CATERINA tore herself from Anthony with the desperate effort of one who has just self-recollection enough left to be conscious that the fumes of charcoal will master his senses unless he bursts a way for himself to the fresh air; but when she reached her own room, she was still too intoxicated with that momentary revival of old emotions, too much agitated by the sudden return of tenderness in her lover, to know whether pain or pleasure predominated. It was as if a miracle had happened in her little world of feeling, and made the future all vaguea dim morning haze of possibilities, instead of the sombre wintry daylight and clear rigid outline of painful certainty.

She felt the need of rapid movement. She must walk out in spite of the rain. Happily, there was a thin place in the curtain of clouds which seemed to promise that now, about noon, the day had a mind to clear up. Caterina thought to herself, “I will walk to the Mosslands, and carry Mr Bates the comforter Í have made for him, and then Lady Cheverel will not wonder so much at my going out." At the hall door she found

VOL. LXXXI.-NO. CCCCXCIX.

Rupert, the old bloodhound, stationed on the mat, with the determination that the first person who was sensible enough to take a walk that morning should have the honour of his approbation and society. As he thrust his great black and tawny head under her hand, and wagged his tail with vigorous eloquence, and reached the climax of his welcome by jumping up to lick her face, which was at a convenient licking height for him, Caterina felt quite grateful to the old dog for his friendliness. Animals are such agreeable friends they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms.

"The Mosslands" was a remota part of the grounds, encircled by the little stream issuing from the poole and certainly, for a wet day, Caterin; could hardly have chosen a less suitable walk, for though the rain was abating, and presently ceased altogether, there was still a smart shower falling from the trees which arched over the greater part of her way. But she found just the desired relief from her feverish excitement in labouring along the wet paths with an umbrella that made her arm ache. This amount of exertion was to her tiny body

2 L

what a day's hunting often was to Mr G., who at times had his fie of 90FT 200 Batess to get rid of, a1 way han resouree to nature's innocent oplom-Atique

When Caterina reached the pretty greked wooden bridge wildh the only entrance to the Mowlands for any but webbed feet, the sun had mastered the clouds, and was shining through the bougns of the tall elms that made a deep next for the gardener's cottage turning the raindrops into diamonds, and inviting the nas turtium flowers creeping over the porch and low-thatched roof to lift up their flame-coloured heads once more. The rooks were cawing with many-voiced monotony, apparently by a remarkable approximation to human intelligence-finding great conversational resources in the change of weather. The mossy turf, studded with the broad blades of bulbous plants, told that Mr Bates's nest was rather damp in the best of weather; but he was of opinion that a little external moisture would hurt no man who was not perversely neglectful of that obvious and providential antidote, rum-and-water.

Caterina loved this nest. Every object in it, every sound that haunted it, had been familiar to her from the days when she had been carried thither on Mr Bates's arm, making little cawing noises to imitate the rooks, clapping her hands at the green frogs leaping in the moist grass, and fixing grave eyes on the gardener's fowls cluck-clucking under their pens. And now the spot looked prettier to her than ever; it was so out of the way of Miss Assher, with her brilliant beauty, and personal claims, and small civil remarks. She thought Mr Bates would not be come in to his dinner yet, so she would sit down and wait for him.

But she was mistaken. Mr Bates was seated in his arm-chair, with his pocket-handkerchief thrown over his face, as the most eligible mode of away those superfluous hours tween meals when the weather drives a man indoors. Roused by the furious barking of his chained bulldog, he descried his little favourite approaching, and forthwith presented himself at the doorway, look

ing Esproportionately to empated the height off Lis COTL The boldog. meet wide Iliz from the severity of his ofAL D Leaboor, and commenced & falự intentazze of bless with Loper

Mr Bates's hair was now her, bas his frame was none the JA SUL WIT and his face looked all the redder, making an artistic contrast with the deep bine of his outton Deckersbed and of his linen apron twisted in girlle round bis waist.

- Why, dang my boottons, Miss Tiny," he exclaimed, “boo coom pe to coom oot dabblin' your faet lake a little Muscovy duck, sich a day as this? Not but what aï'm delighted to sae ye. Here, Hesther," he called out to his old humpbacked bogsekeeper, "tek the young ledy's oombrella an' spread it oot to dray. Coom, coom in. Miss Tiny, an set ye doon by the faire an' dray yer fact, an' hev summat warm to kape ye from ketchin' coold."

Mr Bates led the way, stooping under the door-places, into his small sitting-room, and, shaking the patchwork cushion in his arm-chair, moved it to within a good roasting distance of the blazing fire.

“Thank you, uncle Bates" (Caterina kept up her childish epithets for her friends, and this was one of them`; "not quite so close to the fire, for I am warm with walking."

'Eh, but yer shoes are faine an wet, an' ye must put up yer faet on the finder. Rare big faet, baint 'em? -aboot the saize of a good big spoon. I woonder ye can mek a shift to stan' on 'em. Now, what 'll ye hev to warm yer insaide? a drop o' hot elder-wain, now?"

"No, not anything to drink, thank you; it isn't very long since breakfast," said Caterina, drawing out the comforter from her deep pocket. Pockets were capacious in those days. "Look here, uncle Bates; here is what I came to bring you. I made it on purpose for you. You must wear it this winter, and give your red one to old Brooks."

That evening Mia Aster vemed to carry herself with anos mig finem, and wis eoidy comermans of Cater na There was numÜSTAKADAŢ thander in the air. Captain Wytria appeared to take the matter very , and was inclined to bmre it out by paying more than orinary attention to Caterina, Mr G. had induced her to pay a game at draughts with him, Lady Asher being wated at pingnet with Sr Christopher, and Mis Avter in determined conversation with Lady Cheverel Anthony, thus left as an odd unit, sauntered up to Caterina's chair, and leaned behind her, watching the game. Tina, with all the remembrances of the morning thick upon her, felt her cheeks becoming more and more crimson, and at last waid impatiently, "I wish you would go away."

This happened directly under the view of Miss Assher, who saw Caterina's reddening cheeks, saw that she said something impatiently, and that Captain Wybrow moved away in consequence. There was another person, too, who had noticed this incident with strong interest, and who was moreover aware that Miss Assher not only saw, but keenly observed what was passing. That other person was Mr Gilfil, and he drew some painful conclusions which heightened his anxiety for Caterina.

The next morning, in spite of the fine weather, Miss Assher declined riding, and Lady Cheverel, perceiving that there was something wrong between the lovers, took care that they should be left together in the drawing-room. Miss Assher, seated on the sofa near the fire, was busy with some fancy-work, in which she seemed bent on making great progress this morning, Captain Wybrow sat opposite, with a newspaper in his hand, from which he obligingly read extracts with an elaborately

ay in vládly manseicus of the uzenpoious silence with which she permet her faume work... Arength de pin down the paper, wien he coad a coprer pretend not to have exhausted, and Mas Aster then

- You seem to be on very intimate terms with Miss Sarti"

- With Tina! oh yes; she has always been the pet of the house, you know. We have been quite brother and sister together."

~ Sisters don't generally colour so very deeply when their brothers approach them."

it.

- Does she colour! I never noticed But she's a timid little thing."

It would be much better if you would not be so hypocritical. Captain Wybrow. I am confident there has been some flirtation between you. Miss Sarti, in her position, would never speak to you with the petulance she did last night, if you had not given her some kind of claim on you."

"My dear Beatrice, now do be reasonable; do ask yourself what earthly probability there is that I should think of flirting with poor little Tina. Is there anything about her to attract that sort of attention She is more child than woman. One thinks of her as a little girl to be petted and played with.”

"Pray, what were you playing at with her yesterday morning, when I came in unexpectedly, and her cheeks were flushed, and her hands trembling?"

"Yesterday morning?-0, I remember. You know I always teaze her about Gilfil, who is over head and ears in love with her; and she is angry at that, perhaps, because she likes him. They were old playfellows years before I came here, and Sir Christopher has set his heart on their marrying."

"Captain Wybrow, you are very