Mrs. Conway did not seem to hear her; her eyes were riveted upon Raymond's face, but her thoughts were far away.

'Why does he not come here?' inquired she presently in sharp, incisive tones. Why does he keep in hiding?'

6

My father is greatly exhausted with his journey, and, as I have told you, very unwell. He did not feel equal, just at present, to converse with you on so sad a subject.'

Not equal? Bah! he had not courage enough.'

There was another painful pause.

6

Perhaps,' said Nelly hesitatingly, there may be a letter, or something, in dear papa's travelling desk; I know he took it with him wherever it was possible.'

She looked inquiringly at Raymond, so that he was obliged to speak.

'Indeed, dear Nelly, I am afraid there was nothing of the kind. My father made search everywhere, as it was his duty to do, in case there should be a will.'

'We are beggars, of course,' observed Mrs. Conway calmly.

'No, indeed, madam,' began Raymond; and he was about at once to mention his father's offer, when Nelly restrained him. She was right, he felt; it was a most inopportune time to speak to Mrs. Conway upon such a subject.

'We are not beggars, mamma, unless we beg,' said Nelly quietly; and there is no need to beg.'

'It is as well to beg as to slave oneself to death as you are doing,' replied Mrs. Conway bitterly. Then she burst into tears and began to rock herself to and fro upon her chair, quite regardless and perhaps unconscious of the presence of her visitor.

'Go, Raymond, go,' whispered Nelly; and the young man rose

with the intention of withdrawing at once without exciting the widow's observation. He was distressed and shocked to an extreme degree, not only at the poor lady's condition, but at the words she had spoken to her daughter, which confirmed his worst suspicions as to the efforts she was making to maintain the little. household. It was painful to him that Nelly should work at all for her daily bread; but that she should be overworking herself was terrible. And yet the reception that his father's proposition had met with, even thus far, and from her whom he had thought the less likely of the two to oppose herself to it, was most discouraging. In his hurry to escape he tripped in the carpet, and overturned a chair.

'What is that?' exclaimed the widow excitedly.

'Nothing, mamma: Raymond is going away.'

'Why does he not wish me good-bye?' said Mrs. Conway in her old fretful manner. And yet, why should he? Why should anyone care for an old and beggared woman?'

6

'Indeed, Mrs. Conway, you must not talk like that,' said Raymond softly. There are bright days in store for you yet, I hope.'

'Bright days! for me? No, lad, no. I might have had them once, perhaps; but that is all over now.' She murmured something to herself that sounded like the night cometh, the night cometh,' and Raymond noted for the first time how old and ill she looked. He was fond of you, Ray, when you were a child,' she continued caressingly: he was always fond of children. He had a kind heart before I turned it into stone.'

Again, at an appealing look from Nelly, the young man was about to leave the room, when the widow called him back.

'Don't send Raymond away without a good-bye, Nelly, though that is all we have to give him. He is a good lad, though of an evil stock. I mind the days when I have dandled you in my arms, boy, and striven to be to you what your mother might have been had not Heaven been kinder to her. She died ere she reached your age. I was young then myself; and Arthur-that was your father, girl-he was my lover and my husband too. Do you think I turned his heart to stone, Nelly?'

'Indeed, mamma, you did not. You cannot be conscious of your own words. He was the kindest, gentlest being to the last.' Right, right, Nelly; so he was. Not one to leave us without a word, without a line, to die without a sign of love to those belonging to him. No, no. No, no- But you are Ralph Pennicuick's son, lad. Well, well; I would not say a word to wound you. Do you mind if I kissed you, just once-an old woman like me-for the sake of old times when you cared to kiss me? The old times-the old times that were so short because I turned my Arthur's heart to stone!'

Raymond could bear the scene no longer, but, having affectionately embraced the poor lady and pressed Nelly's hand, fled from the house. If he had been alone with the widow his position would have been sufficiently distressing; but that her daughter should be present while she thus reproached herself for what might be almost termed the conduct of her life, was intolerable. What made it the more impressive was that this was the first occasion on which either he or Nelly had heard Mrs. Conway own herself in the least to blame as respected the estrangement between herself and her husband. She must have been moved indeed to have made such an admission; and the burst of affection with

which she had bidden good-bye to Raymond had been scarcely less surprising than her self-reproach.

In after days, when subsequent events had made that interview memorable, Raymond often pondered on it: how sad and strange that condemnation had sounded from the lips of the self-accused! how unexpected had been that outbreak of affection and remorse! It was as though the barrier that had shut in the poor woman's feelings for twenty years had given way beneath the pressure of her love, and laid bare her broken heart.

CHAPTER II.

A PICTURE SALE.

On the afternoon after Raymond's visit, Mr. and Mrs. Wardlaw presented themselves at the Cedars, to pay their first formal call on the widow since her bereavement: and, much to their astonishment, found her from home. She was wont to go abroad but seldom, even before her late misfortune, and rarely without being accompanied by her daughter; but on this occasion she had left the house, while Nelly was marketing' in the morning, leaving word with the little maid that she had business in London, and might not be back till late in the day. Nelly was not absolutely alarmed at her absence, but she had a sense of disquiet which made the arrival of the friendly couple a great relief to her. They endeavoured to allay her anxiety by offering a number of reasons, more or less ingenious, but all improbable, for her mother's leaving home; and though these carried no conviction with them, the very expression of their confidence that all was right, was vaguely comforting. They supplied that need of 'company' which-where the company is sympathetic-we all feel when in nervous suspense; and their conversation prevented her from dwelling upon the matter, and helped to pass the time