'Why, Nelly, where is Raymond?' inquired Mrs. Wardlaw, when the girl, an hour afterwards, returned to the hotel. Is it possible he missed you?'

No; I saw him,' said she.

'But he was to return and dine with us!' Then, with a change of voice, which showed that she had guessed the truth, 'Oh, Nelly, have you sent him away for ever?'

Her white pained face was answer enough.

'I am very, very sorry, Nelly darling. Have you counted the cost? Are you quite sure of yourself, my pet?'

'Quite sure, dear friend. I pray you never speak of it to me again.' She was quite sure, and if she had not counted the cost, it was because it was incalculable: but the subject was one she henceforth shrank from even in thought.

CHAPTER IX.

NEWS FROM CHINA.

She no

FROM the day on which Raymond came and went so suddenly there fell a change on Nelly, and, as it seemed, for the better. longer affected her own company, or sought seclusion; her manner was cheerful, though a close observer might have thought it studiously so; she rather encouraged than otherwise her hostess's little expeditions of pleasure. One day, when Mr. Wardlaw was with them, she said, 'Suppose we dine at the table d'hôte?'

6

This unexpected suggestion was received with rapture. Mrs. Wardlaw was one of those persons who delight in dining in public; it was to her an innocent method of seeing life,' and she flattered herself that it expanded her mind. Her husband thought it a decidedly preferable notion to that of dining in their own room-which, however, for their guest's sake, he would have continued to do quite contentedly. His habits were eminently social, and heretofore he had only indulged himself with a nightly pipe in the public billiard-room.

The table d'hôte at the hotel was a new institution, but it was said to work well; which was the least that could be expected of it, since it certainly worked ill for those who took their meals in private. The staff of waiters was limited, and while the public

dinner was in progress, attendance' was difficult to procure elsewhere; while if you dined afterwards you got the warmed-up soup, the réchauffé cutlets, and the 'leavings' generally of the common table. The newly married couples who shrank from the public eye had doubtless consolations of their own for this neglect and ill-treatment, but Mr. and Mrs. Wardlaw were by no means a newly married couple, and liked their food hot and at first hand; so Nelly's proposition was eminently agreeable to them.

The seats of honour-that is, those at the head of the table— were filled as usual by the longest established guests, while the newcomers were placed by themselves at the other end. Opposite the Wardlaws' little party of three were some university men and their tutor and next to them a young couple, who were by the company at once set down as turtle doves' recently united. The bird was so common in the locality, that that view of their relation was very excusable; especially as there was no family likeness between them. The man was bronzed and dark, while the lady was fair; and the former was very attentive to the latter. Still, Mrs. Wardlaw had a doubt about their relationship to one another, and expressed it.

'You may be right, my dear; you generally are upon such matters,' was her husband's whispered reply. If they are man and wife, it is certain the wedding must have been very recent; for the lady is so civil to him.'

When they returned to their sitting-room, Nelly was asked her opinion on the matter.

I did not observe them very particularly,' said she.

'Her attention was absorbed by the Oxford gentlemen,' observed Mr. Wardlaw wickedly.

'In that case, I am sure that it was reciprocal,' answered his wife, carrying on this little joke; even the tutor was smitten; I heard him sigh over his apple dumpling. But none of those

young men was to be compared with the personage we are discussing.'

'Do you mean the gentleman or the lady?'

Α

'What nonsense, John! of course I mean the gentleman. more washed-out uninteresting-looking creature than the woman I never beheld.'

Mr. Wardlaw laughed and rattled the silver in his pockets. 'Now, do you know what he's thinking, Nelly?' continued her hostess; that no woman can ever admire another woman. To punish him, let us send him off to make inquiries; and don't you come back, sir, till you discover what relation exists between those two people. You will find the man in the billiard-room, of course, in any case-unless he is much better than most husbands.'

In an hour or so Mr. Wardlaw came back, looking unusually grave.

"They are brother and sister,' was his report. 'Did you ever hear of the name of Milburn, Nelly?'

'Never, Mr. Wardlaw.'

'Well, he has heard of yours. He has just come from China, it seems.'

"What? Did he know poor papa?' asked Nelly, flushing.

'Oh yes; he was in the same regiment. He seemed very much interested when I told him who you were; and I said, I thought you might wish to talk to him.'

"Yes, indeed, I should like to do so.'

'In that case he will pay a visit to us to-morrow morning; so that's settled.'

When Nelly had retired to her room, considerably excited by this incident, her host and hostess had a little further talk about

it.

'Well, John, and what do you think of this Mr. Milburn?'

'Oh, he seems a nice young fellow enough. He has come home, it appears, upon urgent private affairs, his uncle having died. and made him his heir.'

'Dear me! then he has money?'

'Lot's of it: so much that he has been obliged to ask his sister to help him spend it. That was the woman we saw at dinner. There are the foundations, my dear, and now you can set to work and build your edifice.'

To this sarcastic observation Mrs. Wardlaw made no reply at the moment, but buried herself in the Saturday Review,' from whose columns, after half an hour or so, she emerged, with the vague remark, Well, it seems to me it would be the best for her, poor darling;' and lighting her flat candle, marched up to bed.

6

In the forenoon of the next day Mr. Henry Milburn paid a formal call, nominally on Mrs. Wardlaw, but in reality on Nelly herself, her hostess of course being present. He was not quite the same young fellow-to look at—as we knew him in China, because his English tailor had turned him out in the height of the summer fashion. The 'puggaree,' and the open shirt-front, and the linen clothes had vanished; but his manly air and handsome face, from which the 'tan' had only just begun to fade, were as attractive as ever. His manner, naturally so frank, was a little constrained, and at the same time touched with tenderness; for he felt for the poor orphan