office) told me to be sure to tell you to see his brother, if you were anywhere near Peshore-I know that's not the way to spell it, but there's nobody to tell me what is.

He has had the fever, but is all right again, and would be awfully glad to see you. So go if you can, and send him a line about it, like a good fellow. It was queer your coming across Aytoun. I suppose, since his wife's death, he is quite the gay young bachelor again. I don't wonder at Lord M.'s giving him the cold shoulder-do you? All here much as usual. Poor Smith's house sold at last, and the new people, a varnish-maker and his family, come down this week. The first thing they did was to stick on spires and horns and all sorts of excres

1

cences, and transmogrify the whole building. The Dowager gave us a day or two last week, blooming as ever, and we had Best to meet her, but they didn't make it out! Rosy's wedding fixed for next month. We are going to town about her present to-morrow, and wish you were here to give us the benefit of your taste. Wife's love she's all right again now, thanks, and says you are not to go and get gray.-I am, dear Phil, yours affectionately, SAUFFRENDEN.

"P.S.-When are you coming home?

"P.S.-Who do you think are coming to stay with us, but the Ts!"

This was the letter which the English mail brought Philip Wellwood; and which he received lying on his bed under the waving punkah, gazing on the far, far distant peaks of the Himalayas, weary of the eternal sunshine, feeling sick and cross, and ill at ease with all around him.

The letter was not to his mind. He did wish Sauffrenden could write a decent letter. What pleasure could a letter like that afford anybody? There were such lots of things he might have said instead of spending his time over that rubbish of Smith's house, and the T's.

The T's at Sauffrenden certainly was a revolution, but even a revolution is sometimes hardly worth a postscript. Nevertheless, he sent a postscript back. "Pray remember me to the ladies at Freelands."

"The Tolletons"

By-and-by Sauffrenden wrote again. -no longer the T's-"have been with us at Brighton. Helen made a sensation there, I can tell you."

"I daresay she did," thought Philip. "If that fool Balmaine had seen her, he might have talked of a pretty girl. But, good heavens! Louise O'Flinn! They would rave about a she-ape out here."

It was soon after this that Philip discovered he was tired of the Himalayas.

Spring was come again; and he thought of the cool rustle of the leaves in an English valley; of the shining winding river; the busy little town; his old friends and his old ways; and felt himself home-sick.

His little place was sold, but he would go to Sauffrenden if they would have him.

Accordingly one still June evening he drove along the familiar road.

New things met his eye at every turn.

There was a new gate, and a new approach; and newest of all there was a little white bundle being carried in state up and down the flowery terrace, for whose appearance he had indeed been prepared, but which nevertheless gave him a shock.

And he was just as strange to them.

Trivial alterations to which they had long grown accustomed caught his eye.

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He wanted to know where this had gone, and when that had come? At every turn it was Oh, was that not before you left?" and "You must recollect this, it has been here so long."

He remembered forgotten stories. He quoted old sayings. He revived the things that had passed away.

Sauffrenden felt that, come what might, he never could let his Philip go again.

"It's delightful to have you back again, old boy, give us your fist," said he, times without number. "And now," he added, as the hour of luxury came, when the two strolled out into the twilight, and floating on the fragrant clouds confidences passed; 66 now, you must not go away again, never no more, as the books say. Bengal may be all very fine, but you have done it thoroughly, and will never need to blow off your steam again. Take example by me, settle down among us, and have a wife and boy of your own.'

"Hear him!” cried Philip. "As if wives and boys to order grew on every tree! By the by, that boy of yours, as you call him, little white bundle of night-shirt as I call him, he is an innovation. I don't approve of innovations. I meant to find you all exactly as I left you, and he upsets the whole order of things."

"But is he not a delightful little wretch? Nurse declares he knew me to-day, and I really think he did. He has got our carroty locks, too. And you wouldn't have the old place go away from us? I can tell you I didn't like the idea of that at all, neither did Milly. How do you think she is looking?"

"That's what every one says," delighted.

"The fact is, you know," confidentially, "she has never been well before. She's all right now. And we're going

to have a run in the Percys' yacht by-and-by. Take the He is three months old now,

little un with us.

thinks the sea-air would be grand for him. know. What if he should be sick?"

Philip's great "haw, haw," sounded up to frenden's bedroom.

and nurse

But I don't

Lady Sauf

One would

"You'll make a rare good father, old fellow. think you had been in the nursery all your life. Do you consult this oracle every day?"

"You would, too, if you had one of
your own."
"Which I have no prospect of having."

"No? None? Really and truly? Then we'll begin and look you out a mate at once. If we don't, you'll be slipping off again. Let me see. There's Helen, my paragon Helen, and Freelands is hers now; you would be close by. But perhaps she wouldn't suit you; and besides, I am pledged to Fred."

By the way," said Philip, "I have never asked after the Tolletons."

"Ah! you might have asked after them slap out before Milly, now. The most wonderful change in that quarter. She and Helen can't see enough of each other."

"No! Wonders never cease."

"I told you they came here, didn't I?"

66

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Yes, but that was all."

Oh, but it isn't all, by any means. It began by little and little, but lately it has grown like Alice in Wonderland."

"And what made the difference?"

"She's different, that's the thing. I can't tell you how, but every one knows. She's not like the same creature; she's become, you know"-lowering his voice-" so very religious."

"Religious!"

And Milly swears by her.
It's no sham-it's a
And, by Jove! she's
penniless heart is set

“And all that sort of thing. Whatever Helen tells her, she'll do. fact. Wait till you see for yourself. handsomer than ever. Fred's poor upon her, but they'll have to wait."

"They are engaged, then?"

"Nothing of the sort, nor can be. He can barely keep himself; but we are trying to get a good thing for him, and if we manage it, he will be at her feet to

morrow.

"And will she have him?"

"I don't know; I suppose so. He's a capital fellow. We'll take them in the yacht, and you too, if you'll come. The only pity is they couldn't live here, and Freelands is a nice place. However, it would be just the thing for you, now that you have a few thousands more, and we'll look you out a wife in no time."

"No hurry; the other affair isn't settled yet."

"Well, we shall hear in a week, and I don't think B. would refuse me."

"But that is only the preliminary. How do you know she cares for him?"

"I tell you I don't know; I only suppose so. She never was the girl to show her likings or dislikings unless she chose, and now she wouldn't flirt with a parson."

"Oh!

A pause.

"How are the others?"

"Carry's married, you know. She goes along with Helen in everything, and the consequence is that she bagged the very first curate who came in Rodney's place. Rodney has got a living, not much of one, but still an advance-somewhere in Devonshire. I don't think Lily half likes the new state of things. She takes herself off whenever she can. She was always the worst of the three."

"That she was!" said Philip, with a vivid recollection of Lily's eye upon him, in olden times. "Is she here

now?"

"I don't know. No, of course she is not; for Helen is to come up here to-morrow, because she's alone. We asked Fred to meet her, but he could not get away. She will be with us a week, at least. Ah, what a pity it is, it isn't you!"

But need we tell the reader that it was him? That before the week was over, Fred's chance, if he had ever had one, was blown to the winds? That Lord and Lady Sauffrenden, cruel people, threw over their poor cousin