read her Bible, nor been brought to say my prayers beside her knee. I have known some Christian mothers since, and when I was in the house with them-some of our officers' wives they were-it used to make me feel-I can't tell you what I felt-all was so different. My poor mother had only cared to see me finely dressed, and able to hold up my head and answer back when I was spoken to, and that I should make friends with boys, noblemen's sons, and—but you understand what I mean. She had never given my character or principles a thought. I declare, Kate, the only wonder is that I did not grow up worse than I did! However, I was bad enough; and I don't say it to reproach her, God knows, but only that you, who were the first person I had ever known who, to my knowledge, acted in my presence according to the dictates of your conscience, in opposition to your will, may see how strange and new such a thing was to me. I could not at all comprehend it at first; and though I afterwards woke to a sensation of reverence, longing, selfabasement-in short, though love was kindled then and there, I still only thought of you as a splendid visionary, counterbalancing the angelic enthusiasm by which you were at times possessed, by being very mortal indeed at others. In which phase to love you best, I knew not; probably the one would have been incomplete without the other. However, it was not till afterwards, till I fell in with other people, -men like myself, young and hearty, not likely to be victimised by morbid fancies, or carried away by sentiment, yet living the life I felt you knew of,-that I ever thought such a life could be a real and practical one. Evidently, they found it so; and they were some of the first men in our regiment. When we had to go to the front they were just the same as the rest of us, cheerful, sensible, rather enjoying it, you know,-well, it's a fact; you can't help enjoying it, Kate, and they made no long mouths, nor anything disagreeable. There was nothing extra put on the occasion; they were just as they always were; and somehow, I got to going with them more and more, and never after lost sight of the truths I learnt then. But you were the first, dear; to you, my darling, I owe all happiness, for this world, and for the next."

If Kate had been blest before, words cannot paint her emotions at the close of this nocturnal conference.

True, she had all along-that is, from the date of Evelyn's return to England-noted that his habits and modes of expression were not such as could spring from any other source than that of all good, the discovery had been one to cause her many a tear of thankfulness, but to hear such a change -and change it was-ascribed to her,―to learn that in that past hour, when her own need had been the sorest, and her own repentance that of the returning prodigal, she had unconsciously stretched out her hand to save another soul, and that soul the one beloved of all on earth,-oh, it was too much!

Her cup had been full; it now ran over.

It seemed as though she had not needed more--as though she could not contain more; and yet the Hand that was raining down riches from above, could not stint itself.

Sleep was not to be thought of.

All the other occupants of the little cabin were slumbering when, at length, the laggard stole softly in, and she smiled to herself at her stealthy tread and cautious movements; but, although some turned and raised their heads, she succeeded in lying down without disturbance, and passing the few hours that elapsed before bustle again began on board, in such a delirium of bliss as may perhaps be imagined.

Rest it could hardly be called; not for a moment could she close her eyes, or at least sink into unconsciousness but what did it matter? It would be all rest hereafter. Trials and troubles might come-so she told herself (but trials and troubles were at a very low computation at the moment)—nothing could tear up her great tree by the roots

again.

Rupert hers, and owing all to her! Henceforth they were

to be not only one in heart, but in soul, in spirit ;-surely if ever a happy girl might be pardoned for seeing the future shadowless, and the present perfect, and also for lying awake talking nonsense to herself, when she ought to have been recruiting her strength after such a series of harrowing events as she had undergone that day,-it was the newlybetrothed Kate Newbattle.

Marjorie came up on deck next morning, rosy and renovated, after an excellent night's repose; but she was disgusted anew at the careless "Good morning, Madge," with which Rupert passed her by, and hurried forward to ask Kate how she did?

Whatever might be his intentions, he had no business to behave like that, nor to turn his back both on his mother and herself, while he shawled up her sister so earnestly. As if they did not all alike need a wrap in the chill atmosphere of the early morning.

"You must not take cold; recollect that the sun has not warmed the air yet," Rupert was saying, as he fastened the brooch-pin; but it did not seem to occur to him that the air had not been warmed for other people either.

Lady Olivia was really shivering, and her unnatural son needed to have the fact brought under his notice. She had found the cabin too hot, but she almost repented having left it, and only his proposal himself to make and to bring her a cup of coffee, restored her equanimity. She liked his coffee, he knew, he had learned the art of making it in the East, -and every one brightened up at the proposal.

He now cheerfully suggested that he should purvey for the party; but even as he did so, Marjorie fancied a sinister meaning in the "You will be the better of it," which was spoken as he was arranging his overcoat around his sister's feet.

He was very tiresome; and as for Kate, she was still more ridiculous. Her foolish face was suffused with a perfectly unintelligible glow; and although she had been so "overdone" the evening before, and had sat up to any hour of the night after it, her cheeks were quite pink, and her eyes bright. What was there to make Rupert solicitous in that? It seemed to her that there was very little occasion for all his shawls and his questions; and she felt as if she must say something disagreeable, or die for it, when Kate, instead of answering readily that she was quite well, and putting an end to the

whole thing, merely smiled without a word, and permitted him to fuss over her as if she liked it.

"I did not know we had an invalid on board," observed Miss Marjorie, disdainfully. "And, upon my word, I have always heard that it was the night air, not the morning air, that gave people cold. But Kate seems to think otherwise."

Poor Marjorie! She had some excuse for being ill-tempered. She did not understand, you see, the length to which matters had gone; and it may as well be said here at once, that when she did, she behaved much better; but ignorant as she was during the journey, feeling herself of no account to anybody, without being made the recipient of any justifiable secret for such neglect, it is hardly to be wondered at that she did not like it.

Evelyn's smile at her little feu nearly upset her altogether. It said so plainly-"Very true; you have hit the mark. We had a jolly time, I admit. And you are quite right in supposing that Kate has a high opinion of night air, —so have I."

He remembered to put no sugar in Kate's coffee, and sweetened her sister's till it nearly sickened her, though both had an equal distaste for it. He was imperative about the bread-and-butter on one plate alone, though Marjorie could have eaten more than she got. He brought Kate a chair on which to lean,—and seated himself upon

it.

Every minute his conduct provoked fresh comparisons; and pervading all, there was an air of protection and possession, which was even more annihilating than the anxious looks of the previous evening.

In short, Evelyn was reckless, and did not mind what he did, or what people thought.

He had not achieved much more than Kate had in the way of repose, but such a loss was nothing to him. He was going down in triumph to the home of his beloved; he had won his cause, which he had only, at most, hoped there to plead; and he could snap his fingers at all circumspection. But for Lady Olivia, Marjorie would have been told at once what had happened, but it was deemed advisable by both that Lady Olivia should receive the information during some quiet hour; and accordingly, they would not slight her by giving her step-daughter any advantage.

Nor, indeed, did either feel that Marjorie had deserved

it. She might very well wait a day or two; she had shown no sympathy, exhibited no sisterly affection; she had not even evinced common kindness when it was plain that Kate was in trouble; and Kate must now confess, in her own heart, that she never received from the child whom she had once so fondly cherished, anything but disappointment. This was nothing new; she had long ceased to expect much from Marjorie, and had grown by degrees to be too well accustomed to her selfishness and waywardness, to let their manifestation in the present instance interfere with her hour of joy.

Indeed it may be doubted whether she noticed anything amiss.

The green shades of St Mary's Isle, which called forth the admiration of the party as the little vessel steamed into harbour, were welcome, as betokening an end to the sail, to only two out of the four; but ere the long drive to Carnochan was accomplished, Evelyn had learned to watch impatiently for every passing mile-stone.

He had had to take his place, as ill-luck would have it, opposite Lady Olivia, and was thus reduced to a feast of memory and imagination, which, richly as it might have sated at another hour, was now but poor compensation for the loss of present smiles and glances. Silently he sat back in his corner during the weary jogging over hill and dale, which seemed to own no prospect of termination; and Marjorie's refusal to get out and walk with him up the steep ascents, cut off even the chance of his opening the wrong door, and thus forcing her to change seats as they re-entered the carriage.

That would have improved matters; as it was, he had no satisfaction.

Carnochan reached, however, all was well again. eye brightened, but it fell upon another eye and cheek whose feverish brilliancy he could too well interpret; and although suspicion and anxiety on this account were at an end, care and affection were not. The submissive Kate was immediately under orders to breakfast in her own room, and remain there until fully rested.

Lady Olivia, indeed, recommended a like course to everybody.

The peremptory whisper met with her warm approval; for, "After our most successful journey," she pronounced,