I hope it will be soon,' said Mrs. Wardlaw warmly.

'Whether I see you or not, Mr. Pearson, I shall not forget you, nor what I owe you,' added Nelly earnestly.

She could hardly say less, yet her manner was so grateful that she could hardly have expressed more. He said good-bye to each of them, and was gone.

'What a strange man!' exclaimed Mrs. Wardlaw.

'A very good and kind one, I am sure,' said Nelly.

'I have no doubt about it: but I wish he was a little more like

other people.'

'He has had troubles, I fear, which have broken him.'

But they can't have broken his wrist; or if they have, how is it that he can paint and yet not write; that is what seems to me so queer. By the by, did you see him paint?'

'Yes: at least, I saw his colour-box, because I was so clumsy as to tread upon it.'

'Well, it is very mysterious: and I wish John had been here.'

Mr. Wardlaw arrived in due time, according to promise, and, as it happened, Mr. Milburn with him.

'I was able,' the latter explained at dinner-time, to escape from the lawyers a day earlier than I had hoped.'

'How nice of you it was, dear Herbert,' said his sister gushingly, 'to come back again to me as soon as you could.'

'Dear Herbert' did not reply to this, and Miss Milburn, who detected a sly smile upon Mrs. Wardlaw's face, looked anything but pleased.

If Mr. Milburn's personal presence had been dispensed with, his attention was still a good deal occupied by business affairs. Not a day passed without deeds and documents passing and repassing through the post, in all of which his sister took a family pride, and talked sympathisingly about the trouble there always was in settling matters connected with large landed estates. This continued for a week or two, during which the intimacy of the two families increased by time rather than circumstance, and Miss Milburn kept watch and ward over her brother as though he had been an enchanted princess for whom marriage had been foretold to be fatal, and she herself were an incorruptible dragon.

It was Nelly's custom to take a walk before breakfast, when the sands, except in the immediate neighbourhood of the bathing machines, were as deserted as those of Sahara, and the roar or whisper of the waves was the only noise to be heard. She was returning one morning from her favourite bay, when she saw Mr. Milburn coming towards her. He was a late riser, and had ex

pressed in her presence his astonishment at her own heroic conduct in taking these matutinal walks: and at the sight of him she felt her face flush. She had as little vanity as it is possible for a pretty girl to have, but she knew why he was to meet her, and what he was about to say. She saw as they drew nearer one another that his face wore a more earnest look than usual, and yet that it had an expression of unrest about it: a combination she had noticed once before in the face of another man.

'You are very courageous, Mr. Milburn,' said she, smiling-for a woman has always a smile and a tear handy-thus to dare the morning air.'

'Yes, I am courageous,' he quietly said; 'perhaps even to audacity. Would you mind turning back with me, Miss Conway, just for a hundred yards or so?'

He little knew that he was leading her back to the very spot where Raymond Pennicuick had told to her-in vain-the same old story that he himself was about to tell again, or he would surely have avoided it as of evil omen.

They walked on for a few steps in silence, which becoming intolerable to Nelly, as well it might, she broke by a reference to his sister.

'Miss Milburn told us yesterday that all your business had at last been settled; so I suppose you feel quite a gentleman at large?'

It has not all been settled, dear Miss Conway; but it will be so before I get home again; and how it is to be done will depend on you.'

'On me?' said she gaily, but with a weight about her heart that sank it very low. I am afraid my advice on such matters will not be worth much.'

"Your decision on the point will nevertheless be final. This estate, that Catherine talks so much about, but which is no such great matter after all, has a "mansion " upon it (as the auctioneers call it), which is at present a millstone about my neck. I am to decide to-day whether I am to live in it or to let it. If the former, I shall sell out of the regiment and become, as you say, a gentleman at large; if the latter, I shall return at once to China.'

'Indeed!' said she with genuine interest. She felt that she should be seriously sorry if this bright, kind young fellow should leave England, when in all probability they would never meet again.

'Yes. If I stay in this country, and reside at my own place, it will certainly not be alone, nor with my sister: she is a good creature, but I feel that we could not live for ever under the same

roof. But if, my dear Miss Conway, you would consent to be its mistress, then I should be the happiest man, I do believe, in England. Take time, take time, I do beseech you' (for he read rejection in her eyes), 'for if you say "No," that will mean exile, probably for all my life. I was your father's friend-'

'Mr. Milburn, I entreat you to say no more,' interrupted the girl earnestly. 'I ask it for both our sakes; I appeal to a nature that I know is as unselfish as it is kind to spare yourself and me. I am deeply sensible of the honour you would confer upon me, and of which I am wholly unworthy; but I cannot accept it. I do not mean to marry. I have had troubles such as you cannot understand

"But I said "Take time, take time," broke in the young man eagerly. I know you have had cruel trials, from which, at present, you have not recovered. It was wrong of me to speak so soon, but my love must be my excuse.'

'You need no excuse, Mr. Milburn; though, indeed, that you have thought so seriously of one like me, surprises me. If I have given you cause to-to--' She blushed and hesitated, her mind

reverting to his sister and her innuendoes.

'No, you have given me no cause,' said he; it is Nature herself which has made you so adorable. I have said that I was audacious in my hopes, but tell me at least that I need not despair.'

6

Mr. Milburn, you have been very kind to me. I believe you are a good man, and I respect you with my whole heart; but, once for all, I cannot marry you.'

It is enough. I have no right to ask you another question, yet I must put it for my own sake; for if your answer is what I believe it will be, hope will still be left to me-as it is left, they say, even to the most wretched. I am, it seems, not personally distasteful to you. Is the cause of my rejection that you love another?"

Her lips moved, though without any articulate sound. Her face flushed from brow to chin. She cast down her eyes. Her answer was very plain to read. Milburn bit his lips-his face, unlike hers, was very pale-and bent his head. It was his submission to his fate. Let us go back to the hotel,' he said; 'you must not keep your friends waiting for breakfast. Do not cry, I beseech you. I am not worth a tear from your eyes.'

CHAPTER XLII.

MISS MILBURN EXPRESSES APPROVAL.

Ir was with profound distress that Nelly Conway had received and rejected the offer of Milburn's hand, for she had no doubt that his heart would have gone with it. It would have pained her to have so behaved to any honest young fellow, but, in truth, she had a great liking for this one, though it had no touch of love about it. It was plain to her that her departure from Sandybeach, on which she had so long determined, could be no longer delayed if Mr. Milburn should stay on there; and though, indeed, that was not probable, for he would be sure to feel the delicacy of her position, and hasten to relieve her of his presence, yet what right had she-who in any case had meant to go-to drive him to such a step? That very day, therefore, without stating her immediate reasons for her resolution, she informed her kind host and hostess of her intention to go to town at once, and begin the life of independence she had always determined upon. There was a terrible scene of tears and tender pleading, which would have carried conviction, had she needed it, of how dear she had become to both these excellent people.

'It'll go near to break my old woman's heart,' said Mr. Wardlaw, in a tone that showed his own was not quite bomb-proof. 'Oh, never mind me,' sobbed his wife; when I'm dead and gone she'll be sorry, and I dare say will come back to you, John, and make the tea, and put out the flowers, and play toons to you on the piano, just as she used to do.' The recollection of these tender services, which were no longer, it seemed, to be performed by her darling, utterly overcame the good lady.

'I am sorry that any poor thing we were able to do for you,' said Mr. Wardlaw simply, 'should have the sense of obligation about it. We didn't-neither of us-mean it to be so, Miss Nelly, I do assure you.'

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Oh, I am sure you didn't, and I never did feel it so,' sobbed the poor girl. It is your very goodness and kindness that make me want to go.'

Then we'll be very hard and grumpy, won't we, missus? We'll do our very best to be unkind to you, indeed, though just at first, perhaps, my old woman here will find it a little difficult.'

'Not more difficult than you would, Mr. Wardlaw. Of course I don't mean exactly what I said. I have been made so happy by your kindness, but it has placed me in a false position. I feel myself getting less and less fitted-because you spoil me so-to

make my own way in the world; and so I must needs set about it at once.'

Like all discussion in which the affections mingle, the arguments were various and discursive; but Nelly maintained her point: it was settled that she was to go to town, and, residing, if possible, at the old lodgings in Gower Street, to there pursue her studies. She wrote that day to the proprietor of the Fine Arts' establishment at Richmond, who had been her earliest patron, to inquire about some drawing-master whose charges should be within her slender means. As a supplement to his teaching, it was her purpose to attend the classes at South Kensington.

Having got over the first and worst difficulty-that of wrenching herself from her generous friends-Nelly felt somewhat more composed in mind; but the need of solitude after so much mental struggle was imperative. For the second time that day she took a walk alone. On this occasion she went inland, as being the less likely route on which to meet people, and especially Mr. Milburn; she chose a footpath through the fields that led to the high downland above the village, and on the down she walked for miles with untiring feet, in a clear wind that blew the sea-gulls about the skies, and the weariness and worry out of her brain. In youth nature will do this for us, though in old age the sunshine and the breeze fall but as rain upon a stony soil.

On her way down she saw a female figure coming up the path; by the daintiness with which she crossed the stiles and picked her way she knew it was Miss Milburn, and would gladly have avoided the rencontre. There was a little wood between them, through which were two paths, one direct and the other leading to a small farm, and so by a circuit to the same point of egress. Nelly took the longer route, calculating that this lady would take the other, but when she emerged there was her friend seated on the stile, and dinting the soft ground with the point of her parasol.

'My dear Miss Conway, I am so glad to have found you,' cried she, with enthusiasm. Indeed, I came out on purpose. I felt that I could never have sat down to dinner, or have met you in any cold or formal way, as usual, without expressing to you what I felt without telling you how admirably, how nobly, you have behaved!'

I am glad to hear I have earned your good opinion, Miss Milburn,' said Nelly coldly; but I am at a loss to know what I have done to deserve it.'

'Well, it is not what you have done, so much as what you have not done: not one girl in a thousand, in your position, would have resisted such a temptation. To see the incongruity of things, and

VOL. XXXV. NO. CXXXVII.

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