heard before. His words did not reach my ear; but these in reply did:

“Indeed! indeed! you are wrong! If my lord——” And the voice that uttered them was that of my Aunt Margaret.

For a moment I was bewildered, and a little terrified. Where was she? Who was she talking to—“My lord!”—It must be Lord Carleton come home to the castle! Again I heard the other voice; and this time the words were plain enough; their tone I shall never forget, for my heart-strings vibrated to that deep, wild, pathetic music.

“Margaret Hastings, why are you so proud? May I not seek to add a little to your happiness? Hear me, now, Margaret! My Margaret!"

There was a pause as if feeling had impeded utterance; and I heard my aunt's soothing voice again.

“I will hear all you have to say; but not now. You shall see the child. Rest assured thatThe words seemed to die in the distance, as if the speakers were moving slowly away.

Let the reader imagine the state of my mind as I stood rolling my eyes round about, above, and below, in the darkness, as if I expected the walls to open and reveal the secret place in which my aunt held converse so strange. A recollection came suddenly, like an inspiration, to my mind. There was a space—a something—perhaps a door, at the back of the organ. I had noticed it on the night of my arrival, and had forgotten it since. I crept round the instrument, fearlessly, dark as it was.—Ah! what was that ?—A bright light streaming through a keyhole. If I had been a few years older, I should have hesitated to gratify my curiosity by looking through a keyhole. I gave myself no time for reflection, but darted at once to the spot. At first I could see nothing but a blaze of light. After a few minutes, objects became distinct; or, at least, I seemed to see them distinctly. Yet vividly and distinctly as I saw them, it was difficult to believe they were real-that I was not dreaming! They were so similar to those which fancy had called up in my late reverie over that

beautiful fairy romance, that for some moments I doubted whether I were not one of those fortunate children I had read of who are favoured by fairies, and permitted to see things invisible to common human eyes. I had been assured that there were no such things as fairies; and that the stories about King Arthur and the glorious world of romantic chivalry were not true. But what of that? Could I disbelieve my eyes?

The magic world on the other side of that door was more beautiful than any I had pictured to myself. I looked down a long arcade of trees and shrubs of a strange growth and marvellous beauty. They were trees and shrubs of a foreign land, I knew; for I had seen pictures of many of them. Palms and acacias, date-trees and plantains, bent their graceful tops from either side, and formed a luxuriant arch, from the centre of which, at regular intervals, hung what seemed to me to be the most beautiful silver and alabaster lamps, which shed a mild radiance-something between sunlight and moonlight-up among the feathery acacias and the broad palms, and down upon the dark green tropical vegetation, which grew thickly beneath them, and clustered round their tall stems, showing here and there the richest-coloured blossoms. The pathway down this grove was paved with the most delicate mosaic. Far away, where the lamps were blended in one cluster, and where the trees seemed to meet each other, a fountain sprang up into the air, and fell again in a shower of glittering spray. Its basin I could not see. It looked as if it had sprung, at a wish, from the ground, at the feet of the two persons who stood beside it.

Were they mere mortals ?-A man and a woman? Their attitudes were so dignified, that to me they seemed a true King and Queen of Romance. At first I could not see their faces; but presently they turned, and began to walk slowly down the beautiful arcade towards the door where I

was.

Could that graceful, stately lady be, indeed, my aunt? My aunt transformed into a queen! How well the transforma

D

tion became her! Queen Guenever, in my fancy, had worn just such a green velvet gown, sweeping the ground as she walked; and ever after, when I pictured that fair dame to my eye, she wore a headdress such as my aunt wore then. It was a sort of kerchief of netted gold laid over the top of the head, looped up gracefully on either side, with the ends touching the shoulders. It was rich and simple, and to my fancy the fine dress made my aunt's sweet face perfectly beautiful. Her dark eyes looked larger and more lustrous than usual, as they were raised to the face of her companion, who looked down upon her with a sort of melancholy satisfaction. If I was astonished at seeing my own near relation in such a mysterious position, I was much more so when I recognised in her companion the original of that portrait which had laid so firm a hold on my fancy. To be sure, the person I now saw bodily walking with my aunt was much older-looking than the picture. But I never doubted for a moment that it was Mr. Arundel Raby. The costume was somewhat like that of the picture, and the wild beauty of the features was scarcely altered by years, except, perhaps, that the face was more full of thought, and of a certain indescribable tenderness.

They lingered in their walk, and pointed out to each other various beautiful blossoms. Mr. Raby stepped aside to gather a flower which my aunt admired; as he bent his head, in presenting it, she raised one of her beautiful arms, and putting back a mass of hair which had fallen over his forehead, looked earnestly into his eyes. Soon she smiled-that sweet smile of hers,—and I heard her say :

God be

"Yes, it is true. You are much better this time. thanked! We must be more careful with you now." "And you, Margaret," said he, touching her cheek gently with the flower, "you look better. You are brighter than usual. You seldom look so on our first meeting. Your brother's visit has done this; or perhaps, the presence of the child."

"Perhaps it is that. But I shall be better still; and so I

think you will if we have a little music. Will you give me

some now?"

"Will I not ?" And his melancholy face became radiant. He stepped towards the door, behind which I remained, breathless with curiosity.

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Stay, love," said my aunt; "it is fastened on the other side, and there may be some one there.

for François."

You had better ring

My aunt

Mr. Raby walked away towards the fountain. stood still where he had left her. She held to her lips the beautiful flower he had given her; and her calm, deep eyes followed him as he went. Had I been old enough to read all that her attitude and her face expressed, I should have earned a lesson concerning the perfection of womanly love. He came back with a quicker step towards her, and the smile returned to her face. Again he drew her arm within his, and they moved on together—a noble, loving pair-looking silently on each other with the fulness of confidence and affection. Presently François appeared, walking towards them. Mr. Raby spoke briefly, in French.

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To whom François replied, "Oui, milor;" and then glanced towards my aunt. She said a few words in the same language; among which I detected cette porte," mon neveu," and "Susan," which I understood. François bowed and retired. I just stayed to watch the two stately figures begin to glide once more down that beautiful grove, and then I crept away from my loophole of observation back into the dark parlour, where I took up my former place at the window, and looked out into the dusky park. All was as still as before, except my own young heart, which beat wildly with wonder and curiosity at the scene to which I had just been a witness. In a few minutes Susan came into the room with a lamp.

"Oh, there you are, Master Frank. I have been looking everywhere for you. Your aunt has sent to say you are to go to bed directly. It is long past your bedtime. Come along."

And catching me up in her arms, the merry girl carried me off to bed; where, as the reader may suppose, I did not go to sleep very soon, especially as the full notes of the organ and some other musical instruments, besides the sounds of the human voice in concert with them, were borne, now fully and distinctly, now vaguely and faintly, to my listening ear. I was sorely tempted to steal out of bed, and find my way nearer to that delicious music, but I was afraid to displease my aunt; and so I lay looking at the portrait of Mr. Arundel Raby, as it gleamed out in the moonlight, and thinking what a nice face he had, and how glad I was that he was so fond of my aunt. Suddenly a thought came into my mind-Why did people call her an old maid ? She was Mr. Arundel Raby's wife I was almost sure. But then why did she call herself Miss Hastings? I was puzzled by that. Again I was puzzled by Mr. Raby's sudden appearance. He did not look so very ill. He was able to get up and walk. How did he come to the castle? I did not think it possible that a carriage could arrive, and I know nothing about it. Then how had a grand gentleman come to see my aunt, and I had heard no word of his coming, and no sound of wheels or horses. Then the strange region in which I had seen such wonders! Was it fairyland? That puzzled me more than anything else, and I began to fancy the whole thing was nothing but an invention of my own. The vision grew fainter and fainter, and I fell asleep.

CHAPTER VI.

A NEW FRIEND.

WHEN I awoke the next morning, my aunt was moving about softly, as usual, completing her ordinary toilette. It was a very different costume from the one I had seen, or dreamed I had seen, her wear on the previous evening. The plain white morning gown, and the lace cap tied beneath the chin, the apron of black silk, these were common-place adorn