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Lxow FIRST PUBLISHED.]

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Lxow FIRST PUBLISHED.] C A M.TO L À: A GIRL WITH A FORTUNE. BY JUSTIN MCCARTHY. Author of "r.Irss MiSAKTHROPE," MAID OF ATHENS," &c. CHAPTER XXV11.—THE RETURN OF THE FUGITIVES. Vinnie Lammas was in the rare position of hav- ing the one great ambition of her life gratified. She was private secretary to a great lady—at all events to Mrs Pollen, who appeared great enough in the eyes of the Fitzurseham foik, and would have been made ever so much of by the West End of London if only she had been willing to accept the West End's attentions. Vmme came every day to Fitzurse House, and wrote letters for Mrs Pollen, or read to her, or walked or drove with her. She went home late in the evening or at any hour, late or early, when Mrs Pollen was returning to town, and Cnristian 1 llgrnn was sometimes sent to see her safely to her door. Mrs Pollen never said a word to Vmme about tue pinnae into the river.. Vinnie felt that her ambitions long-familiar wish was granted, and that she ought to be happy. To do her justice, she tried hard to be happy. She made up her mind that she would get to be happy as fast as ever she could. Common grati- tude to all who had been so kind to her cubed for that much sacrifice—tho renunciation of disap- pointment's luxury, she thought. Mrs Lammas Was made happy by the position Vinuie had got, and by the improvement in Vinnie's health and spit its. Indeed, but for her own secret troubles, her disappointed love, her broken idol, her sense of I eniteuee and shame for her one act of despon- dency and wildness, Vinnie must have been haupyjust now. Mrs Pollen was one of the kindest, and at the same time one of ths most interest ing and original of patronesses. Mr Koinont was in and out a good deal, and always talked to Vinnie in the most friendly way, quite as ifVhe were iI, regular lady. Vinnie s sensations when she saw Mr Romont for the first tune after "that night" were such as she could never forget She thought- how dreadful she must have looked when lit lifted her out of the water and carried her, shore; what a frightiul dripping bundle ot clo. hes she must- have been; in what untold un. imannabie disorder: Sue wondered what he must have thought of her she wondered she ever had the courage to look him in the face. -but ne \Va,s so kind and friendly, so easy in his mannei and so respectful that he put her quite at her ease and she soon forgot all about it—except at toiomcnt?, except at sudden awful moments, when lt would all come back upon her with a rush, and she felt tempted to run out of the room, or at least to hid her face in her hands. It wa" very interesting when Mr Ilomont came in and sat with Airs Pollen and Vinnie, and per- haps had afternoon tea, and talked about, every- thing—what things he had seen and done, what Places, what countries he had been in! and Mis Pollen, too, between them they appeared to have been everywhere in the world. Vinnie had never been brought into close acquaintanceship with a yonni' xran like Romont, who seemed to have absolutely nothing to do in the way ot business, or Cif mnki. g a living. After so many years of Poveity n'd hard work, seeing everyone around her IKU-CI at work, and nevertheless very poor, it Was strange buyond comprehension of expression *0 Vlnme^to find herself the friendly companion of people who never thought about making money, °"lv, as it looked to Vinnie, about spending it; who'had no business of their own to do, but were constantly bu-v about the affairs of other people, trying- to make them better and to keep them "freight.' Mrs Pollen's absorbing interest in a fehe!ne for a co operative butcher's shop at Fitz- fcrseiiam filled Vinnie with the utmost wonder. I'o thi: of a great, rich lady like that actually asking up her°inind to start a butcher's shop of hoy o7.-n for the purp- *e of selling good meat cheap to the dn Adtu) uood-for-nothing thankless people ?■ Fiizur-iijlumi! and Mr Romont, too, was going Int., the matter as seriously as if he had been "hf" »ugtt up to the business from his infancy. Vinnie always had had an impression that people likt> that never knew of the existence of butchers aIJd their shops, and, if they had known, would fisvt r h-^ve allowed one moment's thought to such low subjects Then what things they talked of, Mrs J> ,il, n and Mr Komont! What odd, clever things they both said. How funnily they chaffed j on" another Vinnie did not always catch the point of their sayings quite in time sometimes she oroke into little spurts of laughter which though Itieant for the past joke seemed to come in as the proper tribute to the passing jest. They must be Vety happy, she thought, and why shouldn't they he when they are so good, and so kind,' and so I';(;h ? Romont, we know was not rich, and he had his troubles and he was not always by any ft'ans happy. But no hint of any trouble of his got to Viume's ears, ar.d to ber he was as rich as Croesus, Camiola did not come to Fitzurseham House tuese davs she wrote a letter to Mrs Pollen now aad then, mostly saying that nothing yet had been heard from Janette. No one from the Rectory Same near the place. Lady Letitia in her heart hiamed Mrs Pollen for her patronage of Walter and nourished a kind of acrid thought th&t only for Mrs Pollen things might not have turned out ns they did. Mrs Pollen, perhaps, "M'ected the existence of some such feeling QWI in any case would not have cared to intrude JP"n the Lisles just then. She thought she had heu,er maintain for the present an attitude of Neutrality. I cannot say what side I may have 40 take yet," she thought, "if they hold out *gainst Janette." .One or two evenings after the meeting on the Ejverside between Romont and Camiola, Mrs Pollen, Vinnie, and Romont were on the lawn of itzurse House. Viunie had a volume of Shake- speare ill her hand, from which the had been read- 1lJI{ to Mrs Pollen when Romont presented him- 8&lf. Then Romont stretched himself on the grass 8.1Hl Mrs Pollen and he fell to talking in their Visual iliscursory way, flinging ideas and epigrams and paradoxes at e-.ch other, during intervals of Ri'iiv-r discussion on Australian mutton, and the dwelling 0f the poor, and the difficulty of keeping this Fitzursehamite sober, and that litzurseham- children at school. I have often wondered," Mrs Pollen said, "what are the most pathetic words in Shakes- peare." I have thought of that, too," Romont said. I wonder what he has not thought of," Vinnie asked her own mind as she looked discreetly but ^■Ildi'USlgly at him. What is your idea?" Mrs Pollen asked. No I would rather have yours first." "Weil, I woi'dnr whether any words ever writ- ten or spoken could have more pathetic meaning 'w them 1 han those about loving 'not wisely but t(,o well V Think what a picture of lost lives and fost feelings—of love destroying what it loved, ajid ;dl out of very love, 'not wisely but too well,' Thing of that, and of all it calls up with it in °he'> mind ?" Yea; but what do you say to 'Perchance, *ago, I will ne'er go home?" "That seems to me terrible," little Vinnie ven- tured to say, if I understand it rightly." Camiola always stands out for it," Mrs Pollen quietly, "that nothing can exceed the Path. of Antony's words about 'The poor last'—' Until, of in.tiy thousand kisses, the poor lav upon th}' lips.' Come, what do you say to thai"?-' Oil, but I ilvnk it is quite to bring tears into ?r>yo»ie's eYl", Vinnie declared. Shewus becom- ing quite the poetic and Shakesperian scholar itoia., SHomed distracted. He turned himself 'Vqnie; :y on the grass. "I shouldn't have thoijjfj,t she would fix on that," he said at last. Why 110:, dear youth ?" There seems such an intensity of love, and Passion, and pain in it. I didn't think women felt so much as that. When? How is that? Do you mean women 111 g.e.e-a'.—or thi; particular woman?" W ell, th0rù seeuls It passionate depth in these Words that somehow dves not seem to me to be -c)t by women of a certain nature—Englishwomen «s>A-t-.aily..Some women seem to be rather lifted thHL emotion In Let you don't know anything about the In I don'v." "Who ot; ea th would have thought that a girl '4e J.iue.te Linle, brought up in that kind of way ai'd :i> ,«ucli a household, would have been so can;. d ;n» jtv oy iu 1* iove as to kick right over the traci' ;vad lun off t" I aiwavs thought there was something a •i't'e hysterical about her," Romont said, "aomo- thinij not quite healthy, something lather undis- c'p'ire!—apt to be nuitinuous if any chance should come. I begin to understand you now," Mrs Pollen j?9i<i with a smile, I didn t before, les I sfee. «''e is an undisciplined little thing who runs aivav with, her lovei. Hut there are nobler and ^Orti«r trrainr .s. compact of purer tiro and liner c'i-y, w,,o would not condescend to do flllyt-hmg Or tf'n kind, and whose lovers are only all the Ninre irroud of tln-'m because thev keep thpir love "t: the boiid;; of becoming discipline Jfix- åltiy; yo.t like Lite women not to show too much t: p;s o.jrite ilepth oi emotion and all that. ■Wy .j, vo'.ith, what an iiisulur you are alter ^l! '• Jiut/f a-iy, woe.13 have we led. the Immortal ilojst <<f this was sh- er mystery to Vinnie. A letter was handed to Mrs Pollen. She X'l1a.l it, giaueing up even while she was reading, Now at Roiooiit and now at Vinnie. "This is 'l'ota Miss Sabine," she said. "Our iomant;e. ^aunor^rs have returned at ieast it they iiaven't uit5y have uivo signal of their where-. ll'0'u>; and'ihey <leol.ro themselves ready to i'etiu- Tf all is forgiven, they are willing to c»»ne oack. Wjjere t'o they write from? From jlreineu—of all j»laces in the world." t( Or erairse yes, I know, Romont said Notj,h Corman'Lioyu steamers. They are ready 0.n;t to America if they are not invited to Jei||i'U home." Precise A'. The letter comes from Janette— fr°t« Mr!, Fitzurse—so Caiiiola tells me. They i.iai-rii-d ceremony took place in Scotland, thty went at ouce to Bremen, to be out of y:' Way"«.f all possible trouble by pursuit or M;:iervv; ;,111; if they are not asked to come a°k to England, they will go to America, and in the New World to redress the balance of he old. That isn't Camiola's phrase, mind, tl0r Nanette's it's mine. I mean it's my quota- 10,1 ;roni Pitt, or Canning, or somebody, and I 1'itlier proud of the application of it now. <» V,:u Sliuc^ "a the spur of the moment. J "> -iear, '.lies.* romantic young lovers I declare ailTnire her iioui 'tiselv, and I only wish I could adl:>ue him/' r>J,"i!ioiit 11;\d risen to his feet now, aud Mrs waiked a few paces with him. 5 I'hat child tak(;s it well, slie said quietly, ••die.iting Viunie. Every day will make her t.l'nger now. It is the doubt and suspense that I doi pity her BOw so much any lor but I feel rather distressed about poor Janette. Can he ever come to anything good do you think ?" Romont shook his head. I am afraid not. I don't see the root of any goodness in him." Well, of course, you will say nothing. You won't interfere with whatever chance he has of retrieving himself? Mind, my frienll-, for Janette's sake?"' Uh, God forbid Romont said, fervently. For her sake, and for her mother's, I'll stand aside. If he can come to better things, I'll not I hinder him. The thing it done now." Would you like to have Camiola's letter? I'll give it you if you would?" Romont looked eagerly at the little letter. His lover's impulse was at first to take it. "No," he said after a moment, "it's not mine. What's the good it's yours, Mrs Pollen." Have you anyHcrap of a letter from her?" Not a line. But you have written to her?" "Yes:once; a few lines, as I told you." "She keeps these lines, Mrs Pollen said with a halt-melancholy smile. I don't know." Ask her," Mrs Pollen said, "years from this, and she will produce the letter." The moment the Lisles heard of their daughter's whereabouts, they sent a. telegram to Bremen, and tin; result was that within forty-eight hours Mr and Mrs Walter Fitzurse arrived at the Rectory. Walter had his wife aud himself dressed in the most becoming way for a youutr pair who had made a secret marriage. It was a semi-peniten- tial, throw ourselves on the mercy of parent" sort of get up. Walter had still ill his pocket a few, truly a very few, of the sovereigns which had once weighted .'Irs Pollen's casket. He had spent pretty freely for the few days of the adven- ture, and if the Lisles had proved obdurate, he positively would not have been able to pay for ths passage to America, unless by the pawn- ing of watches and chains, and some of J anette's trinkets. The returning fugitives were well received at the Rectory oy every one but Georgie. He could net keep down his dislike or Fitzurse, whom he considered a beastly cad; and he-could not get over his annoyance with Janette, because she Üad put the family so much out with her confounded nonsense. 1 say, Janette, what a fool you have made of yourself," was his tender greeting to his newly-married sister. Janette only smiled. She knew it was his way, and she did not believe he really meant it, and she thought that all brothers rather liked to snub their sisters and take the conceit out of them. Besides, she was far too happy to mind what even Georgie might have thought about her. Mrs Pollen called, and brought Romont with her. The moment was trying for Romont. He knew-that all eyes were on him. Mrs Pollen was watching him with a curious interest, that, merely, of a spectator who is anxious to know how sume person suddenly made prominent will get througo a difficult piece of ceremonial. Camiola, who had not the sam. knowledge ot the actuali- ties of the situation, lixed her eyes on Romont with a different interest. She could not but think that something had passed between Romont and Fitzurse which would explain, if she only knew it, Romont's sudden intervention and she looked on with as much eagerness, as she might now get some glimpse of the truth from the expres- sion of his face. Janette longed to see Romont welcome her husband with a truly cordial and friendly greeting; and she expected this and looked for it. Fitzurse came iorvvard and held out his hand, and he looked into Romont's eyes. The expression was eloquent. It said as plainly as words could speak, 1 am at your mercy I know it. I deserve anything but will you des- troy me ?'' Then Romont accepted the situation. "Over ankles over knees" is a sensible, practical sort of proverb when one is for a thing, he may as well go right in for it. Romont did the necessary bit of play-acting and pretence with as good a grace and as much appearance of earnestness as ail his practice in disguises and skill in private thea- tricals enabled him to assume. He clasped Walter Fitzurse's hand. "Fitzurse, my dear boy, how delighted I am to see you here"—emphasis on'here'—"aud to give you my heartfelt congratulations." Walter returned the clasp of the hand with a peculiar sort of little after-pressure which plainly said, You have spared mo and saved me. I un- derstand all youi?feelings. I give you my unend- ing gratitude." The minds of all the party were somehow re- lieved. There was hardly one present who had not had a more or less vague suspicion that Romont was Fitzurse's enemy, and could tell something dreadfully against him if he would. At the same time the common conviction was that Romont was a man who would not have pretended to any feeling which was not really in his heart. There- fore when he thus cordially welcomed Fitzurse, and warmly clasped his hand, it was like the verdiefc-of acquittal by a jury of honour. Such is the value of a good character—such is even its oblique value, its refracted value. Romont's good character vindicated Walter, and Romont mean- while was acting in direct contravention to his own principles, and making use of a good charac- ter to screen a bad one. It must be left to casuists and moralists to decide how far he was excusable in this, or whether he was wholly wrong. Ought he to have then and there exposed and proclaimed Walter's falsehood and treachery ? Ought he to have told of the attempt at robbery and the attempt at murder? Ought he to have thereby rendered it impossible for Walter to retrieve him- self, and so made Janette and Janette's father and mother unhappy for life ? If he were not to do this, then was he justified in completely con- cealing Walter's past misdeeds, and so giving him a real and not a sham chance of retrieving him- self? A formal reception, a chilly reception, would assuredly have left Walter an object of sus- picion and mistrust in the fyes of Mr Lisle, and Lady Letitia, and Camiola; would even have perhaps sown the first seeds of doubt and distrust in the innocent heart of Janette herself. Could Romont make up his mind to do this ? As well go in for a complete exposure at once. Walter Fitzurse setting out to retrieve himself with the burden of common suspicion imposed upon him would have but a poor chance of making1 much way. Romont could not make himself the means of spoiling the unfortunate young man's last chance. He clasped Fitzurse's hand, and gave Fitzurse his good character to begin with all over again. A sudden revulsion of good spirits came to Romont's help when this trying little scene was fc.i.tly"got through, and he set talk soon going and kept it alive. Janette withdrew into the back- ground with Camiola. Georgie hung upon their skirts, pressing upon Janette a certain un- wonted tenderness of brotherly interest, and all the time acting as a sort of screen between Camiola and any possible approach from the gene- ral company. N ever does a young man look to less advantage in the eyes of the youug woman he adores, and who does not adore him, than when he is trying to prevent some rival from coining to speech of her. Camiola understood perfectly well what Georgie was about. She could have ex- plained to him the meaning of every movement he made, and every postion he fell into, and every step he took; and she thought him provokingly undignified and ridiculous. CHAPTER XXVIII.—LOVE-GHOSTS HAUNT THE CHUKCHTAKD. What was it that prompted Vinnie a day or two after this to turn into the old churchyard ? She had not passed its gate since the night of the attempt to drown herselr. She had always felt a shudder come over her when she thought of it. Yet this morning, when returning from her mother's lodging to Fitzurse House, she felt drawn and driven by a curious phantasy to go out of her way for the purpose of taking one look at the spot which was so long sacred to her love and happi- ness. She reached the gate, opened it in a half- fearful way as if something painful must happen to her should she go inside and she went iuside. She made her way to the wall that overlooked the ri ver, and stood there a moment and recalled the memories of that dreadful night. The place was ill solitude; the solitude and the sight of the water sent a chill through her. She turned away, and feeling weak and faint she sat down, just as she used to sit when she was waiting for Walter in the old days. Well, she was recovering from all that madness, she thought, and perhaps it might have been as well it she had not come into this churchyard so soon again. But she would have to see the old places and she must be able to bear it; she would nave to see him again, and to be able to bear that. Suddenly she heard the gate move, and she knew that someone had entered the churchyard. She did not look up, f he kept her eyes fixed on the ground; she wanted to see nobody if possible, not to be seen. The steps came nearer and nearer; it seemed as if they were now coming directly to her, and she heard her name spoken. The word made her tremble and suirt. She looked up, and with crimsoning checks saw that it was Walter Fitzurse that stood beside her. Oh, what memories of happy, hopeful, loving days and evenings, sunny afternoons, soft dusk, quiet, contented hours in the glow of the fireside, with Mrs Lammas at her work a little removed—what memories like these came rushing upon Vinnie as she saw him with his eyes fixed beseechingly on her! And then what recollections of bitter dis- appointment and desolation, of cruel loneliness and the agony of waiting in vain of pain, and madness and desperation, and of that ghastly midsummer night's dream; tbat momcnt on the churchyard wall, that wild look up at the sky, the plunge into the swift rushing river. Out of that river she seemed to have come a new human beuig. Youth, and hope, and love, and disap- pointment, all were buried for her in that stream. Yet to see him now, and to bo spoken to by him, seemed almost as if it could bring back the former Viunie Lammas again, and torture her with the same misplaced love and the same cruel disap- pointment. He ought not to have come near her or spoken to her, she thought; and yet, of course it must be, sooner or later, and perhaps he was rifht to get it over at once. She was determined that she would not show any weakness the past was the past for her. Mr Fitzurse 1" she said, making a desperate effort, and looking up to him with dazed eyes which hardly saw anything I am so glad you are come home again. I dion t expect to see you here." here." No, Vinnie, and I didn t expect to see you. I turned in quite by chance just to have a look at the old place. But I am very glad to see you, Vinnie." Thank you," said Vinnie, rather blankly. "I am giad that you are well, and—and—I think I had better be going." One moment, Vinnie. As we have met-we haven't met, you know for a long time—I want to know-I should like—I hope you have learned to forgive me?" He spoke in a low, pathetic, pleading tone, and looked very humble and beseeching. "I don't know that I have anything to for- give, Mr Fitzurse. I think it was all my own fault. I was very silly. I fancied you wore very really in love with me and that it would last like that for ever. I know now what nonsense that was, and how young geutlemen like to flirt as mucb as thev cartv wit' aay girl that comes in their way and I thought it all meant some- thing, and now, of coarse, I know it meant nothing." Still I want to hear you say that you forgive me. I cannot feel at rest in my heart until Ihear you say you forgive me. Oh, yes, I forgive you, if I have anything to forgive, and I cannot forgive myself quite as easilv. I hop3 wou will be happy, very happy, Mr Fitzurse—all your life." The tears in net- eyes were blurring for her the scene and the outlines of his face. I don't deserve happiness. I did you great wrong. I don't know how it was It was all very natural, and easy to under- stand," Vinnie said. You had only known me a short time, and you thought you—you cared about me and then you saw a beautiful young lady, rich, and of rank, and educated, and clever, and all that;" and, of course, you fell in love with her. You couldn't help that; and she is much better suited to you than I could ever have been— and don't mind about me. I am all right; people are very kind to me; and I hope you may be very happy and she—and please I think I must go now." "I should have been very happy, Vinnie, if I had nevar seen her. I should have been very happy with you-" i „ Oh, no, no, no," she exclaimed vehemently, don't say that. It never could have been we never were meant for one another. I think I felt that, or 1 feared it even at the time. You ought to be in society and make a figure in che world. You were made for it and born for it, and I am only a poor little girl, and I should have been a mele drag on you; and a dead-weight on you-and oh it's ever so much better as it is, and I shall soon come to be reconciled to it." A throb of keen and cowardly delight went through him. She was not yet reconciled to it that was quite clear; she loved him still.^He had come into the churchyard without the slightest expectation of seeing Vinnie, and, to say the truth, without one single thought concerning her. He had for the time shaken off all memory of her, and his chief idea in entering the churchyard was that it would bo pleasant now in the height of his success to have a look at the old place where he used to hang about in his unsuccessful day. The sudden sight of Vinnie surprised him, and roused his curiosity. Why had she come tnore ? Was it because she was still th inking of him? This was interesting. He spoke to her and from the moment of her reply he went on without any definite purpose but such as each new word or tone or gesture of hers might suggest. In a few instants he found himself playing the tender, apologetic part ot one who too late discovers that he has thrown a pearl away richer than all his tribe. Walter lived mainly for success in life, but unfortunately for him his power to play a part had astrangeiv incongruous and fantastic vein in it; and he was always turning aside to-indulge in a mood of semi-sensuous and dreamy sentimen- talism. That was the one defect which for his other defects filled him with faults. lor the moment it was nothing to him that he was the recognised and received husband of an earls granddaughter. Fate had thrown Vinnie Lammas in his way-Vinnie Lammas whom he llad tossed aside so heedlessly, and about whom half an hour ago be cared no more than he cared tor bally in Our Alley and behold he must site down by her and indulge himself in playing for a few minutes the part of the repentant lover who comes, too late, to see the full value of the love-treasure he has lost. He sot down by Vinnie and endeavoured to take her hand. He had no evil purpose, no deliberate purpose of any kind. Chance threw in his way the opportunity of a fresh and interesting sentimental sensation, and he could not for the life of him resist the temptation. Vinnie drew her hand away and got up. Yon are right," he said, rising also, and stand- ing not quite so close to her as before; "you are right, dear Vinnie, and I was wrong." She did not ask him what he meant, although she had not been offering any opinions as to the right or wrong of anything. "I was wrong in attempting to touch your hand, he said, or to sit near you, or to detain you here. We are nothing to each other any more, and should keep apart. We shall have to see each other, I suppose, but we must not meet any more for I don't call seeing each other in a crowd or in a room with other people —I don't call that meeting. You will love some one yet who will be better worth your love than I was and you will be happy. I almost wish I had not come in here to-day. But how did I know ? There is a fate in these things, I suppose. Good-bye." "Oh, Walter—Mr Fitzurse," she exclaimed, "how I wish vou bad not come here to-day Why did I come here? What brought me ? I was getting reconciled and quiet, and I thought I was able to bear anything; and I was getting over the memory of that dreadful night. Oh, why must I think of it?" What night, Vinnie? What dreadful night?' He asked this question in all sincerity. That night—oh, don't you know ? Oh, you do know-—the night—that Sunday night—when I came here and tried to drown myself-flung my- self into the ri ver-" Vinnie Vinnie I never heard-I never knew anything about this. Whit night was it? Why did you do it?" I did it because I was mad, because I was in love with you, and you didn't care about me any more It was only a little while ago, the Sunday night when you went away--went away--I mean when you went to be married to Miss Lisle. 011, I was so* miserable and so wild, I hardly knew what I was doing, and I wanted to be out of life, and I came here and flung myself into the water—and I must have been drowned only for Mr Romont ■" Only for Mr Romont! Did he save you ? Was it he?" He saved me — he is so strong and brave Sometimes I wish he hadn't saved me; but he did, and he and Mr Pilgrim brought me to the Rectory—and then every one was kind to me. And Mrs Pollen is so good—and I was getting better—and I wish, Waller Fitzurse, that you hadn't come—and why, why, why didn't you leave me alone ?" The poor girl fairly broke down in tears and hysterics. She was terrified at the thought of falling back again into her old love. She felt like some weakling lover of drink who has been doing his best to keep temperate and sees temptation suddenly thrust under his very eyes—who longs to be reformed and finds all his worser nature craving for drink, and who can only moan and shudder at the thought that if this last long enough, the spirit of evil will carry ^She safe down again, and Walter sat beside her, more boldly now. A sensation of mere triumph was filling nim. Viunie had tried to drown her- self for love of him That was magnificent ro- mance. But one cannot have everything, and there was a bitter drop in the thought that Romont had saved her, that Romont knew all about him and his love affair with Vinnie; that Vinnie had probably told it all to Romont: that Romont would remember how, the very first night Walter and he met, Romont had talked a good deal about Vinnie and her supposed lover in FitzurBeham, and had not suspected that the lover was sitting there before him. Walter began to be almost borne down by the thought of the number of things Romont knew about him, and the dread of his some day letting them all out. I hope, Vinnie," he said gravely, you did not think of confiding to Mr Romont, or to anyone else, that chapter in our history which has 'ended so strangely for both of us ? It would not be like you to do that." I never told anyone," Vinnie taid, flushing a little. I was never asked any question by any one. They are all too good and kind to think of cross-questionine me—and I didn't know till after that it was Mr Romont who saved me. I didn't know it till next day and I never spoke one word to him about it. I never even thanked him • I thought he would rather I didn't—at least' that he would think perhaps it pained me to say anything about it, and so would rather I didn't; for he wouldn't misunderstand me, I know." Walter Fitzurse was conscious of a positive pang of jealousy shooting through him, keen as a physical pain. He was made jealous by Vinnie's evident admiration for Romont. She is in love with him-they all like him—every one," was his thought. "Well Vinnie," he said, "we must part. I mustn't keep you here. I am glad we have met again 'and sorry, too, I think, but we should have to meet some time, and it is as well we should have our meeting here, in this old place —this dear old place. You do not love me any more, Vinnie. Why should you? How could you ?" "Yen shouldn't even say such words," Vinnie said, with some spirit. You are married; you have a clever and beautiful wife you couldn't think so badly of me as to suppose that I could care about yon anymore—except as a friend, of course," she added. "You will iove someone else soon," I10 said, watching her keenly why should you not ? Perhaps already-" But the girl stopped him in his speech. "011! for shame," she sobbed, breaking down «gain in tears why do you talk so ? Why can't you leave me alone ? Fancy your telline me that I am in love with some one else already Fitzurse triumphed in his heart. She loves me still," he said to himself; "that is quite clear," Good-bye, Viuuie." He held out his hand, but Vinnie ran past him and out of the gate, and was gone. Fitzurse walked complacently to the Rectory to go out for a drive with Janette, who was pining for him, and was beguiling the drear time of his short absence by discoursing to Camiola about his fitts and his virtues. Fitzurse was made more tender than ever with Janette by the thought that Vinnie Lammas was still in love with him. The knowledge gratified his self-love,and made him all the more willing to be loving to his wife. He had be it said, no evil purpose in his mind as re- garded Vinnie. It would have been of no avail so far as she was concerned; but in fact he had no such thought. He was delighted to think that Vinnie was "still in love with him, and he was pleased that he had met her and had drawn what was really an acknowledgment of this from her and that was enough for h m. He would teU Janette the whole story sometime, he thought the story a little edited in his own interest. It would come out, we may be sure, a story of hope- less passion on the one side, and heroic magnani- mity on the other. 4 Where have yotj been, child?" Mrs Pollen said, as she stood on the lawn aud Vmme came, up to her. •' I've been to see mamma., and I gave her your, message." "Yes, that's right; but what happened to you on the way back ? Did you meet any one ? o. Ob, Mrs Pullen, why do you ask ?" She was frightened. "Well, because I know the sight of your mother whom you see every night didn't throw you into a state of confusion that lasted from her house quite on to minö. You have been crying; let me louk at your eyes. Come now I'll tell you one thing you have been doing. You have been in the old churchyard." Oh, how do you know ?" 1 You have been there, and you have been crying there; lean see | that; and I know why." Mrs Pollen suspected at first nothing more than that Vinnie had gone into the churchyard to indulge in morbid fancies and unwholesome memories there. You must not go there for a long time, child until you have got over all this. It is not goo.) for you to keep the past in your recollection. 1 guessed that you had been to that place the moment I saw your face." Then she Raw another expression pass quick as a flash of light across Vinnie's face the expression of one who has something more to teU, but fears or does not know how to tell it. Oh, there is something more then ? I have not beard all ? You met someone in the churchyard—yes, of course, I see it all now. You met Walter Fitzurse there. That is what happened." Oh. Mrs Pollen, I never thought of seeing him there; I never thought of such a thing. I wonldn't have gone in there for all the world if I had any idea of his ever being there now." "No, Vinnie; I am quite sure of that. I couldn't for a moment suspect you of any wish to see him again." Oh, no, no, no," poor Vinnie murmured. "But he talked to you; and he was pathetic, wasn't he? He" spoke of the old days, and excused himself and all that; and rather implied that it was a pity things hadn't ended otherwise, and destiny and all that sort of thing—" Why, surely, Mrs Pollen," Vinnie asked with wide open and affrighted eyes, you never could have been there! You didn't hear?" Mrs Pollen smiled complacently. She was right, then, in her guesses. The rest would be easy. I wasn't there, child, and I have heard nothing whatever about what he said or you said but I have some experience of the world, and of men, and of girls and I know what that sort of man would say under the circumstances, and I think I know what he wanted to get you to say. Shall I tell you?" "No; please don't," Vinnie said, much dis- tressed. Yes, I must; to show you what sort of person he is, and how much a matter of common form all this sort of thing is. Well, let me see he honed you would be happy with someone else—didn't he ?—and said you would soon nnd someone worthier of your iove than he has been ?" Oh, but how do you know ? Regular sort of thing, my dear child might as well be got oft by heart out of a polite letter- writer, or sent about in circulars. Then he asked you if you hadn't already found someone to love and then you burst into tears and made it only too plain to him that you hadn't. Is that the whole story, Vinnie ? « Poor Vinnie had to confess with renewed shame and tears that that was the whole story that Mrs Pollen knew it all as well as if she had been a listener. Mrs Pollen had given her a sharp and wholesome lesson. All that Walter had said must be in the common trick of such men—else how could Mrs Pollen have known it?—and he was merely playing it off on her to amuse his own vanity. He is not worth thinking about," Mrs Pollen said. Don't you think he ever cared for me any time ?" Vinnie asked timidly. "Never cared, and never will care for you, or anyone in the world but himself," was Mrs Pollen's answer. She was determined to call Vinnie's still uudestroyed sense of self-respect to her rescue, even though she had to sting it into action. ( To be continued.)

FOREST OF DEAN MINER'S UNION.

JUDGMENT IN THE LLANiiLLY…

TREDEGAR IRON AND COAL COMPANY,…

[No title]

THE CHILDREN'S HOUR.I ----,-----

COLLIERS MASS MEETING AT MOUNTAIN…

PAUPER BURIAL AT CARMARTHEN.

---.-RETURN OF THE DUKE OF…

I NATIONAL EISTEDDFOD AT ABERDARE.

----TRINITY HOUSE CORPORA…

BRECONSHIRE AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY.

MURDER OF A SCOTCH GAMEKEEPER.

FIRE AT A LONDON RAILWAY STATION.

[No title]

. AT EIN GOHEBWYR.

BARDDONIAETH.

Y FELLTEN.

Y CWMWL GOLEU.

Y GLOWR.

Y BRADWR.—(B0DDCGOL.)

YR AMAETHWR.

DYDDIAU FY MABOED.

[No title]

YANKEE YARNS.

FACTS AND FANCIES.!