with a bit yielding tone in it, as if the heart would break sooner than make a stand for its own way. I mind it real weel," said Lauderdale, with a sigh. "As for the father, no doubt there was little to be said in his favour. But, after a', it wasna him "that you had any intention to marry. And yon Sabbath-day after he was gone, poor man!-when you and me didna ken what to do with ourselves till the soft thing came out of her painted cha'amer, and took the guiding of us into her hands. It's that I was thinking of," said Lauderdale, fixing his eyes on a far off point upon the hills, and ending his musing with a sigh.

Colin sighed, too, for sympathy-he could not help it. The scene came

before him as his friend spoke. He thought he could see Alice, in her pallor and exhaustion, worn to a soft shadow, in her black dress, coming into the bare Italian room in the glorious summer day, which all the precautions possible could not shut out from the house of mourning with her prayer-book in her hand; and then he remembered how she had chidden him for reading another lesson than that appointed for the day. It was in the height of his own revolutionary impulses that this thought struck him; and he smiled to himself in the midst of his sigh, with a tender thought for Alice, and a passing wonder for himself, what change might have been wrought upon him if that dutiful little soul had actually become the companion of his life. Colin was not the kind of man who can propose to himself to form his wife's mind, and rule her thoughts, and influence her without being sensible of her influence in return. That was not the order of domestic affairs in Ramore; and naturally he judged the life that might have been, and even yet might be, by that standard. The Mistress's son did not understand having a nullity, or a shadow of himself, for a wife; and insensibly he made his way back from the attendrissement into which Lauderdale's musings had led him, into half-amused speculation as to the effect Alice and her influence might have had upon him by this time.

"If

that had happened," he said with a smile, bursting out, as was usual to him when Lauderdale was his companion, at that particular point of his thoughts which required expression, without troubling himself to explain how he came there "if that had happened," said Colin, with the conscious smile of old, "I wonder what sort of fellow I should have been by this time? I doubt if I should have had any idea of disturbing the constituted order of affairs. Things are always for the best, you perceive, as everybody says. A man who has any revolutionary work to do must be free and alone. But don't let us talk any more of that-I don't like turning back upon the road. But for that feeling I should have settled the business before now about poor Arthur's Voice from the Grave.””

"I was aye against that title," said Lauderdale, "if he would have paid any attention; but you're a' the same, you young callants; it's nae more a voice from the grave than mine is. It's a voice from an awfu' real life, that had nae intention to lose a minute that was permitted. It would be something, to be sure that he was kept informed, and had a pleasure in his book; but then, so far as I can judge, he maun ken an awfu' deal better by this time-and maybe up there they're no heeding about a third edition. It's hard to say; he was so terrible like himself up to the last moment; I canna imagine, in my own mind, that he's no like himself still. There should be a heap of siller,” said Lauderdale, "by this time; and sooner or later you'll have to open communica tion, and let them ken."

"Yes," said Colin, with a momentary look of sullenness and repugnance; and then he added, in a lighter tone, "heaps of money never came out of a religious publisher's hands. A third edition does not mean the same thing with them as with other people. Of course, it must be set right some time or other. We had better set off, I can tell you, and not talk idle talk like this, if we mean to get to our journey's end to-night."

"Oh, ay," said Lauderdale, "you're aye in a hurry, you young callants. As

for me, I've aye what I was about. Is it the father that makes you so unwilling for any correspondence?—but it's awfu' easy to settle a thing like that."

found time to finish

"I think you want to try how far my patience can go," said Colin, who had grown crimson up to the hair. "Do you think a man has no feeling, Lauderdale? Do you think it is possible to be treated as I have been, and yet go back again with humility, hat in hand? I don't feel myself capable of that."

"If you're asking me my opinion," said Lauderdale, calmly, "I've nae objection to tell you what I think. You're no vindictive, and you've nae pride to speak of-I'm meaning pride of that kind. It's no in you to bear a grudge at onybody beyond, maybe, the hour or the day. So I'm no heeding much about that question, for my part. If you had an awfu' regard for the man, he might affront you; but no being indifferent. I'm telling you just my opinion, with my partial knowledge of the premises-but for her, I cannot but say what is in my ain mind. I've a kind of longing to see her again; we used to be awfu' good friends, her and me. I had you to take care of, callant, and she had him; and whiles she had a moment of envy, and grudged terrible in her heart to see the air and the sun, that are for baith the good and the evil, so hard upon him, and so sweet to you; there was little in her mind to hide, and her and me were good friends. I'll never forget our counts and our reckonings. It's awfu' hard for the like o' me to divine wherefore it is that a' that has come to an end, and her and you dropped out of one another's life."

"Lauderdale," said Colin, with a little choking in his voice, "I will tell you what I never told you beforeand then the young man stopped short, as if he had received a blow. What was it that came over him like an imperious sudden prohibition, stopping the words upon his lips the first time he had ever dreamt of uttering them to mortal ear? He had a feeling somehow as if one of those flying shadows that

kept coming and going over the mountains had taken another shape and come before him, and put a cold hand on his lips. He was about to have confessed that his love had been no more than tender compassion and kindness; he was about to have said what Lauderdale perhaps might have guessed before, what Colin had kept secret and hidden in his breast-that Alice never was nor could be the ideal woman of his thoughts, the true love who waited for him somewhere in the future. But perhaps, after all, it was no shadow nor unseen influence, but only the young man's magnanimous heart that spared that humiliation to the name of Alice-solely to her name; for, now that all was over between them, it was only that abstract representation of her that was concerned.

falling into absurd little dozes, and waking up suddenly with the idea that Alice was standing by him, that she was calling him, that it was the marriageday, and that somebody had found him. out, and was about to tell his bride that he did not love her ; and at last, when he went to sleep in good earnest, the fantastic mélange of recollection and imagination carried him back to Frascati, where he found Arthur and Alice, as of old, in the great salone, with its frescoed walls, and talked to them as in the former days. He thought Meredith told him of an important journey upon which he was setting out, and made arrangements in the meantime for his sister with an anxiety which the real Arthur had never dreamt of exhibiting. "She will be safe with you at present," the visionary Arthur seemed to say, "and by-and-by you will send her to meAnd when Colin woke it was hard for him to convince himself at first that he had not been in actual communication with his friend. He accounted for it, of course, as it is very easy to account for dreams, and convinced himself, and yet left behind in some crevice of his heart a dumb consciousness, which hid itself out of sight that it might not be argued with, that after all Arthur and he in the dark had passed by each other, and exchanged a word or thought in passing. Colin took care not to betray even to himself the existence of this conviction; but deep down in the silence it influenced him unawares. As for Lauderdale, his thoughts, as might have been expected, had taken another direction. Perhaps he was past the age of dreaming. Colin's revelation which he did not make had possibly told his friend more than if it had been said out in words; and all the thoughts of the elder man had fixed upon the strange problem which has been discussed so often with so little result-how there are some people who can have love for the asking, and reject it, and how there are some who would die for that dear consolation, to whom it does not come. To be sure, he was not philosophical on this subject, and the chances are that he attributed to Alice feelings much deeper

and more serious than any that had actually moved her. The chances were, indeed, for all that Lauderdale knew, that she had accepted her position, as Colin thought, dutifully, and obeyed her father, and ceased to think anything about the romantic projects and strange companionship of their Italian life. But the friend was more faithful than the lover, and had a more elevated idea of Alice and her capabilities; and he took to talking in his vague way, hovering round the subject in wide circles, now and then swooping down for a moment on some point that approached, as closely as he thought it right to approach, to the real centre of his thoughts.

"Thae great hills are awfu' in the way," said Lauderdale. "I'm no saying but they're an ornament to a country, and grand things for you, and the like of you, that make verses; but I canna see any reason why they should come between me and the sun. I'm no so high, but I'm maybe mair important in the economy of creation. Yet, for a' that, there's yon bald fellow yonder, with a' those patches on his crown, puts himself right between us and the light without even asking pardon. It's no respectful to you in your position, Colin. They're awfu' like men. I've seen a man standing like that across another man's life or whiles another woman's," said the philosopher. "It's not an encouraging spectacle. I'm no heeding about Nature, that kens no better; but for a man—

"Perhaps the man, too, might know no better," said Colin, laughing; but his laugh was slightly uneasy, for he, too, had been thinking, and it seemed to him that the subject was an unfortunate one to start with. "I don't see that he is much more responsible than the mountain. It may be in pursuing his own path, simply enough, that he shadows another man's forthe momentor another woman's, as you say, Lauderdale," he said, breaking off and laughing again. Somehow a little rabsurd colour had come to his face, he could not tell why.

"Ay," said Lauderdale, "and you're thinking that above a', that's real danger

ous for a minister. When he's popular like you he has so many paths to cross--and young-and a kind of genius in his way-and no to call bad-looking neither," said the critic, turning upon Colin a somewhat savage look; "and then the women part of them, they're often awfu' haverils, and a young minister canna be uncivil. It's nae fault of the hill, but it's awfu' silly of me to let myself be kept in the shade."

"Hit fair," said Colin, laughing; "none of your blows in the dark. I am an innocent man; besides, there are no interesting pathways in my way to cross, the young man added, with natural pathos; for, indeed, since the days of Matty Frankland and Alice, his opportunities on the whole in that particular had been small.

"It's grand when he does not lose his road himself," said Lauderdale. "That's an awfu' advantage on the part of the hills. They've nae responsibility, no being voluntary agents; but I've seen a man lose his ain way that had been a shadow on another man's road-or woman's, as you were saying. We're done with that now," said the philosopher; "the shadows are no so lingering in the morning-but I am real glad to be clear of it myself. You see, after a', we're no in Italy, though we're coming south. I dinna understand a country that makes you hide in the midday, and lose

your time in a' the corners. Here a man can walk in the sun."

"Even in another man's sun,' said Colin, "or woman's, according to what you have just been saying. But we will have enough of it to-day, before we get to our journey's end."

"there's

"Ay," said Lauderdale; something awfu' unreasonable in this life, take it at the best. As for logic, I never was great on that point. The grand thing of a man is, that you never can tell what he'll do the next moment.

I'm no denying the force of character. It's the only thing in this world that gives a kind of direction; but I wouldna even put my trust in character. I ken you very well, for example," he continued; "wonderful well, considering you're a human creature like myself. I

have a kind of idea what you would be likely to think on most subjects, and could very near run the risk of prophesying what you would say; but, when you turn that corner out of my sight, I ken no more what may be the next thing you'll do than if I had never heard your name. No, I'm no tired at this hour of the morning-but I've an awfu' objection to dust, and the road is as powdery as a mill. My intention is to take a seat on this brac and let that carriage pass."

"Wait a little, then; it comes on very slowly; there must be some invalid in it, for the horses look good enough," said Colin, and he turned his back to the carriage which was approaching, in order to survey the green slope, covered with trees and brushwood, upon which Lauderdale meant to rest. They were separated a little when the carriage came up, and neither of them paid much attention to it. Lauderdale was already half way up the slope, and Colin was standing by the side of the road, looking after him. The horses had quickened their pace at the last moment, and had passed before Colin could turn round to see who the travellers were; but at that moment, as the carriage rolled along behind him, he gave a start so violent that the stones under his feet seemed suddenly to get in his way and trip him up, and Lauderdale for his part came down from the brae with a long leap and strange exclamation. "What was that?" they said to each other, in the same breath, and paused for a moment, and looked into each other's faces, and listened. The carriage went on faster, raising a cloud of dust, and nothing was to be heard except the sound of the horses' hoofs and the wheels. It was Colin that was the first to break the silence. He detached himself from among the stones and bushes, where he had got entangled in that moment of agitation, and sprang back again to the high road which lay before him, veiled in a cloud of dust. "It is simply absurd," said Colin. "Lauderdale, I cannot imagine what you mean; you are enough to drive a man mad. Some one gives a chance outcry in passing, and you make up your mind that it is-- Good heavens! I never

knew such folly !" cried the young man. He took off his hat without knowing it, and thrust his hair up over his forehead, and made an effort to take courage and regain his composure as he took breath. But it was very clear that Lauderdale had nothing to do with Colin's excitement. He had himself heard the cry, and felt in his heart that it was no imagination. As he stood there in his pretended indignation the impulse of flight came upon him-a certain terror, which he could not explain nor comprehend, came over him.

There was not a man in existence before whom he would have flown; but that little cry of recognition took away all his courage. He did not feel in himself the strength to go forward, to venture upon a possible meeting. The blood which had rushed to his face for the first moment seemed to go back upon his heart and stifle it. He had made a step or two forward without thinking; but then he arrested himself, and wavered, and looked upon the road which lay quite tranquil behind him in the shadow of the hills. It seemed to him for the moment as if his only safety was in flight.

As for Lauderdale, it took him all the time which Colin had occupied in these thoughts to get down from his elevation and return to his friend's side. He for his part was animated and eager. "This is no her country," said Lauderdale; "she's a traveller, as we are. The carriage will stop at our next stage, but there's no time to be lost;" and as he said these words he resumed his march with his long steady step without remarking the hesitation of Colin or what he had said. The young man himself felt that saving impulse fail him after the first minute. Afterwards, all the secondary motives came into his mind, and urged him to go on. Had he allowed that he was afraid to meet or to renew his relationships with Alice Meredith, supposing that by any extraordinary chance this should be she, it would be to betray the secret which he had guarded so long, and to betray himself; and he knew no reason that he could give for such a cowardly retreat. He could not say, "If I see her again, and find that she has been

thinking of me, I shall be compelled to carry out my original mistake, and give up my brighter hopes,"-for no one knew that he had made any mistake, or that she was not to his eyes the type of all that was dearest in woman. "The chances are that it is all a piece of folly -a deception of the senses," he said to himself instead-"something like what people have when they think they see ghosts. We have talked of her, and I have dreamed of her, and now, to be sure, necessity requires that I should hear her. It should have been seeing, to make all perfect;" and, after that little piece of self-contempt, he went on again with Lauderdale without making any objection. The dust which had been raised by the carriage came towards them like a moving pillar; but the carriage itself went rapidly on and turned the corner and went out of sight. And then Colin did his best to comfort and strengthen himself by other means.

"Don't put yourself out of breath,” . he said to Lauderdale; "the whole thing is quite explainable. That absurd imagination of yours yesterday has got into both our heads. I don't mind saying I dreamt of it all last night. Anything so wild was never put into a novel. It's an optical illusion, or, rather I should say, it's an ocular illusion, Things don't happen in real life in this kind of promiscuous way. Don't walk so quick and put yourself out of breath." "Did you no hear?" said Lauderdale. "If you hadna heard I could understand. As for me, I canna say but what I saw as well. I'm no minding at this moment about my breath."

"What did you see?" cried Colin, with a sudden thrill at his heart.

"I'll no say it was her," said Lauderdale ; 66 no but what I am as sure as I am of life that she was there. I saw something white laid back in the carriage, somebody that was ill; it might be her or it might be another. I've an awfr' strong opinion that it was her. It's been borne in on my mind that she was ill and wearying. We mightna ken her, but she kent you and me."

"What you say makes it more and more unlikely," said Colin. "I confess