him too." And her tears streamed over the rough coat and shaggy paws of her faithful companion.

Five minutes after that, the heavy gate had clanged between them. Guy heard it, and muttered drowsily to himself as he turned in his sleep.

Good-by, dear happy Ingleside; good-by forever," she moaned, as she turned away, and the echo in her own heart went on ceaselessly, "Forever."

CHAPTER XXXV.

A SHADOW ON THE WALL.

.

"WHERE is Miss Elliott this morning?" were Guy Chichester's words as he entered the breakfast-room.

Beatrix, who was pouring out the coffee, bent her head over the silver urn, and feigned not to hear the question, but she listened a little anxiously to Stewart's answer.

"No one has seen Miss Elliott, sir. Dorothy-that is, Phyllis-did say to Miles that her young lady must be ill or something, for she hasn't been near Miss Florence since last evening.'

Mr. Chichester made no reply; he even checked Flossie when she seemed disposed to burst into some childish confidence.

"Go on with your breakfast, Flo," he said, a little irritably, as the child looked up eagerly. Trichy, if you have done with Stewart I should like him to fetch me the 'Times' from the station. Dison has forgotten to send it." And as soon as the servant was out of hearing, he continued, in a low voice, to his cousin, "Isn't it singular, Trichy, the child will have it that Miss Elliott never went to bed at all? She declares she came to her in the middle of the night with her bonnet and cloak on, and kissed her, and said she was going away. What could have put such nonsense into the child's head, I wonder?" But, in spite of his impatient tone, Guy looked anxious and perturbed.

Beatrix changed color. "Of course she must have been dreaming, Guy. Children have such strange fancies. Most likely Miss Elliott is taking an early walk; she complained of headache when I arrived yesterday."

"She was perfectly well when I left her," returned Mr Chichester, uneasily. "Miles told me she was not at dinner last night. I hope nothing unpleasant passed between you, Trichy?" he added, with one of his searching glances. Beatrix was paler than usual-even her cousin noticed her embarrassment. The servants' comments had already reached her ears she knew from Phyllis that Miss Elliott's bed had not been slept in.

Beatrix drew herself up a little haughtily as Mr. Chichester spoke, but he did not repeat his question; during the rest of the meal he sat in thoughtful silence, and as soon as it was over he left the room and went straight to the library.

His hand was on the bell, when the gleam of something white on his writing-table attracted his eye, and he looked up eagerly it was a note in Dym's handwriting.

As he opened it and the pearl hoop dropped at his feet, his face expressed bewilderment, almost alarm; but a grave, pitiful look came into his eyes as he read and re-read the few blotted sentences, and once he sighed heavily. "Poor child! poor little wounded heart!" he muttered. "Cruel, cruel!" and then his face grew dark and stern again.

"Oh, my dear, my dear, how could you have done it?" she wrote. If I could have loved you more I must have done it, now that I know all your noble goodness. To think that

after her you could stoop to me; that you could put aside your own grief to try and comfort me, poor little humble me! Oh, my darling, forgive me if I call you that once, I never shall again-think how I must love you when I tell you I am going away without even wishing you good-by, to save you from such a sacrifice. She has told me all: it was generous, it was like you, but why, why did you think such noble selfdevotion was necessary ? You have wronged me, dear, you have indeed, but you did not mean to be cruel.

"If I had left you I should have gone on loving you all my life. I am not ashamed of owning that now: why should I be? You have always been so grand, so noble, in my eyes;

and then one day, when you were old, and Florence had left you, and you wanted me, I would have come to you and been your faithful nurse and friend, and you would have been glad to see me I know you would have been-and then this miserable mistake would not have occurred.

"But you must not be unhappy about it, or think I have acted impulsively in leaving you. I could not be your wife now, dear, could I? The very thought humbles me. Tell your mother all; she will understand and be sorry for me; and ask my darling Flossie not to fret. And now God bless you. I know He will. He will not be angry with me for leaving you so, and you must not be.

"Your faithful and loving friend,

"DYM."

Beatrix was still sitting at the deserted breakfast-table when her cousin's step sounded in the passage, and a moment after he entered.

She knew what was coming, almost before he had turned the handle of the door. Some subtle instinct warned her that he meant to overwhelm her with his reproaches. Had she gone too far? had she in her sudden madness of jealousy miscalculated this girl's influence? could it be that he loved her, after all—that it was really his desire to make her his wife? Beatrix was by no means devoid of courage, nevertheless her heart died within her when she saw his face.

"Don't, Guy! Whatever has happened, you must not blame me," she said, almost cowering away beneath that dark wrathful look. Bold as she was, how was she to confront him in his sternness? would her pride carry her through such an ordeal? "Indeed, indeed, it was not my fault," she continued, pitifully.

"Read that," was his only answer, as he took the folded paper from his breast and laid it before her. "Do not sully your lips with falsehood, Beatrix," he continued, with a slight accent of scorn. "I know exactly what passed between you, as though I had heard your every word. Oh, Trichy, Trichy,' his voice breaking with sudden emotion, "I could almost find it in my heart to hate you for this, that of all peoyou-you, ple, should have wrought me this deadly wrong.' "I did not say much-I did not, indeed, Guy," she re

turned, humbly. His anger was dreadful to her. Would she not have died to win one word of love from his lips? and now he was filling her cup to the bitter brim with his righteous scorn. "It was only a word I let fall by accident; she provoked me, she often does, Guy-indeed, you do not know Miss Elliott as well as I do. You must not be angry because I think she is not worthy of you: she has deceived you, as she has deceived others, with her artful ways."

"Take care, Beatrix," he interrupted, menacingly. His eyes flashed, and it was only by a strong effort that he controlled himself. "Take care," he repeated, more quietly: you are speaking of my future wife. Another such word as that, and I shall be constrained to bid you see my face no

66

more.

"Your wife!" gasped Beatrix, and some deadly suppression of feeling turned her lips white. "But she has gone-Miss Elliott has gone.'

"You have driven her away for a little space," he replied, in the same hard voice; "but I am still bound to her; whenever she will she may come back, and find her place ready for her, for I swear no other woman shall be my wife."

แ

"Guy! Guy!" But Beatrix's agonized exclamation was unheeded; he had turned away from her with that terrible look still on his face, and in another moment she was alone.

Before the next hour had elapsed, Humphrey Nethecote had been summoned to the squire's library, and for a long time the two men were closeted together.

"You may telegraph your success. If I do not hear before to-morrow night, I shall follow you," were the squire's parting words. "Be prudent; do nothing to compromise her or me, and, above all, do not let her suspect that her movements are watched.

"Let me only know she is safe that must do for the present. We must leave her free, Humphrey. The mischief is done, and cannot be undone without time and patience."

Oh, oh, plenty of that needed for a snarl of the devil's making. Take my advice, squire, and get rid of that woman; she was never to my mind, nor to poor Honor's either."

"I must leave that to my mother," returned Guy, with a touch of haughtiness. "I am going up to her room now. Poor dear! she will fret more than any of us. Promise to

be wary, Humphrey, for both our sakes," he continued, wringing Humphrey's hand; and then he went slowly and heavily back into his own room.

Humphrey gave a queer little satisfied grunt, when he was left alone, which accorded strangely with the perplexed look of pain his face had hitherto worn.

"It is an ill gait, but it may end better than we thought,' he muttered, as he descended the hill; "that is, if it be not the death of her. Poor child! she little suspects the heartache she has caused. The squire would rather have cut off his right hand than this had happened; he'll be blaming himself and thinking more of her in consequence. If she had had the wisdom of the serpent instead of the harmlessness of the dove, she could not have done better for herself than going away and leaving him to miss her." And the old pain tugged at Humphrey's heart-strings as he thought how dearly and truly Guy would learn to prize his treasure.

"Be you going to Lunnon, Farmer Nethecote?" was Dison's astonished greeting, as Humphrey made his appearance on the high windy platform.

"Oh, eh, we country-folk must be having our sight-seeing sometimes," returned Humphrey, absently. Yours must be a dull kind of place, Dison: how many passengers do you book an hour, I wonder? And what makes you think I am going to London, Dison, when my ticket is for Harrogate ?"

"Folks like you and t' squire aren't over-fond of putting up at Harrogate," returned Dison, with a grin. "Why, when I see t' squire's black bag I say, 'Lunnon, for sure.' Why, you've a bag yourself, Farmer Nethecote, and it ain't samples nor market-day."

"You are a sharp one, Dison," returned Humphrey, trying to speak jocularly, but with an uneasy flush on his honest face. "These Harrogate trains are as unpunctual as ever, I see our ladies complain sadly when they are out on a shopping-expedition and get home late for dinner.

Dison grunted unintelligibly by way of answer. Slowness of traffic was a sore subject with him.

"Miss Elliott will be back in plenty of time, I should think," he answered, 'crossly. "It is early birds as pick up worms, as I thought to myself when I served her with her