She withdrew the hand he would have taken, avoided his look, and answered with as little tremour as could be expected. "That cannot be, Mr. Dormer. I must ever feel an interest in your welfare, but the amendment which is founded only on the approval of a being erring like yourself, has too low and unstable a basement to be lasting or effectual."

They reached the house as she finished speaking, and, most desirous to put an end to the interview, she would have wished him good morning without asking him to enter; but, most unfortunately, the rain which had been threatening all day at this moment began to fall, and a servant appearing to take his horse, common humanity, as well as common politeness, obliged her to invite him in, though, had she been blessed, or cursed, whichever it may be, with second sight, it is doubtful if she would have offered him shelter, though it had rained cats, dogs, and pitch-forks. But Helen was a southern maiden, and every event of this day had proved that her ken extended not beyond the present.

It had been a day of troubles and contretemps; but as she ushered her guest towards the drawing-room, fully anticipa ting the presence of Mrs. Hargrave, she flattered herself he would soon depart, and leave her time to think and to rejoice at having prevented a meeting between him and her cousin. So much for Helen's schemes and Helen's foresight. Had she pressed her cousin to dine, she would have known better how to avoid him; had she procured the company of Miss Jones, Dormer might not have joined her; had she proceeded to the library instead of the drawing-room, she would have found her aunt: but she had done none of these things, and her dismay can be better imagined than described, when on throwing open the door to admit her visitor, she found herself fronting the very person she would at that moment have least wished to front-Robert Euston. This was a contretemps she had not anticipated. That very thing should come to pass which she had laboured so hard to prevent! What then? Heiresses must meet with troubles as well as other people. Had she seen a ghost, if such things are, she could not have been more alarmed; and would have felt little scruple in consigning her cousin for a while to a companionship with all the evil spirits laid in the Red Sea, since time began, "With can. dle, with book, and with bell.” She had well nigh given up the matter in despair, for Dormer had entered the room, and to show him elsewhere was impossible, when the curl of her cousin's lip, as he marked her terror, and the look of defiance

that passed between the gentlemen, showed her the danger of allowing two such fiery spirits to come in collision, and roused all her powers to prevent further mischief. Availing herself of the fashionable dogma of non-introduction, which allows you the happy chance of ridiculing your next neighbour unwittingly, for the gentlemen as yet knew each other only by sight, she motioned Dormer to a chair as much out of Robert's view as possible, and seated herself between them. Checking Robert with a look which brought the colour to his cheek, she commenced the difficult task of balancing her politeness and keeping the peace. Difficult as was the task, her success was for some time perfect. Neither gentleman spoke to the other, but both conversed with her. Dormer willingly, nay anxiously, as a means to banish the memory of the past; her cousin, as a matter of policy, to prevent any favour to his rival. Her success was so far beyond her hopes that, the weather having cleared, she was again entertaining the idea of a speedy release from her unpleasant situation, when her cousin, thinking she had bestowed too much attention for the last few minutes on her other visitor, availed himself of the first pause to say, with an air of mingled impertinence and non-chalance, "Suppose, Helen, you finish that Tale of Passion' you began, and the accompanying homily for our edification."

Had Robert studied a thousand years he could not have hit on a subject more annoying to his rival, who imagined him, from these words, aware of the scene with the beggar; but his flashing eye at the insult was fortunately hidden from the insulter. This certainly must be the crowning mis chance of the day. Nothing now could prevent a collision between them, and she turned pale at the thought.

"Come, Helen," continued her cousin, amazed at the effect of his own words, and heedless of her distress so he could but annoy Dormer, "pray let us have the story. Something about one man knocking down another in a passion, was it not?"

Dormer rose from his seat in mighty wrath, threw a reproachful glance at Helen, forgetting in his rage the utter impossibility of her having told her cousin one word concerning the beggar, and then strode towards Robert. The very

imminence of the danger again roused Helen to exertion. She stepped instantly between the wrathful spirits, answered Dormer's look with one that, whilst it declared her innocence, told also her wish to save him from further pain, asked his

opinion of a drawing on a table near, and then answered her cousin with a coldness that showed her displeasure.

"No, Robert! I am not going to weary Mr. Dormer with the village tale I began to you this morning; it could only be interesting to those knowing the parties."

"I beg pardon, I thought the moral might be edifying and amending to all."

"I have strong doubts if any thing will ever amend you,” she answered, still more coldly; 'then seizing, with woman's wit, on any thing to change the conversation, she summoned them both to look at a new horse which just then passed the windows; and the whole party in consequence adjourned to the lawn, Helen still keeping between them. Some fresh cause for dispute might have arisen whilst discussing the merits of the animal, had not the sound of the dinner-bell proved to Dormer the necessity of his instant departure, if he at all valued Lord Marston's good humour.

"Think not of me too harshly," he said, as he bade Helen adieu, "and forgive me if I doubted your kindness for a moment; to-morrow we meet again."

A bow of such studied politeness passed between the gentlemen, as told the humour of their minds.

"Have I your permission to dine at Hurlestone, Miss St. Maur?" asked her cousin ironically.

Helen durst not say no, and would not say yes; so steered a middle course.

"You are Mrs. Hargrave's guest, I conclude."

He read her thoughts, and to terrify her into more cordiality flung away rudely, saying, "Then I ride back with Mr. Dormer. I want excitement."

"Do so, and these doors are closed against your return." He looked fiercely at her, but her eye sank not beneath the gaze, and he dared not fulfil his threat.

"Allow me to conduct you back to the drawing-room.' “Excuse me, I must dress for dinner ;" and declining his proffered arm, she passed on to her dressing-room.

CHAPTER X.

The hero moved on, like a cloud before a ridge of heaven's fire; when it pours on the sky of night, mariners foresee a storm.

As breeze and tide to yonder skiff,
Thou 'rt adverse to the suit I bring,
And cold as is yon wintry cliff,

Where sea-birds close their weary wing.

OSSIAN.

WHEN Helen descended from her room, which was not till dinner had been announced, she pleaded a severe headache in excuse for her ill looks and little appetite, and scarcely spoke during the repast. Robert was either sulky, or something very like it, and the dinner neither afforded a display of "The feast of reason or the flow of soul."

Vain was his hope of meeting his cousin alone in the drawingroom; she did not appear till late in the evening, and he would not have seen her then, had she not feared to irritate him to some desperate act. When she did appear her looks were a rebuke to his violence.

friend to be in the way, Robert would have prewhat effect his words

Mrs. Hargrave was too much his and soon left the cousins together. ferred an opportunity of observing might produce on Helen; but she baffled his purpose by remaining in the recess of the window, and sending the lights to the other end of the room, on the plea of her head-ache.

He felt he had said too much in the morning not to say more; and his ill humour had been increased by seeing her return with Dormer. He must either apologize for the past, and promise for the future, which he had done a hundred times before, and broken the promise as soon as made, or he must carry the matter with as high a hand as he dared, and make himself appear to be the party aggrieved. It need scarcely be said he chose the latter course. In crossing the apartment to take a seat beside his cousin, so heedless had his ill-humour made him, and so little light was there in that part of the room, that he first fell over a footstool, and then nearly threw down a flower-table, splashing the water around in no measured quantity. One or two hasty exclamations, which did him no credit, escaped him; but Helen took no further notice of his conduct or mischances, than drawing a VOL. I.

table in such a manner as to prevent his taking a seat beside, or exactly before her; yet at the same time allowing herself free passage from her den, should she wish to retreat. Having repaired the damage as well as his impatience would permit, he took the nearest seat to hers which her manœuvre had left him, and as a polite preliminary asked if her head were better. No, rather worse; was the answer, and then there was another silence, whilst the gentleman felt all the difficulty of making a commencement. At length he began again, in

as careless a tone as he could assume.

"Mrs. Jones says, that your gallant preserver, the Knight of the Bridge, and Mr. Percy Dormer are one and the same.” He paused, but receiving no answer continued more vehe. mently. "She also says that he is your accepted lover, and that the nuptials are to be celebrated immediately." Still no answer. "What say you to this?" he inquired in a rage.

"That Mrs. Jones will say any thing," replied his cousin with the most provoking indifference; " and that I have heard you declare you would not crush a slug on her word."

"This pretended indifference, and repetition of my words, will not succeed. I have asked a plain question, and will have a plain answer."

66

Stop! you must first allow me to ask questions and have answers. Was the purpose of your second visit to Hurlestone only to repeat the idle tale of an idle gossip ?"

"You shall not thus evade my question Helen. I will be answered!"

"Shall and will, Mr. Euston, are words which can no longer be used from you to me."

His passion rose higher and higher as he felt himself in the wrong, and found her disinclination to yield to his vehemence. Stamping his foot with violence, he insisted in a furious tone

on an answer.

"On what grounds, Mr. Euston. As a reward for your very disinterested concern for my welfare; or as a recompense for your very gentlemanly conduct of this morning; or your equally gentlemanly behaviour of this evening; or for your thousand promises of gentleness, so freely given, and so rarely kept."

Galled by these truths, his fury almost choked his utterance, as he exclaimed ; "I claim an answer as your nearest relative; I claim it by the love I have so long borne you: and I warn you to refuse it at your peril. You shall not tamper with me, as in the morning; there is no bell near you