Afraid to be considered fanciful or self-indulgent, Ellen came down to breakfast next day, and went with the others to the daily morning service, although she felt weary and breathless even before she reached the gate which divided their garden from the churchyard. She did not complain; and Anne was slow to see when anything was amiss: but Mr. Carew interfered when Louis urged her to profit by the first gleam of sunshine, and go out with him on her pony.

'Ellen has done enough or too much for today,' he said: 'she had better come in and lie down; and, if she is fit for a little home occupation, I will ask her to help me in looking over the coal accounts.'

6

Which will be much more fatiguing and tiresome than a quiet ride; don't you think So, Ellen?'

I would much rather stay with Uncle William,' said Ellen, with an energy which Louis, though tolerably obtuse in such matters, felt to be little flattering to himself.

'As you please,' he said, rather gruffly; and he walked away with a defiant whistle. But his illhumour was never of long duration; and his open face presently reappeared to ascertain that Ellen had got all she wanted: he made a great clatter with the fire-irons, because she looked cold; and asked if she had any commands out of doors.

'None, thank you,' said Ellen; 'unless you bring back the post-bag. The Cape letters are due; and we might hear from George.'

Louis set forth at once; and Ellen fell into a

dream, which had nothing to do with the columns of figures before her; but she was presently roused by the consciousness that Mr. Carew's eyes were fixed upon her: she coloured painfully, and began to give her whole attention to addition; and he left his desk to place his hand upon the paper.

You are not to worry yourself with that, dear. There is no crime in sitting idle when you feel languid and ill.'

I like to help you, Uncle William,' said Ellen; but the tears stood in her eyes, and she sought in vain to dash them aside unobserved.

You can help me most by telling your grief; for it quite saddens me to see you. You are not well, or not happy: which is it? Or are you only pining for Norah?

If Norah were here it might be better,' said Ellen.

And since she is not here, will you let me supply her place? I may help you if I know what is the matter.'

'I cannot tell you, Uncle William,' said Ellen, shrinking from the kind gaze of his clear, light blue eyes; ‘it is a long, miserable story: I have been wrong throughout, or, at least, weak and foolish, and nothing now can undo the past.'

'Perhaps not, dear; but if you will trust me more fully, I may teach you to bear the suffering it has brought with it with a stouter heart. And perhaps, after all, the past is not irremediable.'

It is it is, indeed,' said Ellen. I know, Uncle William, that you must have had hints of

the story from Anne; so I will just say that he is not to blame. I was foolish, and did not understand; but it is all clear now, and I am trying to forget.'

'As you say, dear,' said Mr. Carew, alarmed by Ellen's increasing agitation; it may be better to let the matter rest, since I cannot help you. So perhaps we had better return to the calculation of hundredweights of coal.'

MR.

R. CAREW had, however, no intention of letting the matter rest; and he sought an opportunity of explanation with Anne, which was soon afforded him, by her entreaty that he would not indulge Ellen's disinclination to any exertion.

'It was quite enough,' Anne said, 'to have one such fanciful invalid as Clara in the house.'

'Ellen is not well,' said Mr. Carew, gravely. 'No: but she only requires rousing, to shake off her languor. Her cough is almost gone.'

'But not altogether; and there is a look of transparent delicacy, which I have seen before, and never without trembling. I doubt whether her frame is strong enough to bear the weight of care which is preying upon her.'

'Has Ellen been confiding her wrongs?' Anne asked, with some discomposure.

'She gave me no more of her confidence than

I felt I had a right to demand,' replied Mr. Carew. 'Indeed, I should not have been justified in interfering at all, if I had seen greater sympathy and tenderness on the part of one who ought to fill a mother's place.'

'It is not my way to be demonstrative,' Anne answered, not disposed to accept the reproach; ' and I believe that I am consulting Ellen's real welfare, in discouraging the premature inclination to romance and sentiment which was fostered by Norah, and of which her present unhappiness is the natural result.'

'I am only imperfectly acquainted with the facts of the case,' said Mr. Carew; 'but I can see that it is no romantic fancy, but the disappointment of a true and deep attachment, which affects Ellen's health and spirits. And I must repeat, that I am seriously uneasy about her health.'

'I have done what I could in bringing her here for change of air,' said Anne.

'But I am in favour of a more absolute change. What do you say to sending her to make her home with George and Norah?"

'Is it Ellen's own wish to go?' said Anne, with a sudden pang, as the misgiving for the first time crossed her mind, that it must have been a harsh and unloving rule which had driven her to seek sympathy elsewhere than at home.

'She did not say so; but she expressed a great yearning to be with Norah, and the fresh associations would soon work her cure: for, romantic as you seem to think me, I do not believe in a life

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