of beautiful sculpture or painted canvas; "perfect as a Venus! What hands and arms! what grace in the turn of her neck! all other women seem Scarecrows by her side. And with a wedding-ring I purchase all this rare excellence. By Jove! it's not a bad investment when the whole thing is viewed in its proper light. I begin to respect matrimony as a wise institution; for by no other means can a man make sure of these charming creatures. Of course wedlock's tie is next to nothing with us; but women are taught to reverence the bond: yes, yes; with them the affair is totally reversed."

It was a stormy night; the thunder was loud, and the heavy hail came dashing against the window-panes. Emma shuddered with a superstitious terror as she listened to the tempest, and drawing aside the window-curtains, peered out into the night. A vivid flash of lightning, followed by a tremendous crash of thunder, and a fresh descent of hail drove her from the casement in alarm.

"Is this storm ominous of my child's future?" she exclaimed mentally. "Oh Heaven! avert from her all harm!” "What am I about to do?" pondered 'Rina, wringing her hands despairingly; "I am surely dreaming; I have been dreaming all along-I am not really about to become his wife-no, no! it is too terrible to contemplate." She gazed wildly around for a few seconds: "I have awaked too late-too late."

"Too late! too late!" strange voices whispered in her ear; and the howling storm without seemed to shriek upbraidings and threatening words. The crashes of thunder sounded to her like the wrathful voice of an accusing spirit, which, as she hearkened, filled her heart and brain with the tumult of despair. A well-known form stood before her, mocking and taunting her vacillation. She tried to shut out the spectre which her distempered fancy had conjured up to reproach and torture her; but powerless were all her endeavours. Great Heaven! was her future existence to be embittered thus? Could she never forget him? Would he always rise accusingly before her? There was now guilt in even thinking of him; and, did she continue to cherish his memory, misery-madness might ensue. Fain would she have flown out into the warring elements, and sought a

shelter with the beggar, whose lot, all wretched as it was, appeared at this moment preferable to her own.

Julius sat apart from all, planning projects for his further advancement. The duke had undertaken to allow him six hundred a year-what could he do with that sum? what style would it enable him to live?

In

Oh, Julius-calculating Julius! never once dost thou reflect on her, thy child; never once dost thou dream at what a sad price she has purchased thy independence.

"How thoughtful and gloomy everybody looks to-night," said Geoffrey Hollingsworth, drawing his chair close to the silent Clo'. "You also are sorrowful."

"Is it not a time for sad thoughts?" asked she mournfully. "I am about to lose my sister; henceforth we two, who have never been parted for a day, shall be sundered entirely."

He bent his head, and whispered a few words into her ear. She started and coloured deeply. He, gathering courage, rose and drew her into the adjoining room, where, for some time, they talked unrestrainedly and earnestly.

"Did Sir John know of all this?" she timidly inquired, after her surprise at the sudden disclosure he had made had in some degree abated.

It was with his uncle's entire approval that Geoffrey now revealed his affection.

Clotilda artlessly placed her hand in his he had already won her heart. In the upturned glance of her modest eyes he read her soul's confession; and his bosom overflowed with inexpressible rapture.

"Would she tell her mother, or should he?"

"Sir John would be the fittest person to communicate the tidings to her mother," Clo' replied, and Goeffrey drew his uncle aside.

Joyfully Sir John undertook to do this; and he performed the task with tact, delicacy, and feeling.

Emma was amazed: she had not anticipated this fortunate event this most desirable alliance.

"Dear Clo'," she murmured, her eyes filling with tears, "I did not forsee so bright a lot for thee."

Nay, no tears, mamma," said Clotilda.

No, no; no tears!" cried Sir John. "By Jupiter! I never was so happy in my life-I'm a boy again! Zounds!

I've nerves of iron now; and I could dance and sing with the best of you! Geoffrey, you've rendered me the happiest man alive. Clo', you little fairy, make him a good wife; you've had a capital example before you all your days; keep it in your mind, my pet. Aha! I'm almost wild with delight!"

"How wonderfully things have come about," observed Emma. "I can scarcely believe my senses. Nay, do not heed my tears, they are tears of joy."

"What say you, Julius!" exclaimed Sir John, turning to Emma's husband-"what say you to a wedding between pretty Clo' and my good nephew, Geoffrey Hollingsworth? Ay, stare away, all of you! it's a match, isn't it, Julius?"

He was of course in an ecstacy-transported almost beyond himself. Another grand match! Dame Fortune was indeed in a smiling mood. With two daughters high in station he would be able to achieve all his ambitious longings. Yes, some day her Majesty might ask him to dine with her; he should not be in the least surprised at an immediate invitation to her royal board. A duke's father-in-law might go anywhere and everywhere; in fact, people would be only too proud to invite and entertain a duke's father-in-law.

The following morning 'Rina rose calmer: the great struggle with her heart appeared to have left her resigned. to that fate which many a haughty dame coveted.

The marriage was strictly private, none being present at the ceremony save Sir John Craggsbridge, his nephew, Mr. Geoffrey Hollingsworth, and the bride's father, mother, and sister. The duke had his reasons for this privacy: his dislike towards Julius each day grew stronger, and he was determined to avoid, as much as possible, bringing him in contact with any of his own immediate friends or acquaintance. When he was married he would withdraw himself altogether from the plebeian connection. To be sure, there was nothing objectionable in the mother; she conversed and behaved in a proper and a lady-like manner. Clotilda, too, was charming; and, when she became Mrs. Hollingsworth, there would be nothing to urge against her position.

CHAPTER XXX.

A MONTH had passed at Eaglemount, and 'Rina was weary of its loneliness, and doubly weary of her companion, who neither cared for music nor books. He was an ardent admirer of painting and sculpture; and, as he had the means of indulging that taste to the utmost, he had not sought to cultivate any other. He had endeavoured to teach 'Rina the history and particular merits of every picture in Eaglemount Castle, until the painted canvas grew hateful to her sight; and the grand castle seemed like a huge prison filled with spectral forms. If she sang, it was when alone, to please herself: her lord had no ear for the music made by her sweet voice.

"What letters have you?" asked the duke, one morning at breakfast.

"Clotilda's marriage is to take place in a fortnight," replied 'Rina, closing a note.

"What more? I perceive that you have three letters." "True. I-I have three," stammered she.

"Who are your correspondents ?”

"Papa and mamma.”

"Humph!"

"I should rejoice to see them," she hesitatingly observed. "Here at Eaglemount?" asked his grace.

"It would be great happiness to me."

"We shall return to London to-morrow," said he abruptly. "Indeed! I am so glad; then I shall be able to see them every day."

Certainly not," said the duke coldly; we shall be either inundated with visitors or out visiting."

"I can surely spare an hour each day for my parents?" pleaded 'Rina.

"You will not understand me! I do not wish you to hold any communication with them beyond

66

"Heavens!" interrupted 'Rina, starting from her chair; am I to give up my dear mother and

"We'll talk the matter over when we arrive in town,"

responded he briefly, as if desirous to change the topic; "oblige me," he continued, handing a letter to 'Rina,"oblige me by making out this scrawl, I cannot decipher a single syllable of it."

"This," said she,-"this is Mrs. Godfrey's hand; I should recognize it amid a thousand-how strange she should address you!"

"Mrs. Godfrey ! Mrs. Godfrey !" repeated the duke; "I have not the pleasure of her acquaintance."

"Am I to read?" asked 'Rina uneasily.

"Very well," rejoined she, commencing :

"Your grace, some time back, purchased a picture from an artist in Manchester, and gave him, as part payment for the said picture, the sum of two hundred pounds, which amount I beg to return, it being improbable that the work can ever be finished. As the artist's ill health at present prevents him from transacting any business affairs, and as your grace is aware that the painting was sold with the understanding that it was to be exhibited for a term, I have taken upon myself to act thus. Should Mr. Grahame recover from his dangerous illness

'Rina could go no further, she dropped the letter and burst into tears.

"What's the matter?" asked the duke, sternly regarding her. "Have you finished the letter?"

'No, no!" gasped she; "I cannot read any more of it.' "What prevents you?" he demanded authoritatively. 'Rina averted her face, and wildly rocked her body to and fro.

"You will please to answer my question, and at the same time explain your extraordinary conduct," said the duke in a harsh voice.

"I cannot," she replied.

His grace rose, took up Mrs. Godfrey's note, and silently left the apartment. 'Rina sat confused and terrified. Paul was ill; perhaps dying. Suddenly she started up, and seizing the pen and ink, wrote a hasty and disconnected letter to Mrs. Godfrey, imploring her to let her know everything concerning the condition of Paul Grahame.

This missive she instantly despatched by a groom to the