THE continental journey—that is to say, across France to Marseilles -was satisfactorily accomplished by our little party, and the sea voyage from thence to Naples, landing at Genoa, and visiting Leghorn and Pisa, occupied six or seven days. Gwendoline's active energy of spirit made her a delightful chef de voyage; all difficulties and disagreeables under her clever, cheerful auspices became manageable and smooth.

She arranged and organized every thing. Mr. Fielden, except for the prestige of authority his masculine presence gave, found himself but a comparatively humble and insignificant instrument in her hands, but was only too proud and happy to be in close attendance on her bright intelligence, and submit his lordly inaptitude to her sovereign will.

Upon poor Mrs. Fielden, the novelty and excitement of her position acted in the most salutary manner, tending to disperse almost entirely every morbid impression, and give new tone and vigor to her mind. Gwendoline was once more the guardian angel-the great and good magician scattering nothing but beneficence and happiness in her path, on whom she leaned and looked to, all confidingly, without blending suspicious fear or jealous doubt with her admiring love.

And Gwendoline was far from unparticipating in the elation of her companions. If Mrs. Fielden, with her worn and enfeebled powers of mind and body, was so happily affected by surrounding influences,

what was one in the full perfection of flesh and blood vitality, as well as spiritual energy, likely to be?

Not one of their fellow-voyagers, who watched with admiring interest and curiosity, that fair, fine young woman, radiant with health and animation, the life, and the spirit, and right hand of those about her, where active aid was required-her handsome looks and innate refinement giving a grace to ways and actions which, in others less gifted, might have appeared in another light-enjoying every thing undisguisedly and naturally, even in the most unheroine-like and unromantic fashion of the cabin or the table d'hôte fare, would have suspected a secret history hung over her, or attached the existence of any present romantic passion to her idea.

And perhaps Gwendoline was pleased, reassured and surprised, at feeling as she did, at finding that she was still capable of such a healthful, independent sense of happiness. It was, after all, but the constraint and sameness of her Seacombe life, that had begun to undermine her mental health and selfsufficiency. sufficiency. She had thrown it all off now that sickly woman's dream, and would be able to hold forth unshrinkingly the hand of purely friendly interest alike to man or woman, and look calmly in the eyes of even Edgar Campbell if they met again.

If they met again! Can the heart's instincts be deceived? did she really not suspect the glad bounding of her whole nature to be

in a measure influenced by such probable contingencies, the possibility even of such a doubtful issue? They were going to Naples, from whence, in June, Mr. Gibson, it is true, had written, but would he have remained there ever since? No; she persuaded herself that she had fully decided in her own mind that this was impossible, and that by this time the clergyman had removed himself and his party out of their track.

But Edgar Campbell and the Gibsons were nevertheless again at Naples, when the other English travellers arrived; they had been to Sicily, and had returned in August, solely to gratify Edith's wish to see bella Napoli, when the vineyards were in bearing.

Mr. Fielden soon discovered this, and delayed not long in calling on Edgar Campbell and the Gibsons, at the apartments they occupied, and thus making their own arrival known-a natural proceeding which Gwendoline had no ostensible excuse for interfering with, whatever inward consciousness might have moved her to do.

Yet why should she shrink from the meeting, which must now inevitably come, and which Edgar had probably schooled his feelings by this time to brook with composure, if not indifference. Shrink, indeed! was there not something of light and gladness, connected with the idea which she vainly attributed to the enchanting influences of the clime and scenery of Naples itself? Certainly not to the now certain expectation of once more beholding in it the bright, animated face, the dark, expressive eyes which had last dwelt on her so appealingly.

The meeting took place at last under the most favorable circumstances, in the gardens of Villa Reale Mr. Gibson having invited Mr. Fielden, in his morning call, to

| bring his ladies there to join their party in the cool of the evening, to witness the gay, national festivities which were then enacting at Naples in celebration of some great anniversary.

Mr. Fielden had found Mr. Gibson indeed most civilly anxious to be attentive to the new-comers, especially signifying his gratitude for the kindness shown by them at Seacombe to his stepson. "The daughter, too," Mr. Fielden said, in answer to Mrs. Fielden's inquiry, "seemed a lady-like, nice-mannered girl, sickly-looking, rather, but pretty enough to be interesting." "And Mr. Campbell ?"

'Oh, he," Mr. Fielden answered, with some cautious reserve, "did not come in until just before I was leaving. He looked very well, and seemed very glad to see me, but we had not time for much conversation."

"He asked after you," he added afterwards to his wife, when they were alone together, "but not after Miss Lawson."

"That was rather singular," said Mrs. Fielden; "but perhaps it only looked the more particular. I hope he may not have fallen in love since with this Miss Gibson, as you say she is interesting."

"Why, hope?-the best thing he could do, perhaps," retorted her | husband, rather savagely. “But I don't think there's much chance of his having done that," he thought to himself; "that pale-faced little daisy !" as Gwendoline re-entered, in her full, bright, healthful majesty and womanhood.

But to Gwendoline, Mrs. Fielden's idea had probably never yet suggested itself. It was not till the first meeting was over-got over in that outwardly unnoticeable manner in which the most inwardly thrilling or embarrassing ordeals of that kind are quickly accomplished, when

Edgar Campbell had stepped forward, and, as he would have done to any other former acquaintance, offered his hand, when her introduction to Mr. Gibson and his daughter had been completed, and those two had had their questions ocularly, at least, satisfied, as to who was this Miss Lawson-not till then did Gwendoline-standing by, talking to Mr. Gibson, who was not impervious to the attractions of the Fieldens' handsome friend, and had taken her under his charge -begin to feel some pang, fiercer than any her breast had yet experienced, to see Edgar and the daughter, as if by common consent, constantly together, he, looking and speaking to her so gently and kindly, when he turned from Mrs. Fielden, who leaned on his other arm, and she, quite pretty enough, as Mr. Fielden had inferred, to be interesting, kindling into animation and pleasure by his side. Not even the novel and beautiful effect of the rural assemblage in those picturesque gardens, in their gay, often highlyornamental costumes, singing the lively comic songs, or dancing the tarantella, could sufficiently divert her thoughts from this source of distraction.

They all went back to the Gibsons' apartments at night—a severer and closer ordeal for her still!-for she found the cold and distant mien and painfully-forced endeavor to repress any thing but a cold, quiet distance, intended to put aside all past associations, more difficult to bear than she had anticipated-creating a restless ferment in her mind, which brought the hot blood in impatient flushes to her cheeks, irritating, almost maddening her.

She ascribed her discomposurenot quite to be hid-to the effect of this first experience of a Neapol

itan summer on her northern blood; for even in the cool balcony, whither Mr. Gibson invited her, amidst the shade and fragrance of orange-trees, with the balmiest of breezes-from the placid bay, sleeping calmly in the moonlight-blowing on her, she felt scarcely refreshed. It might have been better if she had been left alone; but Mr. Gibson had politely accompanied her. The Fieldens also gladly followed her example; whilst Edith, no less attracted than the generality of people by their handsome stranger guest, came timidly, yet gladly to her side, anxious to improve their acquaintance. Only Edgar kept aloof, as different, in his grave, stern silence to the Edgar of Seacombe, so genial and impulsive, even in his poignant sorrow, as any one could conceive.

"I think we will go on to Malta at once," she said decidedly to Mrs. Fielden, on returning to their hotel; and Mr. Fielden was accordingly sent, in the morning, to make inquiries, and form arrangements as to the steamer; he protesting rather strongly against leaving Naples so speedily; indeed, he either made or found such difficulty as to their immediate passage, that Gwendoline finally consented to stay on a week. But she determined she would not suffer herself to be made uncomfortable by a repetition of the previous day's state of things. She would be on terms of clear and open-hearted friendliness with Edgar, if nothing else. So after a day spent in visiting some of the churches and chapels and revelling in scenes and sights of interest and beauty, sufficient to have chased, it might be imagined, all disturbing influences from the mind, she desperately sought, and found the convenient opportunity to speak to him, thus:

entertain the idea. Yet what could it all mean, that lawyer's statement? might he, could he love her still? He made every effort next day to gain some opportunity for obtaining

but Gwendoline had already blamed herself for the womanly impetuosity which had carried her so far, for she yet stood in a false position-and how was it all to end?

SATISFIED that Edgar's strong affection for her had been only stifled, not destroyed, Gwendoline's wish again was to restrain the evidences of that love. Edith Gibson, too, now that jealous fear on her account was disarmed, began to excite her interest and pity. It was impossible not to perceive that the girl loved her father's stepson with more than sisterly affection; never sister's cheek flushed so fitfully as hers did when he approached or addressed her in his gentle brotherly fashion.

"And her eye on all his movements

with a mute observance hung."

And he so unconscious of it! It ought not to go on. Especially did Gwendoline remark those symptoms become more evident since Edgar's more than common admiration for herself had been again irrepressibly manifest; so much so, that even Mr. Gibson betrayed some slight uneasiness, and attempted indirectly to obtain some knowledge from Mr. Fielden and his wife, as to the previous terms of association between Miss Lawson and his stepson, his -uneasiness being not much unallayed by what Mr. Fielden, with an awkward attempt at caution, let out.

That a young man of quick feelings like Edgar, could have lived for more than a month so closely and intimately associated with a

young woman of Miss Lawson's powerful attractions, at a time, too, and in a state of feeling when feminine comfort and sympathy would have only been more irresistible, the sensible clergyman feared was scarcely possible; nor did he lay much weight on what both Mr. and Mrs. Fielden hinted to him, as to Gwendoline's systematic protest against love as concerned herself. Mr. Gibson did not believe in any such anomalies. The lawyer's daughter-niece he should have said-was not such a fool as that; indeed from what he had observed that first evening he saw them together, he had been led to suspect, that on her side, though not on Edgar's, the views entertained did not appear to be at all obscure. Since then he had seen reason to change his mind on that latter point; the understanding between the two, if there existed any, he believed was mutual, and that Edgar had kept such silence with regard to this Miss Lawson, and avoided their inquiries concerning her when her name first was mentioned in Mr. Fielden's letter, now only struck him as the more suspicious.

Yet he by no means relaxed his civilities to the Fielden party. He was an easy-minded man, and if his fatherly schemes were to be disappointed, and Edgar to be led away