between the hot ball-room and the cold entrancehall. She was equally touched by his thoughtfulness and her own negligence. She ran out, and was just in time to see the bare grey head bowing adieux to a last carriageful of county beauty and fashion. Eagerly she drew him from the open door, mingling reproaches with compliments to his gallantry, which the old gentleman received with great complacency.

They all four gathered in a group in the deserted ball-room, for a brief, desultory chat, much interspersed by ejaculations of weariness from Vaughan. Then they separated; Mr Farquhar adding to his good-night to Caroline a reminder of the promised excursion for to-morrow.

"Oh, you may rest quite easy, my friend," interposed Vaughan; "I won't suffer her to forget.”

Mr Hesketh and the two young men watched Caroline trip lightly up the stairs.

“You don't seem much overwhelmed with fatigue,” Vaughan cried after her.

“No, indeed!” She turned round at the landing, and waved her hand gaily, with the sunniest

smile in the world. "I am quite ready to begin the evening all over again."

They all three smiled-very different smiles. Then she disappeared, and so the birth-day féte

was over.

Chapter iv.

MR HESKETH did not appear down-stairs the next morning. He had caught cold, it seemed, and was now paying the penalty for his chivalric politeness of the night before.

So Caroline announced at the breakfast-table, at which she took her usual place only a little after the usual time. It was a lovely morning, after the previous day's rain. The most gracious sunshine was making all things radiant out-of-doors; the softest clouds were wafted gently athwart the sky by a western breeze that just stirred the pinetops, and caused the silver birch to wave her graceful tresses. All the flowers glowed with redoubled brilliancy of colour; a spirit of cheerfulness seemed abroad.

Caroline looked out on the garden from the low study-window, and smiled to herself delightedly.

“Oh, Vaughan, what a day for Crooksforth! The air is so soft, and the sunshine so pleasant! This sort of day makes me feel as if I could fly!"

“Well, you'll find wings very convenient in mounting Crooksforth," observed Vaughan, who had entered the room with his hand full of letters, just arrived by the morning's post. "Three for my uncle, one for you, George, two for me, andyes, this one is to Miss Maturin. Carry, surely I know that writing?" He deliberately examined the direction before giving her her letter. "It is, isn't it, from Miss Kendal? "

"Yes," said she, taking it.

She turned away to read it. It was a long letter, apparently, and took more time to peruse than either Vaughan's or his friend's correspondence. The former, having tossed his letters aside, with muttered exclamations at their insipidity, strode to the distant window whither Caroline had betaken herself.

"We're waiting for our coffee," he intimated. She rose at once, crushed the letter into her pocket, and resumed her place at the urn. Vaughan

seated himself close beside her, and the length of the table almost estranged them from Mr Farquhar, who sat at the further end. Breakfast commenced. Vaughan trifled with his spoon, and made intensely earnest efforts to balance it on the edge of his cup. "Have you read your letter all through?" at

last he said.

"Yes. It is not a long one."

A pause; during which the gentleman rapidly cut slices of ham, and distributed the same to his friend and himself.

"I was not aware you corresponded with Miss Kendal," he resumed, in a low tone. "(Carry, won't you have some ham?) Is it of long standing the correspondence, I mean?"

66

No, thank you. Miss Kendal has written to

me several times since she left Redwood."

"And you to her?"

"Once or twice. Oh, Vaughan, it is not cour

teous of you to go on talking like this!"