'No; not unwelcome. But I thought that had come to dinner.'

you

'So I have, if I may take that as an invitation.’ 'We have left off dining late since

- since — 'Since Oakleigh's departure,' said Hugh, supplying the blank a little drily. However, I assure you I prefer a hungry tea; so I hope you will not condemn me to return to the Oaks.'

'I dare say Anne will be glad to see you,' said Ellen, very shyly.

'If you are glad to see me, it is all I care for,' Hugh answered, in a tone which made reply impossible; and Ellen sprang away like a startled fawn, as the door opened to admit Anne.

'I was just confessing,' Hugh said, turning to her, that I came here in search of an invitation, which your sister says she is not entitled to give.'

"It will give us great pleasure if you will stay to tea,' said Anne, as graciously as she could, since no other answer was possible; but if the pleasure of the entertainment had depended upon her, Hugh might have preferred a solitary evening. He seemed, however, insensible to her chilling formality of manner, and even succeeded in thawing it by his ease and pleasantness. Without embarrassing Ellen by any pointed attention, he made her feel that she was first in his thoughts; and he would bend forward to catch every tone of her low and gentle voice with an eager deference, which almost overthrew her omposure. How long his last Good-night,'

spoken as they stood a little apart from the rest, was to linger on her ears, she herself little dreamed.

Before prayers next morning, two letters were brought to Ellen in the school-room; and passing over Cecil's, she first opened the envelope directed in her brother's less familiar hand.

'MY DEAR MISS KERR,

'I am sure that you will rejoice to hear of Mary's amendment, and that I am to see her this evening, though only for a few minutes, as she is still very weak. Nor can I refrain from telling you what will soon be no secret to any one, that I have had a full explanation with my mother, and she promises to be the first to urge Mary to accept the love which I have hitherto offered in vain. I am convinced that the doubt of her approbation was the only cause of my rejection; and when that obstacle is removed, Mary cannot refuse to be mine. I am at once too happy and too anxious to write; but I look forward to talking it all over with you before long.

'It was with very mingled feelings that I heard you justify her before; but now it will be all happiness. My kindest regards to your sisters. Tell Oliphant all he wishes to know, and that I claim his congratulations; and believe me always most truly yours,

'J. OAKLEIGH.'

If Lord John's letter was a little incoherent,

R

his sister's was much more obscure, full of erasures, and written with a constraint and reserve quite unlike her usual style.

'MY DEAREST Ellen,

'I waited to write until we heard again from Alban Manor; and I cannot remember whe ther my former letter was sent off before Mamma decided to go there at once, without waiting for Johnny's report. She found that Mary's illness had never been really alarming, and we are now quite easy about her. She wrote after Johnny reached the Manor, very much agitated, poor fellow; for you know that he and Mary were always great allies like brother and sister, I used to think. As Mary is better, I suppose Harriet's wedding will remain fixed for October 6th; and I hope you will be able to come-[‘If it is quite agreeable to you,' she had added; and Ellen could still decipher the words through the line dashed through them]. Harriet sends her best love, and mine you must never doubt; but believe me always your most affectionate

'CECIL.'

Ellen was amused, though a little piqued by this guarded note. 'If Cecil had spoken out,' she thought, 'I might have relieved her by the assurance that Lord John is not so irresistible as she imagines; and that he may make what engagements he pleases without disturbing my peace of mind. It is certainly no reason for giving up my visit to Houghton; for it will be pleasant to

see them all again, and Mary especially, without that sober face which I thought she must always wear. She and Lord John are a strange combination, as Colonel Oliphant said. He will be

there, of course.' And her thoughts, which had hitherto roved at will, rested here, until the bell summoned her to family prayers.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Ah! je voudrais, ne fut ce que pour un moment, goûter encore de l'espérance! mais c'en est fait, le désert est inexorable, les gouttes d'eau comme la rivière sont taries, et le bonheur d'un jour est aussi difficile que la destinée de la vie entière. Corinne.

'HA

AD you any letters, Ellen?' enquired Anne, as they sat down to breakfast.

'Yes; I will show them to you presently,' said Ellen, deciding that it would be better to make the dreaded explanation to Anne alone. Though agitated, she did not look unhappy; and her sisters were satisfied that Lord John had at length made his declaration of attachment, and breakfast was hastily despatched, in order not to defer its announcement. But when the two sisters were left together, Ellen's heart beat so fast that she was unable to speak; and she silently put Lord John's letter in Anne's hand, who read and re-read it before she looked up, disturbed and doubtful.

'I do not understand, Ellen. Does Lord John mean that he is attached,—that he is about to be engaged to his cousin?'

'Yes,' Ellen faltered; and Anne drew her to her side with alarmed compassion.

'My poor child! It is a cruel blow; and he