Elliott, be generous; I do so hate giving a fellow-creature pain." And there was such a winning look of bonhomie in Guy Chichester's eyes, that Dym's brief hatred died away, and her pride with it.

There, then, I forgive you will that do?"

"Shake hands, then, like men and brothers—sisters—what do I mean?" And thereupon a very healing laugh broke from Dym's lips.

"That's right; I thought you had forgotten how to laugh in Kentish Town. Do you recollect what fun we used to have in Edith's sick-room?"

"You and Edith, you mean."

"True; you held yourself somewhat aloof from our frivolity. Nevertheless, I have often heard suppressed sounds from your corner. Do you recollect my story of 'The House of Cards?'"' "Wait a moment, Mr. Chichester; please don't go on just yet. I want to tell you something."

"What?"

"That you were right about my temper."

"Halloo!

Honesty without her mask again."

"I was only a little put out that you should notice it so soon. I am rather sore on this subject, Mr. Chichester; my temper is my bane."

"Get rid of it, then."

"Good advice; but how to follow it?"

"Throw it off as Sindbad did the Old Man of the Sea. How old are you, Miss Elliott? Another plain question." Eighteen."

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Age of innocence! eighteen versus three-and-thirty. My dear Miss Elliott, you will never make me believe your Old Man of the Sea is as formidable or sticks half so hard as mine."

Dym leant her chin on her hand and regarded him fixedly. "Wherefore that inquisitorial glance?"

"You really have a bad temper, Mr. Chichester?". "I advise you not to ask."

Why?"

"My answer might frighten you."

"I thought so," in a cheerful tone; "but," hesitating, "I suppose people like you in spite of it."

My mother does."

Oh, mothers always do; but other people who know you well, are they afraid of you?”

They would be if they saw me in one of my bad moods. But come, come; I am not going to put myself in the pillory, as an example and warning to naughty girls and boys. I am a terrible fellow when you come to know me, Miss Elliott; but I suppose I have my good points. I must have," suddenly changing his voice, and sighing. "My dear Miss Elliott, you and I have been running a tilt, half in jest and half in earnest, pour passer le temps. It is pleasant pastime, but there's many a true word spoken in jest. I was a little impertinent to you just now."

"No, pray do not say so."

"Truth will out, you see. I told you I had scruples of conscience about retaining you as Edith's governess, when a word from me would have turned the scale. If I did not speak that word, it was not because I believed all my cousin's accusation. From the first, I felt her to be manifestly unjust, and I preferred to judge for myself."

"And your verdict was against me?"

"Not altogether," with a merry twinkle of the eye, " only I felt you were unfit for your position. Edith, it is true, had not suffered from your caprice; but she might. There was affection between you, but, pardon me, Miss Elliott, no wise guiding."

"I tried my best," very softly.

"No one could know you even a little and not see that; but take the word of a spoilt child of Fortune, who knows better how to preach than to practice-don't waste your life in making vain efforts. Strike out new paths for yourself; rise above mere conventionality; be true to your own nature. You have not patience or temper, or the mellowed wisdom of experience to fit you for a guide of youth; you want to be in leading-strings yourself yet; you will not do for a governess, but you will make a capital sick-nurse."

Dym shuddered.

You do not like my suggestion."

"To be in a sick-room all one's life no, oh, no!"

"You want something gayer and more varied. You surprise me. I should have held it to be woman's noblest voca

tion."

"That is what Will always says," shrugging her shoulders. "Sensible Will; but what is the good of talking sense to unwilling ears? Miss Elliott, I told you before that I was very anxious to repair my cousin's injustice, and to help you by any means within my power; the question is, how?"

"True." Dym uttered the word slowly. "Then you don't think I shall ever do well as a governess?"

"It is not your vocation."

"Vocation! I hate the word; it seems to bind one down So. Do you think I might go out as a companion, Mr. Chichester ?"

"The very thing. I wonder your friends have not thought of it before. A good thought, Miss Elliott. Ah, did you see that shadow across the window? I believe it must be your brother."

Dym sprang up and opened the door.

What, Dym, only just come back?"

"There, I've had my hat on all this time, and never knew it. Oh, Will, how late you are, and just when I wanted you so!" "Wanted me? Why, what is the matter? What a color you've got, Dym! Why, Latimer, you don't mean to say you've honored us at last ?"

"Better late than never: your sister has been entertaining me for the last hour. Miss Elliott, without being personal— a thing I detest-may I remark you are opening your eyes rather widely?"

“Oh, Will—the Unknown! Why this-this is my Mr. Chichester, the one I spoke to you about-Edith's guardian, I mean," finished Dym, feeling she was explaining herself very badly.

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"I

Guy Latimer Chichester at your service," remarked that individual, coolly, taking no notice of Dym's unfortunate possessive pronoun. "There, murder will out, Elliott; your sister has betrayed me, and now is your mind relieved?" Very much so," replied William Elliott, frankly. hate fictitious sobriquets-everything fair and open for me. If I had known Latimer was really your baptismal name, it would not have stuck so often in my throat; anyhow, I am thankful you are not an earl's son in disguise; simple Guy Chichester, I suppose?"

"I sometimes take an esquire at the end," responded Mr.

Chichester, dryly. "What a family yours is for honesty! your sister there is like a pane of glass."

Dym laughed and ran out of the room, on hospitable thoughts intent. Mr. Chichester, her unknown hero, the wonderful Mr. Latimer; it was too strange, too delightful altogether; and she had been nearly quarreling with him, too, when all the time he had been Will's friend, who had helped him so. Dym felt she could never be sufficiently contrite.

When she had finished her little preparations-not forgetting to don her smartest ribbons in honor of the occasionDym went back to the sitting-room and marched up straight to Mr. Chichester.

"I have been thinking it all over, and I have so often wanted to thank you."

"To thank me, for what? I will thank you, presently, when you have given me some tea."

"I thought you were getting it ready, Dym."

"So I was; it will be here directly, Will; don't be impatient. But, Mr. Chichester, I cannot be happy till I have thanked you for all you have done for Will and St. Luke's. For what are you looking?" for Mr. Chichester, red in the face, was groping mysteriously under his chair.

"For my hat; I think I have mislaid it.”

"Here it is; take it away, Dym; hide it somewhere. You foolish girl, didn't I tell you Mr. Latimer hated gratitude?" "Was it that that was driving him away? Sit down, Mr. Chichester; you shall have your tea directly." And with much tact Dym bustled about, and, aided by her brother, soon produced a creditable enough looking meal, during the course of which Mr. Chichester gradually recovered his equanimity. What a pleasant evening that was! the pleasantest, Dym thought, that she had ever spent. And before the end of it she had achieved one success-Mr. Chichester pronounced her a good listener. High praise from a clever man.

As a general rule, men prefer responsive to suggestive powers in a woman. A woman whose intellect is ambitious enough to emulate the other sex is rarely a favorite with either. The bright intelligence that can appreciate without deterioration, that can, if occasion require, sum up into brief review the salient points of an argument or a thing discussed,

-that can even weigh and judge its merits without obtruding contradiction and opinionativeness, this is justly prized by men; and a listener, be she an intelligent one, is worth half a score of clever talkers.

Dym could talk cleverly sometimes, but she loved better to listen, and especially to such men as Will and Guy Chichester, both men of no mean order of intellect. Mr. Chichester combined rare eloquence with much native shrewdness; his mode of speech was always abrupt, but now and then it would be startling; his discourse, when on most solemn subjects, would be varied by lightning-like flashes of metaphor or humor. Will was a more even speaker.

Both men talked well.

Guy Chichester was the more daring in his speculations; William Elliott felt more.

Dym, sitting by in unconscious criticism, thought Guy Chichester was far the grandest talker she had ever heard in her life; but Will's words came home nearest to her heart.

The priest prevailed over the layman; not by virtue of his office, truth compelling me to avow that Guy Chichester was a Broad Churchman, but simply because the priest had lived out his own convictions, not taught them simply.

And this was the secret of the strange bond that already bound these two men together-mutual respect on the one side developing into reverence, on the other into hero-worship, not unmixed with pity, for William Elliott had already discovered that Guy Chichester was his own enemy.

CHAPTER VII.

A GLIMPSE INTO THE HAPPY VALLEY

DYM had sufficient leisure to think over her pleasant evening, for Mr. Chichester never came near them for a whole week after this-nay, more, he was missing at the school.

Dym marveled greatly over this sudden disappearance, but her brother took the matter more coolly. "You don't suppose we keep this sort of rara avis permanently at St. Luke's," he