have himself yielded, and have brought her then and there to his arms, melted and all-forgiving.

But he had been incredulous. He had not been able to believe in such obstinacy; and even up to within the last few minutes of the interview he had not despaired. He had been absolutely unable not to hope. It had been an experience so novel, so extraordinary, that it had not been until she had turned her back upon him and had left the cave, that he had believed in his ill-fortune.

At every solitary moment there rose now before him a vision of her beautiful agonised countenance, as she bent on him the reproachful gaze which accompanied her "Oh, Rupert, did you really mean that?" in answer to the taunting words wherewith he had sought to bring her own position and its cause to her memory. With shuddering selfdisgust he recalled that cruel "you," and the quickness with which its meaning had been apprehended. Then, he had seen the anguished shade pass over her soft young brow; and it afforded little consolation now to recollect that he had striven to repair the mischief when too late.

She had listened to no more; she had silenced himwaved him from her side; and she had preferred to face the angry elements to remaining longer in his presence. She could have chosen no surer method of riveting her image in his memory.

But love, sorrow, and repentance were now alike of none avail, since life and death-or so at least all believed--were trembling in the scales; and aware, as Evelyn alone was, of all that had preceded and been the cause of the unhappy girl's illness, he could not but acquiesce with readiness in the restrictions imposed by the doctor and nurse; and not merely this, but also mentally add to them others, the necessity for which he only could perceive.

He forbade all who were in attendance on the sick-bed to question the patient as to anything connected with her seizure, giving for the prohibition such reasons as amply satisfied the Comlines; and further, aware that his remaining in the neighbourhood would in itself be an agitation and disturbing reflection, should the knowledge of his having done so come to her ears, he departed of his own free will.

A few enigmatical sentences, a momentary emotion at the last, he was betrayed into; but on the whole he went through the ordeal bravely, and got off unsuspected, in the exchange

of cheery farewells and hopes of future meetings; and it was not until he passed on his way the lonely house by the roadside, within whose walls poor Kate still lay feeble and forlorn, that he pulled his cap over his eyes.

CHAPTER XIV.

A CONFESSION, AND A COMFORTER.

"Now I feel I can love but one, and that one has deserted me.'
"Bide a bit."-Scotch Proverb.

-MELMOTH.

If, previous to his departure, any fears had been entertained by Evelyn lest one of the other Miss Newbattles, or even Lady Olivia herself, might have been sufficiently alarmed by the communication received from the guardians of the disgraced daughter and sister, as to hasten to the Muirland Farm in person, these were needless.

To be sure, they were all concerned about Kate,—as much concerned as they could be expected to be about a member of the family who was always in trouble one way or another, and who really might have managed to keep out of mischief, in a place where she could see nobody and go nowhere.

It appeared as if she never would learn sense. And the Comlines too, to whom she had been entrusted-how tiresome of them not to stop her pursuing those wild ways which Alice had pronounced to be so unladylike, and from which Lady Olivia had done her best to turn her refractory young charge. The idea of letting a delicate girl take long rough walks in such weather! Any one could have foreseen what the end would be-no constitution could stand it.

They were very sorry, of course. It was poor Kate's own fault,—but still they were very sorry. Lady Olivia sharply taxed her eldest step-daughter with want of feeling when the usual singing-lesson was gone through with Mademoiselle on the morning after the news came; while Alice and Bertha, in their turn, sneered at the prodigious correspondence which issued from the boudoir. They said to each other that they knew what that meant. Any one could have told, that just

at this time of year, when nothing was going on worth recording at home, and when no news was stirring abroad, an event so thrilling as the sudden and dangerous illness of one of her dear Mr Newbattle's dear daughters was a perfect godsend to Lady Olivia.

Full particulars of her anxiety and distress were given, no doubt, in every perfumed sheet; and they smiled to each other as they caught the trail of her eloquent pen in the effusive utterances which were for Mademoiselle's benefit at luncheon, and in Mrs Popham's cross-examination of the next person she met after their step-mother had left. Mrs Popham clearly wished to know how much to weed out, and what might hold good, of the communications received from headquarters. Everybody liked to stand well with Mrs Popham, who was a great woman in her way,-great enough to take under her protection the black sheep of any fold. In utter disregard of Lady Olivia's dislike to the subject, she had sturdily inquired after Kate on every opportunity after Kate's dismissal, and had not failed after a time to add to her "And how is my friend Kate?" the "And when is she coming back?" which should, if possible, shame them into sending for her.

Now all was smooth again in that quarter; and Mrs Popham, who had been rather shunned of late, was told the whole truth-that is to say, Lady Olivia's whole truth. It should not be concealed longer, she said, from such an old and valued friend of the family, that the poor dear absentee had been for some little time in an anxious state of health,not ill, not even ailing, but still not herself. To this, there was not the smallest doubt, was attributable that irritation of the nervous system from which they had all suffered at Carnochan. They had suffered, every one of them; and in order to effect a diversion, and see what a change of air and scene would do,-together with a little bread and water of affliction, she mentally added, they had sent dear Kate, as Mrs Popham knew, to the seaside. No one could understand the poor child's terrible temper: so uncertain, so peculiar as it had been,-Mrs Popham might perhaps have heard hints, since such things do come round through servants and tradespeople; so she thought that now,-now when the whole was comprehensible, when Kate had broken down altogether, -it was only right to say a word.

Sea-air and quiet had been, as they believed, doing their

full amount of good, her step-daughter had been with the children's nursery governess, the one they had before Mademoiselle Pierrepoint, a most wonderfully kind and attentive person, quite homely, but so trustworthy and dependable,― and they had had such nice letters of late, so much happier and brighter, that they had been looking forward to receiving the dear child back at home almost immediately—when all at once came the sad intelligence.

It was most disappointing, most heartrending.

Their dear mother had, as Mrs Popham knew, been a great sufferer, and some delicacy of constitution, she feared, it seemed to be only too probable, her daughters had inherited; but of course—and a great point was made of this -Mrs Popham would consider the whole communication strictly confidential, for herself alone.

(It would be ruin to have it get abroad that they were a sickly set, thought Lady Olivia.)

She felt, and with reason, that her auditor was to be relied upon. Mrs Popham was well aware that she must accept such golden truths as Lady Olivia chose to communicate, tempered with alloy, and that the beaten track of fact would be left at every turn, for side paths of sentiment; but she accepted what she could get, heard without a smile of Mr Newbattle's pangs, and let pass without a sarcasm Lady Olivia's own.

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"There she goes to her Mrs Popham again," exclaimed Alice one day, as she and Bertha watched the carriage roll off Pophamwards for the third time that week. "Mrs Popham must think her mad. The way Lady Olivia monopolises our friend is really absurd. Sits up beside her, and speaks to no one else, whenever Mrs Popham comes here; and drives away there by herself whenever she gets the chance. Kate's illness has been a piece of luck to her: she was not in Mrs Popham's good books lately, I am sure, Bertha, I suspect about this very affair of Kate,-so now she is putting all straight. She has gone to talk of the 'poor sufferer,' and the 'poor lonely one,' you know; she will make out that Kate has been in danger of breaking blood-vessels all her life! Bertha, did you see how she appropriated that letter this morning, and fussed over itbegging whoever was reading it to return it, as soon as done with, to her, Miss Comline's letter, I mean? That was because it is to be shown all round,-to Mrs Popham first,

then to the Maclures, and so on, round the neighbourhood. Even Mr Maxwell, whom she is not over civil to at other times, will be favoured with a view. Oh, our dear stepmother's prestige will not suffer by the affair, you may depend upon it."

"A very nice account," pronounced Mrs Popham, to whom, as divined, was submitted the primary perusal; "and it must be a comfort to you all to know that the invalid is in such excellent quarters. I suppose by this time you would be permitted to see her?"

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'My dear Mrs Popham, I should not think of asking it! I know too well. Absolute quiet is as essential after an attack of this nature as the most skilful treatment. Mr Newbattle says he would not have her disturbed for the world." "Not even by Alice?"

Alice had been over at Dunness the day before, and had confided in her dear Mrs Popham that she was most anxious to go, but could not obtain permission.

Alice would really have liked the job.

If the sick girl would have turned to her at this time, depended on her, refused all other attendance, and begged to have her pillows smoothed by no other hand, Alice would have done her part well, and enjoyed the position.

But Kate, who had never seen in her sister anything to inspire such tenderness as could alone have justified her in making such a stipulation, so far from desiring the presence of any of her own family, seemed, in her weak and nerveless condition, to be more afraid of their proposing to come to her than of anything else they could have suggested.

Accordingly, the message which Alice had half expected never came; and although she averred to Mrs Popham that want of her father's consent alone prevented her setting forth, she took but scanty measures to obtain it.

Kate was left in peace.

She clung to the motherly dame, who seldom left the sickchamber, with the dependence of a helpless babe," amaist fule-like," said the much-affected Mr Comline, with the tears in his eyes there was no indifference, no self-absorption now; and as soon as sufficient strength returned to enable her to become aware of the demands her state made on the time, care, and watchfulness of one and all, it was appreciated so earnestly and deeply, that all former arrears were well repaid in the outburst of her gratitude.