"Not now you have reminded me that to-day should be sacred." "Now or never," she impetuously said; "it shall be for the last time."

"Then repair the injustice of the will," proceeded Mr. Kage.

"En

tirely you cannot; in a measure you may: continue to the Miss Canterburys the income hitherto allowed them by their father. And should this little fellow ever be taken from you," he added, laying his hand on the child's head, "repair it effectually, by giving up to them a fitting share of their father's fortune."

Mrs. Canterbury had opened her eyes very wide, astonishment driving away her tears. "The income allowed to them was fifteen hundred a year!" she interrupted.

"I know it."

"And mine will not be much more than four thousand-including what I am to receive as personal guardian to the child; allow them fifteen hundred a year out of it, did you mean that ?" she reiterated, unable to overcome her surprise at the proposition.

"It is what I should do, Caroline."

The young widow tossed her head with a trace of her old impetuosity. "I would not so insult my husband's memory as to render his acts null and void. He did as he thought well, and I shall abide by it."

"Then you will not repair the injustice inflicted on the Miss Canterburys ?"

66

No, I will not-if you mean that giving them my inheritance would do it. But I do not recognise the will as unjust."

you say so, Caroline."

"I am ashamed to hear "What did I sell myself for, but to be rich?" she retorted, forgetting decorum in her angry heat. "Let the subject cease."

The following afternoon, Thomas Kage proceeded to the residence of the Miss Canterburys; but they were not at home: the servant said they were at the rectory with Mrs. Rufort. As he was turning towards it, he encountered the stranger, spoken of as having watched the funeral on the previous day. Both gentlemen stopped.

66

Kage, it's never you!"

"Captain Dawkes, I think. How are you? I supposed you had sailed for India: I saw the departure of your regiment some weeks ago."

"Captain Dawkes no longer, unless by courtesy: I have sold out. Which way are you walking? This? I'll turn with you: all ways are the same to me, for I am an idle man just now; and a horribly bored

one."

He put his arm within that of Mr. Kage, and they went onwards. "I leave for London to-night," remarked Mr. Kage: "are you making a long stay here?"

"The Fates know. Kage, you are a good fellow, I remember that, of old; don't proclaim to everybody you meet in London that you have seen me here. The mischief is, I have been going too fast, and it has left me more debts than money. I am here on the quiet, dodging from sheriff's officers."

"Be at ease: I will forget that I have seen you," said Mr. Kage.

"I only got here the night before last-meandering about from one buried-alive village to another, like a wandering ghost. I wish I was a ghost sometimes."

"It is only a temporary embarrassment, I hope, like your former ones."

"I have got a rich old aunt, you know, and, if she would help me, it would be but temporary, but she has gone crusty. My liabilities compelled me to sell out, and she actually let me do it, and so ruined my prospects, rather than square up. She had done it for me often before."

"There is whence the cause of her refusal may have come," remarked Mr. Kage. "You had tired her out."

"But one with her wealth has no right to be tired," argued the excaptain. "Where's the use of rich relations, unless they shell out their money?"

Mr. Kage laughed.

"I look upon a rich relative as the greatest misfortune a fellow can be hampered with," continued Mr. Dawkes, "especially if she's an old maid and got no children. Where can she bestow her tin, but upon you? you naturally argue, and of course you go on extensively on the strength of it. But for this aunt of mine, I should have turned out as sober as a Quaker. I have written her fifteen pathetic letters since my rustication, and not one has elicited a reply. I came out strong in the one that went up yesterday, enlarging upon a tempting stream hard by, which looked frightfully like a soothing solace for griefs and sorrows: I paid threepence at the library for a novel to compose it from, and as she's a rigidly religious woman, I expect its effect will be an answer despatched, flying, on the wings of Croesus, to prevent the hinted-at catastrophe. What brings you to this part of the country, Kage?"

"I came to attend the funeral of a friend."

"Oh, that's it: I see you are in fresh mourning and a crape on your hat. I hope it was a maiden relative, overdone with tin."

"No, it was Mr. Canterbury, of the Rock."

"That fine funeral! what a sight it was! I thought it must have been a duke royal's till I heard the name. He leaves hundreds of thou

It is very beautiful.”

"What do I care for scenery? if it were gold mines, I might look at it. People are saying his will is an unjust one."

"Very unjust," replied Thomas Kage; "Mr. Canterbury has left his large fortune to his wife and son, to the exclusion of his daughters." "She is well tied-up of course, the wife?"

"She is not tied-up at all: and if the boy should die, the whole fortune reverts to her absolutely. The good old notions of right and wrong seem to be out of fashion, now-a-days."

"Completely so," assented Mr. Dawkes; "witness my selfish old

aunt."

"And now I must leave you," said Thomas Kage, "for this is the rectory."

He sent in his card and was admitted. Mrs. Rufort, who after a long

illness had come down that day for the first time, sat in an easy-chair by the fire, and her sisters, Olive and Millicent, were near her. Miss Canterbury, apologising for her sister's illness, rose in her stead to receive. Mr. Kage. Her manners were politely stiff: she presumed he had called relative to business connected with their father's will.

"Relative to it," replied Mr. Kage, "but not to its business. Miss Canterbury, Mrs. Rufort, allow me to speak freely, allow me to state my plain sentiments: I have come, hoping to do so.'

Certainly he was free so to do, Miss Canterbury chillingly observed. "More than two years ago I was present at the Rock, during a painful interview; you cannot have forgotten it, Miss Canterbury. I should have been glad to tell you how much I disapproved of what then came to my knowledge, and how entirely my sympathies were with your cause and your sisters', but opportunity was not afforded me, and I was too great a stranger to seek it. I gave my cousin, Mrs. Canterbury, my opinion, before I departed for town, and I hoped and believed that what I said might induce her to urge the claims of justice on her husband. I heard no more of the affair until yesterday and you may judge my surprise when I found that the obnoxious will remained in force, and that I-I!-had been appointed sole executor.'

:

They all looked at him : he had an earnest, honest face, and he spoke in an earnest tone.

"Then-do we understand that you were not aware of the appointment; that you had not been consulted ?" asked Miss Canterbury. "Most certainly I was not. If I had been, I should have refused to accept it, and yesterday, in the mortification of the moment, I inwardly resolved not to do so: setting other feelings aside, I rebelled at my name being so prominently allied to an act of injustice. But I took the night for deliberation; I strove to see what I ought to do. I reflected that my refusal could not remedy the injustice or alter the conditions of the will; that it could do no good to any one, but might bring trouble and embarrassment on Mrs. Canterbury and her child; therefore I have decided to act, believing it my duty so to do. I could not help coming here to explain this, and to beg of you not to misjudge me."

Miss Canterbury's manner warmed to him insensibly: she was a great reader of characters, and she felt sure he was a conscientious, right-minded

man.

"I will no longer misjudge you," she exclaimed. as a friend: you look and speak like one." His eyes lighted up with pleasure.

as one yesterday."

"I will regard you

"But you did not look upon me

"Not altogether as one. Though I saw your start of amaze when you were mentioned as executor, and it puzzled me: I could not suppose you had been appointed without your own acquiescence.

"I would wish to be a friend to all," he observed, so far as my poor power lies. Life is not so long, or the grave so far off, that we need spend the one, and prepare for the other, in making enemies and sowing hatred."

“Very true,” murmured Miss Canterbury. "And I have lived half the time allotted to man."

Mr. Rufort came in, and the explanations were renewed. He grew equally pleased with this gentleman, and pressed him to spend the remainder of the day with them. Thomas Kage hesitated, as he glanced towards the invalid chair. "I would not wish to intrude," he said.

"If you are thinking of me," cried Mrs. Rufort, bending forward, with her own sweet smile, "I shall be very pleased to have you. I have been so long confined to quiet, and my chamber, that a friend to dine with will be a welcome change. It will make me think I am getting well."

"As you are, Jane," interrupted Mr. Rufort.

"Yes, I trust so: but it is a slow process. Do stay, Mr. Kage." "If I may dare to do so without offending Mrs. Canterbury. I hardly know she is touchy at times."

Olive fully assented to that: she knew it too well.

"I will return now, and tell her I am engaged to Mrs. Rufort. Should she reproach me with slighting the Rock, I must plead the fact that, if I am to be executor, I act for Mr. Canterbury's daughters as well as for her."

He left the rectory, Mr. Rufort accompanying him to the gate, where they stood talking. Hovering within sight was Captain Dawkes; and when Mr. Kage was fairly on his way, he joined him.

"Kage, could you do a fellow a service?"

"What is it ?"

"Lend me ten pounds. I'm regularly down in the world, and it will be an act of charity. I will repay you the instant I finger the remittance from my old aunt, and it's safe to come."

"I have not so much with me," replied Mr. Kage. "And my journey back to town I must keep for."

Mr. Dawkes bit his lips. "Couldn't you borrow, for that, from the rich widow you are stopping with ?"

"No, Dawkes, I cannot do that. I will see what I can lend you, " he added, taking out his purse. "Five, six-and some silver. I can let you have four pounds, if it will be of any use."

"Make it five, Kage, make it five; you don't know how desperately I require it."

The tone was one of painful entreaty, and Thomas Kage, after a moment's hesitation, put five sovereigns in his hand. Captain Dawkes was unaware that, to do this, entailed his returning to town in a secondclass carriage: he would not have been capable of the sacrifice, trifling though it may be deemed.

II.

TWELVE months went by, and Thomas Kage was ready to resign his executorship some law details had thus protracted the settlement. The deed of release was forwarded for Mrs. Canterbury and the other parties to sign, and Mr. Kage also left London for the Rock: there was no legal necessity for his presence there, but he chose to spare the time for the journey. The terminus was two miles distant from the Rock, and upon looking for the omnibus which usually met the train, Mr. Kage ran against Mr. Carlton.

"Don't get into that jolting omnibus," cried the warm-hearted squire, "let me drive you in my pony-gig; there's room for you and your portmanteau too. I came to look after a parcel of books, and it has not come."

They were soon bowling along the road, Mr. Carlton full of gossip, as he loved to be. In relating some news, he mentioned the name of Captain Dawkes.

"What, is he here-here still ?" exclaimed prise.

"Do you know him ?" returned Mr. Carlton. "A little."

Thomas Kage, in sur

"He is nothing of a sportsman; the greatest muff in the field you ever saw he is fonder of in-door sports than out-door ones," continued Mr. Carlton, significantly. "I fancy he is likely to become a relation of yours."

"A relation of mine! In what way?"

"Rumour goes that he will marry Mrs. Canterbury." "Ridiculous!" involuntarily burst from Thomas Kage. "I suppose she does not think so.

He is a good-looking blade, and is heir to a large fortune: as much as hers, they say." "Who says it?" quietly asked Mr. Kage.

"Who? I don't know. Everybody: and he says it himself." "How has he become intimate with Mrs. Canterbury?"

"Through living in the neighbourhood. He has been here a long while : : ever since Mr. Canterbury's death, it seems to me."

"How and where does he live?" questioned Mr. Kage, who appeared to be absorbed in what he heard.

"First of all, he was at the inn, and then he removed to a little furnished box there was to let, and had his sister down. He took it from month to month at starting, but now he has it by the twelvemonth." "And is intimate at Mrs. Canterbury's ?"

"Uncommonly intimate. Is at the Rock every day of his life. Folks say that Mrs. Kage went up there, and took her daughter to task about it but Mrs. Canterbury is her own mistress, and will do as she likes."

"I thought Mrs. Kage was living at the Rock. It was agreed that she should, as Caro-as her daughter was so young."

"Ay, there was something of the sort arranged; Mrs. Kage's proposal, I believe: but it did not last long; nobody thought it would, and she went back to her own home. She assumed too much domestic control, and Mrs. Canterbury would not put up with it. Mrs. Canterbury visits a great deal, and is extremely popular in the county."

"In spite of the unjust will."

"She and Mrs. Kage got a deal of blame at the time, but people seem to have forgotten it now."

"Ah," mused Thomas Kage, "time is the great obliterator of human actions, whether they be evil or good."

When they reached the Rock, Mr. Carlton halted, and shouted for the keeper to open the lodge gates. She came running out.

"I will walk up to the house," said Mr. Kage. "I should prefer it, for my legs are cramped. Thank you for bringing me."