away, though now I know how much there is to

live for.

But I think, too, the bitterness of death

is past; and I can bear to look forward without the agony of fear and shame, which weighed me down when first I knew that it was near. Those

were terrible hours in the ship.'

'Tell me, dear,' said Norah, looking into the depths of Ellen's eyes, clear and untroubled, and yet so deeply mournful-' tell me if it is indeed too late. I scarcely dare to speak of the unhappy misunderstanding which has broken your heart and health; but you do not know how I burn to act. You cannot love in vain; and a word from me might make all clear, and induce him to write or come.'

'No, oh no,' said Ellen; 'the thought of seeing him once more would rouse the old restless passion which I have sought to stifle, though I love, and must love him to the end. And if he were to come out, and come too late, he would reproach himself so bitterly.'

'Colonel Oliphant is not the one to be considered,' said Norah.

'You must not judge him harshly,' rejoined Ellen, earnestly. He loved me once, and only gave me up when he thought me weak and fickle. And I sometimes fancy that love will spring again; and if he comes uncalled to seek me, you will meet him kindly. Promise me that, Norah.' 'If I can,' said Norah; and Ellen looked distressed.

For my sake you can and will; and you must give him this token, if he ever comes to claim it.

Knowing, then, that I loved and trusted him to the end, there will be less cause for self-reproach.' And Ellen gave to Norah a packet containing a lock of fair hair, drawn through the ring which had been her own gift. This was the only time that Hugh Oliphant's name was spoken between them.

CHAPTER XXXIX.

Morte m'ha sciolto, Amor, d' ogni tua legge:
Quella, che fu mia Donna, al cielo è gita,
Lasciando trista, e libera mia vita.

ONE

PETRARCA.

NE afternoon late in November, when Hugh Oliphant was returning from a gallop on Clapham Common, he checked his horse to watch the progress of a game at foot-ball between two rival schools, and presently discovered Phil Kerr in the champion whose daring was only less conspicuous than his ugliness. Phil also recognized Colonel Oliphant, or rather his horse, as he afterwards asserted; and the moment the game was over he detached himself from the knot of boys so eagerly discussing its variations, and ran up to Hugh as he was about to turn his horse's head.

'Well, Colonel Oliphant, you might have the civility to speak to one.'

'I thought you were otherwise engaged,' said Hugh.

'I wanted so much to see you,' said Phil; 'and I should have written long ago, if she had not made me promise to let the matter rest.'

'Whom do you mean?' Hugh asked, with a sudden change of colour, his attention arrested by

Phil's eager, wistful manner, which differed so much from his usual defiant levity.

'You know who I mean,' said Phil; 'but we must have our talk out. Tell that being whose wrists come below his coat-sleeves, that you know me at home and want to take half an hour's turn on the common with me.'

The required permission was obtained with little difficulty from the usher in question; and Phil, with his hand on Hugh's stirrup, followed him in silence until they were at some distance from his companions.

'And now,' Hugh said, 'let me hear what you have to tell.'

'I wanted to ask,' said Phil, 'whose wonted fluency had altogether forsaken him; 'I wanted so much to know if you saw Aunt Ellen before she sailed.'

'I saw her,' replied Hugh, briefly. 'What then ?'

'Do you know why she went, Colonel Oliphant? Because she was too miserable to live here, or, perhaps, anywhere. At least Aunt Kate writes unhappily about her; and Lady Cecil scarcely liked to say what she thought of her, when she came down here with that miserable Griffin, the very day after the Falkland sailed. You should have seen the wicked light in her glassy eyes, when she said that she had not let Aunt Ellen come to wish us good-bye, because any excitement was bad for her. And then she hoped that we were making satisfactory progress in our studies!'

6 What your Aunt Anne may have said or done,

is of little consequence,' said Hugh, interrupting this account of her misdeeds without ceremony; 'but I insist on knowing what cause Ellen, Miss Kerr had for suffering.'

--

'Only this, that she cared for you more than you can know or guess, and all your wild suspicions about Louis Carew were cruel and unjust.'

Suspicions which you helped to foster,' said Hugh, through his set teeth.

'I know I did,' said Phil, penitently; and he added, as an involuntary tightening of the curb made the spirited horse wince and fret: 'You ought to punish me instead of poor Diomede. The sight of Diomede, whom I made out before I saw that it was you, brought back everything with a rush; our rides together, and the Griffin's barbarity in putting a stop to them, and Aunt Ellen's face of wretchedness that last day before we went to school, when I came back and told her that you had left the Oaks.'

'She cared so much?"

'I never knew before how people could care about such things,' replied Phil, with energy. 'Aunt Kate says she never held up her head again, and that she will die of grief and disappointment; she does not dare say so at home, so she writes it to me; and Aunt Kate is not such a fool as people think.'

There was silence for some moments; and Phil was terrified by the face of stern and repressed suffering which met his eyes when he ventured to

look up.