never acted, for that talent seemed dead within him; none had knowledge of what his former life had been, or even whence he came; but everybody connected with him remarked that he knew his business well, and that he was able to instruct others. The only creature towards whom Ridly appeared to unbend and soften his manners was Alice Thorn; she alone possessed power over him; and to her he conceded unlimited favours. Alice did not misuse her influence, but on the contrary, effected much good by it; for hers was a kind, unselfish heart, brimfull of generosity and womanly affection.

It must not be supposed that Mrs. Thorn did not comprehend the meaning of these numberless attentions on the part of the manager-his attachment was too plainly and warmly demonstrated to be unheeded by her,—but there was a certain mystery about him that baffled all the widow's wit to penetrate, and which prevented her from encouraging his advances.

"Good morning, Mrs. Thorn! said Mr. Ridly, as he entered Alice's little sitting-room and grasped her extended hand; "I have, I fear, attended your summons somewhat too quickly, for I perceive you have not finished breakfasting.” "Nay, I have not yet commenced," returned she; "will you join me?

"Are you quite well? I was afraid you were suddenly indisposed."

"Thank Heaven, and a good constitution, I am not subject to sudden attacks of indisposition," returned Alice. "No, Mr. Ridly," she continued, "I sent for you that I might be the first to break the sad intelligence of

"Your marriage?" interrupted he.

"Hush, Mr. Ridly! the subject of which I am about to speak is not one to be jested upon."

66 Are you about to quit us?" gasped he. "I am aware your talents are worthy of a wider field of action, of a purer atmosphere, in which your abilities would be properly valued and appreciated."

"Again you are wrong," said Alice, mildly. "I have no desire to change my position in any way."

Mr. Ridly's face looked sterner than ever as the last sentence fell on his ear.

“ Listen," continued she in an unsteady voice ; "oh, it is terrible to think about, poor Chip and his wife!" she added, laying her hand on Mr. Ridly's arm.

What, the wife is dead, I suppose !" said he, somewhat moved. "Well, well, she was a good creature, I believe ; and spite of her extremely pretty face, and his infernally ugly one, she never gave him cause for a moment's jealousy." "Mr. Ridly, they are both dead!" and Alice burst into

tears.

"Both! God preserve us all! How, how did it happen? "The house in which they lodged caught fire; and poor Chip and his wife perished in the flames!"

"And the little girl?"

"Escaped," said Alice.

There was a long pause. Mr. Ridly sat dreamily tracing the carpet pattern with his stick; all the while his cheeks were growing paler and his lips were twitching convulsively. Alice had buried her face in her handkerchief, and was sobbing most bitterly.

"Hush, Alice-Mrs. Thorn," said Mr. Ridly confusedly, correcting his unintentional familiarity,-"hush! there are worse misfortunes than death, misfortunes which are wept over during all one's weary life. I have no tears for the happy dead."

"But their deaths were so horrible," observed Alice.

"The poor child is more to be pitied than they, whose sorrows are at an end."

Alice lifted up her eyes and contemplated the countenance of the speaker, which wore, contrary to her expectation, its usual expression.

"You have it in your power to do me a great favour,” said she.

"Speak!"

"Remove Emma from this place for a time," said Alice, earnestly; "the child may lose her reason else—she is so sensitive, she loved her parents so devotedly."

"What do you propose?"

"That you send us to join the company at Clitherington."

"Us!" exclaimed Ridly in a disconcerted tone; then wish to leave us?"

you

"For a time, for Emma's sake; till the sharpness of her grief has worn away."

"We cannot spare you; there is no one to fill your place," said Mr. Ridly, rising and going to the window to hide his embarrassment, and pretending to be greatly interested in gazing at the passers-by.

"Cannot an exchange be effected with the Clitherington company?" asked Alice.

"Not without considerable expense and inconvenience," responded Mr. Ridly.

"I never before knew you regard either inconvenience or expense when I have asked a favour at your hands," said she reproachfully.

"True, but your present request is beyond my power to grant."

"Poor Emma!" sighed Alice.

"I will do for the child anything you may ask. I will consent to any plan you may suggest, save a removal."

Then, Mr. Ridly, our interview is at an end," said the actress coldly.

"No, no!" exclaimed he, suddenly quitting the window and resuming his seat; "you must not dismiss me thusI could not bear your displeasure. Alice, Alice!" he continued, "you are aware of the power you exercise over me, and, though my tongue has never spoke the word, you know how I love you. I have been a lonely, wretched man for many years-should be such now, were it not for Alice Thorn!" "Mr. Ridly!" said the widow, withdrawing her hand, which he had seized.

"Alice Thorn!"

"Who are you? What is your history?" "You are abrupt in your questionings."

"Ah, well! never heed them," said Alice, faintly smiling, "but let us return to the business we were discussing regarding Emma Chipperton's future."

"Become my wife, Alice Thorn, and Emma Chipperton's future shall be my care and

"Your wife, Mr. Ridly !"

"Will you purchase a guardian for the little girl, on the terms I propose?" asked he, taking her hand, and pressing it between his trembling fingers.

"I have

"I know so little of you," stammered Alice. always thought you a strange, nay, a mysterious man."

66

'Humph! and because I didn't trumpet forth my secret affairs-sorrows I may have deemed them-to the world, I have been considered a strange and mysterious man, eh, Alice Thorn !"

"I have not been alone in my conjectures," returned she. "And what were those conjectures ?" asked Mr. Ridly, passing his arm round the widow's pliant waist.

"That you were a married man.”

"Go on."

"That you had run away

from your

wife."

Humph!" said Mr. Ridly, drawing Alice closer to him. "You do not reply," observed she, in an uneasy tone. "Your conjectures were shrewd ones.

"You confess that I rightly surmised?" exclaimed Alice, recoiling.

"You know Mrs. Haller's story ?" whispered he.

Oh, I understand," faltered Alice, with changed manner; 'your wife ran away from you-dishonoured your name?" "Yes," replied Mr. Ridly, knitting his brows, and compressing his lips; "yes, she did."

"And she is still your wife, and you are insulting me." Nay, there your penetration is at fault."

"Are you free? Is she

"Dead. I have replied to your question before it was asked."

"You have suffered deeply," said Alice; "your conduct, always so eccentric in my eyes, is now fully explained."

"There is a healing balm for all wounds," observed Mr. Ridly; "you have been mine. I never desired freedom from my former tie till I knew you-nay, I did not hold my life of the value of a straw till I learned to love you. Don't smile, Alice, and think my loving days gone by because my locks are streaked with silver. My heart has waked from its long slumber-waked to happiness, if I have won a place in Alice Thorn's affections."

How was it that his gruff voice had such a pleasing sound to the widow's ear? How was it that his stern eyes had lost their fierce gleam? And how was it she returned the warm pressure of his hands? Tut! what need to answer all

these questions. And Mr. Ridly recounted to Alice all the events of his former life: his many trials and struggles for the fame which he had obtained; his marriage with the woman whom he loved, and his visions of joy, which were never realized; his broken peace; his wife's reckless conducther perfidy, and lastly, his dishonour and downfall.

Alice asked how she had died.

"When

"In a lunatic asylum, raving mad," replied Ridly. passing through Manchester, three years ago, I was tempted, by mere curiosity, to visit a madhouse, in which I found my wife. You may judge of my astonishment and horror at the terrible discovery. The ensuing year we passed again through Manchester, and I again visited the asylum. My wife was dead."

And Mr. Ridly won Alice Thorn, married her, and Emma Chipperton became their adopted child.

CHAPTER IV.

YEARS fled on, and the booth continued to flourish. Mr. Ridly had no desire to go into the world again, and Alice was contented and happy in the husband she had chosen, and in the obscurity of her position. For Emma, her adopted daughter, she wished a brighter lot; she was so pretty and so clever. Alice said it would be cruel to bury her in the country, where she would utterly waste both her youth and talent. Alice often talked to Emma of her future life, of the great metropolis, and the brilliant prospects of a London engagement, but she failed to arouse in the young girl's breast the slightest ambition; her nature was too quiet, too affectionate, too grateful, to seek a change that would remove her from the side of her long-tried friends.

'Julius, too," mused Emma, "what would he do if she left the booth? He could not act. No, he would never