"There is no telling. Look at his face it never alters. You might as well try to read a block of marble. But what will Mrs Tiltoff say?"

Then the gallant Captain made use of an expression which need not be repeated, but which gave the editor to understand that Mrs Tiltoff's views would not materially affect the course of any pending negotiation. The picture which had presented itself to Delvar on the occasion of his last visit, when he entered the drawing-room unexpectedly, and found Baron Phlog and Mrs Tiltoff alone, arose involuntarily before his mind's eye. "The fellow's a worthless scoundrel," said he to himself as the Captain stalked off, "and it will serve him right. I would not save him if I could."

Meanwhile Dexter File pursued his walk, sometimes immersed in his own reflections, sometimes lifting his head and looking around him, and often turning round to survey the house, which seemed to him a romantic-looking old place, quite suitable to the purpose which was in his mind. "A little lonely," said he to himself, "but I guess it will do. At any rate, I need not stay in it longer than I like. Dreadful bad lot, that Captain. I reckon I will get out of this tomorrow morning, and not see him again."

And thus ruminating according to his wont, he walked on until he reached the park gates, and then he turned into the high-road, and continued his stroll until he reached the little village of Pilford, which stood a couple of miles or so from the house. He had never yet seen a true English village; and this one delighted him beyond measure, for there was a church which was evidently hundreds of years old, and some tumbledown cottages, and a venerable inn with little lat

once

File

ticed windows, and roses climbing up all over them. And hard by the inn were actually the parish stocks, half mouldered away, but still capable of holding a man fast by the legs if they were clapped down upon him. inspected this machine with an interest which St Paul's Cathedral had failed to inspire to inspire in him. When at last he turned away, he noticed that in front of the inn there were three large covered carts or waggons drawn up, from one of which, unless he was deceived, a stove-pipe issued, and as he drew nearer he could see that smoke was coming out of the pipe. Evidently it was a house on wheels, and File made up his mind that he had been lucky enough to fall in with what he called a circus. A man was standing at the inn door, watching the clouds drifting across the sky, and to him File addressed himself.

"Can you tell me," said he, scarcely knowing what to ask, "how far I am from Four Yew Grange?"

"Why, you have come from that direction now. Are you going there, sir, may I ask?"

"I expect to sleep there to-night." "Then you probably know Squire Margrave? You are fortunate, sir-he is as true a gentleas you will find anywhere for twenty miles round. I ought to say so, for he's been a good friend to me."

man

"A circus! Well, no, sir-not so bad as that. We are in the legitimate line; and the time has been when I've had the best people in the county flock to my tent. But that's all over now. We play to the bumpkins, and very soon we shall be thought a touch or two below them. I wish you could have seen us last year, sir: we had one of the greatest actresses in England, although she was a bit off her head at times. Her name was Madame Ruffini."

File gave a start, which the man in the legitimate line immediately noticed. "Maybe you're tired after your walk, sir? Why not step in and take a little refreshment? It is a highly respectable house; I've known the landlord these forty years. If you like good old English ale, you'll find it here. You're not English, sir, I take it?"

"I am an American." "Indeed, sir? Then you may have heard of our Madame Ruffini? I always fancied she came from there. Wonderful country! I wish I had gone there when I was a young man. I should have made a fortune." "And Madame Ruffini is not with you now?"

"Then you have heard of her, sir? No, she is not with us now, but she is to join me soon at Coalfield. I shall be passing through here again on my way to open at Coalfield with her. Would you like to see her? If so, you could not have a better opportunity.

"I never did," said File, gravely, and in truth the natural gravity of his manner had increased considerably during the last few moments. He looked at the man, and then at his caravan, and debated within himself whether there would be any impropriety in offering a little present before he took his departure.

"I cannot drink ale," he said, presently, "but you would oblige me by taking a glass for me, if it's all the same to you." And he slipped a sovereign into the man's hand. The showman looked at it in blank amazement.

"Did you say you would be here again soon?" asked File, not noticing the man's surprise.

"Yes, sir-in about a month from this very day."

"Then I will meet you, and perhaps I can arrange to be at your performance. A month," he added to himself, "ought to give me time enough."

"I will be here, sir, and proud to place myself at your disposal."

As File turned away, he noticed that the name painted on the carts was that of SIMMONS. He might have recognised him by his truly magnificent bow, had he known him better. But as he strolled leisurely back, it was not of poor Simmons that he was thinking, but of a personage who somehow interested him more, although, as he said, he had never seen her— and that personage was Madame Ruffini.

After the ball given by Mrs Peters, Kate Margrave and Reginald met somewhat more frequently,

but it soon became evident to the young baronet that he had made little progress towards restoring

that delightful companionship which had been so much prized, and was SO soon interrupted. A decided coldness might possibly have been overcome, at any rate there would have been something definite to contend with in that, and he would not have despaired of conquering it in the course of time. But it could not be said that actual coldness was shown towards him. He was invariably treated on the footing of an ordinary friend-that, and nothing more. To restore the old relations seemed impossible. There was a certain quiet firmness in Kate's manner which was infinitely more difficult to deal with than open indifference. When they met, it was always in the presence of others, for although Reginald had called once at Lilac Villa, he was not received, and he deemed it wise not to repeat his visit. It was quite possible that, as the landlady had said, neither Margrave nor his daughter was at home; but there had been some little delay before he received this message, and Mrs Talbot did not seem quite at her ease when she delivered it. "She does not wish to see me," said Reginald, as he walked back to his rooms,—and he was right. Kate had decided that in all respects it was better that there should be no opportunity for explanations on either side. She had not hastily decided upon her course, and she did not mean to forsake it hastily. And yet during this time her heart had not changed. To her, first love had come with all the romance which poets ascribe to it, and she cherished it now as a kind of sacred possession, not to be lightly flung aside, even if she had the power to do it; and she doubted within herself whether she had that power. Since she had seen Reginald again, the hope returned to her that the obstacles to their marriage might

one day disappear, for she no longer doubted his affection. Her woman's instinct told her fully as much as his protestations could have done, even if he had been allowed to utter them. It was a hard struggle which she had to make with herself, but having once decided that it was her duty to make it, she did not flinch from it. Her trusty friend, Sally Peters, came to understand her motives, and to respect them. But all the same, she did her best to weaken their hold upon her mind.

"I would never give him up," said she, soon after the ball, "and least of all because of a mistaken sense of what you owe to his family."

"It is not a question of that, but of what I owe to myself—and to him. His mother is no doubt right about it. I dare say I should take the very same view if I were in her position."

"But you are not, and therefore need not be so dreadfully wise. And you do not even know that Lady Tresham opposes the marriage now. She did so once, perhaps, but she has changed her mind.” "And why?"

"Because she sees that her son's happiness is involved. And depend upon it, you will never find any difference in him. He will not give way to his mother on such a matter as this. Recollect that he is not a Frenchman. I think the very least you ought to do, Kate, is to see him. After all the trouble I took to bring you together at the ball, for you to act like this!"

"So that was the reason you gave that wonderful ball, was it? Sally, Sally, you are a most dangerous schemer, and do not seem a bit ashamed of having been found out."

"Ashamed! First show me what there is to be ashamed of. You have chosen to be very hard

"Yes," said Sally, in no wise put out. She went up to Kate, and patted her gently on the cheek. "You will not be so cross with me by-and-by," she said; "some day, instead of laughing at everything I do, you will thank me."

"How do you know that I do not thank you now?" said Kate, turning away with one of those sudden changes of manner which were peculiar to her. This retort puzzled the simple-hearted widow, who never felt quite sure how to interpret her friend's sayings. In one thing, she thought, she could not be mistaken-these two persons in whom she took so great an interest were sincerely attached to each other; and that being so, it was the duty of every one who knew them, to use all lawful means to bring them together again. To accomplish this object, she would have endured much greater trials of patience than those which Kate's raillery inflicted on her.

Just at this time a new ally came to her assistance, but entirely without her knowledge. It was the last person whom either Kate or Mrs Peters would have suspected of entertaining a wish to remove the estrangement which had grown up between the lovers-none other, in fact, than the daughter of Lord Rathskinnan, Lady Selina Plume. It is not to be supposed that Selina was ignorant of the plans which Reginald's mother had formed with regard to her; but she was by no means of a visionary or an imaginative turn, and she had seen quite

VOL. CXXXIV.-NO. DCCCXVI.

sufficient to convince her that it would be absurd to look upon herself in the light of a rival to Kate. To sit down and cry for the moon, seems to give some people a dismal kind of comfort, but Lady Selina did not belong to that class. When the affairs of life did not arrange themselves as she had wished or hoped, she took them as they happened to come, with a gentle resignation which more than one disappointment had possibly rendered comparatively easy to her. Some years had passed since she had indulged in illusions of any kind, either about herself or others. She did not see any good reason why she should not help Kate in any way that was possible. She would not have hesitated even to have brought all her influence to bear upon Lady Tresham, if she had thought that the great difficulty lay in that quarter. But she soon found reason to believe that the mother had practically retired from the field. She had not openly surrendered, but she was a noncombatant. The obstacle had to be looked for in a different direction, and a woman of half Lady Selina's penetration would have discovered it without making a very long search.

When Margrave's great reverse fell upon him, Selina took some trouble to find out his retreat, and to call upon Kate. Their previous acquaintance had not been particularly intimate, but it was close enough to justify her in offering various little services which could not be rejected without churlishness. She went to see Kate as often as she was able, and talked to her on the subjects which most interested her, and now and then persuaded her to take a drive in the park, where at least she could see and be seen by her old friends. These visits became very pleasant

21

to Kate-they recalled a past which had been without a cloud, and they made her feel that her connection with those who were associated with that past was not entirely severed. There were still some links remaining to connect her with the great world from which she had been parted. Lady Selina, on her part, was charmed with the perfect frankness and sincerity of the young girl, and detected, with much greater accuracy than others had done, the true state of her feelings towards Reginald. Even Margrave himself, with all his love for his daughter, had not read the secret so skilfully as Selina. In her opinion, Kate was right in the view she had taken, and yet she saw that if the resolution which she had formed was not changed, sorrow would be brought upon two lives. It required infinite tact to induce Kate to talk upon the subject at all; but at last she had succeeded in leading her gently to it, and then she had opened her heart freely, and had told Selina that she looked upon her engagement as at an end for ever.

"Then I think you are wrong," said Selina, with great gentleness, "and I will tell you why. You seem to look upon Reginald Tresham as a very rich man, and upon yourself as a poor girl. You are in error in both respects. I do not consider that any girl can be poor with your gifts. In these days people do not hesitate to buy a clever picture simply because it is painted by a woman. We have triumphed over most of the prejudices against our sex.

Now you

are very successful. I hear from everybody how well your pictures have sold. You have what dear Dr Johnson once called the 'potentiality' of growing rich. So much for that. Now what is Reginald's position? He is not what the world calls a rich man; he would

be able to support his wife comfortably-that is all. There is no inequality between you. He could maintain his wife; and to do that is every man's duty. Do you think that he would like you to work for him?"

"Not that, undoubtedly-but when we became engaged I had what people call expectations. That is all over. You know as well as I do what sort of a marriage Lady Tresham desires for her son. I would never consent to be taken into her family on sufferance."

"You forget that Reginald himself is the head of the family. As for his mother, it may be that she had other plans for him, but they are at an end. You need not let them even enter into your thoughts." Lady Selina spoke cheerfully as she said this, but she could not quite suppress a sigh.

"Those plans would very likely

have been better for him than his own," replied Kate, who knew well that it must have cost her friend an effort to reconcile herself to the failure of all Lady Tresham's projects.

"I do not think so. Marriage without love is not a short road to happiness. Even with it, it appears that it is not always the certain road. That Reginald loves you, none of us have any doubt; and you ought to doubt it least of all. Lady Tresham was mistaken in her ideas, but she will learn to appreciate you better by-and-by.”

If Reginald himself had been aware that his cause was being thus ably pleaded, he would at this period have had a better hope of its success than he allowed himself to entertain. For some reason or other, his one friend on whom he thought he could rely seemed to have abandoned all hope, and his visits to Mrs Peters left him more discouraged than he was before. The last time he had seen her she had sent him away with the con