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This text has been proofread but is not guaranteed to be free from errors. Corrections to the original text have been left in place.
Title: A Hidden Chain, volume I, an electronic edition
Author: Russell, Dora
Publisher: Digby, Long and Co., Publishers
Place published: London
Date: [189?]
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 The Hidden Chain The Hidden Chain BY Dora Russell  Author of "Footprints in the Snow," "The Broken Seal," "The Track of the 
Storm," "A Fatal Past," "The Vicar's Governess," "Hidden  in my Heart," "A Great Temptation," etc., etc.
In Three Volumes Vol. I Second EditionLONDON:DIGBY, LONG AND CO., PUBLISHERS18  BOUVERIE STREET, FLEET STREET. E.C. Table of Contents for Russel's A Hidden Chain Table of Contents for Russel's  A Hidden ChainA HIDDEN CHAIN
CHAPTER I.
COMING OF AGE."WELL, Jeanie, and are you satisfied?""Oh! Kilmore, satisfied! I am more than satisfied; I am proud—so proud."The speakers were a pair standing arm in arm on the green and wide-spreading sward of Kilmore Park, just as the soft August twilight began to steal around. The man was tall, middle-aged, somewhat rough-featured, but the expression of his face was dignified and kindly, while the woman was still in her lovely prime. She looked up at him as she spoke, and her eyes were shining with joy and love."He did not speak badly," said the man, smiling."He spoke beautifully, and he looked so handsome, Kilmore—like a young king.""Well, my dear, as kings as a rule are not particularly handsome, that is hardly a compliment—but the lad did very well."They were talking of their only son, whose coming of age had just been celebrated by a banquet given to all the tenants of the great properties to which he was the heir. He was a lucky young man, seemingly, this Arthur Victor, Lord Clair, whose father and mother, the Earl and Countess of Kilmore, were thinking and speaking of with such tender pride. Lucky in his birth, in his good looks, and in all the future prospects of his life. And today he had been told this; he had realised perhaps for the first time as he stood the hero of the hour—bowing his thanks for all the good wishes showered on him, that he had his full share of the gifts which all men prize. The thought had flushed his face, and brightened his eyes, and loosened his tongue, and he had returned thanks, after his health had been drunk, in such well-chosen graceful

words, that no wonder his mother's heart beat high with pride, and the Earl himself was not unmoved.Lord Kilmore's own up-rearing had not been as his son's. Born the younger son of a younger son, he had been told early in life that he had his own way to make in the world, which way, as we all know, is not smoothly paved. Educated as a barrister, he had struggled on until his thirty-fifth year, when a sudden change came in his fortunes.His uncle, the sixth Earl of Kilmore, a penurious old man of past seventy, who had taken very little notice of his briefless nephew, and considered that "Arthur had not got on as he should," was after a short illness called upon to leave his wealth and his honours behind him. He was succeeded by his son, who was as reckless in his expenditure as his father had been careful. But an extraordinary fate in less than a month after his father's death over-took the young seventh Earl of Kilmore. He died of blood poisoning, said to have been contracted by sleeping in a room newly painted. By this time the briefless barrister's father, who had been a country parson, also

was dead, and to his own extreme surprise news came to the Temple which in a moment changed the poor barrister's whole career. He was the next heir to his cousin, the young Earl, who had died unmarried, and thus became eighth Earl of Kilmore, a rich man, with the bitter experiences of his poor and struggling youth stored usefully in his heart.Among his troubles had been a hopeless but strong attachment to the beautiful young daughter of a distinguished judge. He had never spoken of love to Janet Gower, but none the less he had loved her, and this love had been silently and secretly returned. When he became Earl of Kilmore, and his great good fortune was known, the judge congratulated him, and invited him to dinner. But Lord Kilmore forgave the judge his former neglect and all other things. He married his Janet, and on the day of their son's coming of age had been married to her for twenty-three years. There was a little grave in the village churchyard of Kilmore, where their first-born slept, but this early loss and sorrow had but drawn closer the hearts of the husband and wife, and their

second soil, Arthur Victor, Lord Clair, was everything that their hearts desired."There is only one wish I have now," Said Lady Kilmore, as they still strolled arm-in-arm through the fast darkening Park, listening smilingly to the strains of the band proceeding from a large tent where dancing had now commenced; "that Clair would think of Annette.""My dear little woman, let these things alone," Answered the Earl, laying his hand affectionately on his wife's; "Annette is a nice girl, and a pretty girl, and moreover is your niece; but unless Clair really fancies her, it is no use trying to put it into his head.""I wonder if he is dancing the first dance with her?""Very likely; but dancing the first dance with her does not mean marrying her, you know. Take my advice, Jeanie, don't lead Annette to think of Clair until he thinks of her; it might only end in unhappiness for the poor girl, and I am sure you would not like that?""No, indeed," Said Lady Kilmore, quickly, and then she gave a little wistful sigh."And now, my dear," Continued the Earl, "I think it is quite time that a man of my age should retire off the damp grass. Let us go in, Jeanie; Clair and Annette will tell us how the dance goes on, and," he added with a smile, "you can inquire then how many times they danced with each other?"Lady Kilmore smiled also, and together the husband and wife left the Park and entered the great mansion standing in its midst, each thinking still of the young heir, who at the present moment was enjoying himself to his heart's content.For we may be sure that his good looks and his neat and well-chosen words had not been lost on several pretty maidens, who had formed part of the guests at the banquet. All the farmer's wives and daughters had been invited as well as themselves to assemble to do honour to the coming of age of Lord Clair. One of the largest tenants was a certain Mr. Dighton, who farmed the land adjoining the Park, and lived in the pretty house standing on the green and fertile hillside, at whose foot gurgled the river Ayre over its pebbly bed.There was a young Dighton, a keen sportsman

and fisherman, and this Dick Dighton was on fairly intimate terms with Lord Clair. They fished together, and had known each other from boyhood, and Clair also knew more slightly the rest of the farmer's family. These consisted of a comely wife, and yet more comely daughter. All the Dightons were present both at the banquet and the ball, and Clair honoured Mrs Dighton by asking her to dance the first dance.But the rosy-checked, portly dame, who was sitting with her husband on one side and her daughter and another girl on the other, and her son standing in front, wisely but proudly shook her head."No, my lord," She said, "my dancing days are over; you must choose one of the young ones.Upon hearing this speech of her mother's, Annie Dighton, who was really a pretty girl, blushed, east down her blue eyes, and moved uneasily in her seat."Well, if you won't, Mrs Dighton," Answered the young lord, good-naturedly, "perhaps Miss Dighton will allow me to dance the first dance with her?"Annie Dighton blushed more deeply still, but Mrs Dighton replied promptly for her laughter."Annie will only be too proud, my lord," She said. "Get up, Annie, and dance with his lordship."Upon this Annie rose smiling and fair, and timidly raised her eyes and looked at her future partner.Another pair of eyes, but not timid ones, were at this moment also looking at the young lord with a grave, inquiring glance. These eyes, dark, languid, and beautiful, belonged to the other girl who was sitting by Mrs Dighton's side, and whose remarkable personal appearance had already attracted the notice of Lord Clair. He looked at her again as Annie Dighton rose, but the girl neither blushed nor shrank from his admiring glance."Dighton," Said Clair, as Annie took his arm, "come, get a partner, and you can be our vis-a-vis."Upon this Dick Dighton, who was a heavily-built, rather good-looking young man, advanced somewhat loutishly to the dark-eyed girl by his mother's side."Miss Moore, will you dance with me?" he said."Yes, Mr Richard," Answered Miss Moore, with a half smile, and then she also rose."Let us go to the head of the tent," Said Clair, "and I will make up a set there. Excuse me a moment, Miss Dighton, until I see about getting the others to dance, and tell the band to begin."The young lord hurried away as he spoke, and ordered the band to commence to play, and busied himself about getting up the different sets for the first quadrille.It was by his wish entirely that this dance had been got up, Lord and Lady Kilmore having allowed him to manage it all his own way. He had ordered and arranged the decorations of the tent, fixed the music--in fact, managed it all, assisted only by his cousin, Annette Gower.And the whole thing was well done. It was a tenants' ball, but one or two young men of his own class were also present. But it was intended for the farmers' wives and daughters, and Clair was very anxious that every one should enjoy themselves.Thus he went round the tent getting up sets of dancers, and as he did so the three young people standing before Mr and Mrs Dighton were all watching his movements."What do you think of him when you see him near, Eva?" whispered Annie Dighton to the dark-eyed girl."He is pleasant looking," She answered."Oh! I think he is so handsome," Continued Annie with enthusiasm. She was in fact so delighted and excited at the idea that she was going to dance the first dance with the young lord, that she could think of nothing else. Mrs Dighton also felt very proud, and glanced around at her neighbours with a beaming face. She was pleased that they should see the honour which "her Annie" was about to receive; and in his somewhat thick-headed way her substantial husband also shared this feeling."John," She whispered in his ear, "do you see Mrs Boberts staring at our girls? My! they will be jealous about Lord Clair dancing first with our Annie."John grunted his assent, but being a man of few words said nothing."Annie is the prettiest girl in the room by far," Continued Mrs Dighton."Bar Miss Moore," quoth John."Indeed, John, I don't think you need run down your own children like that. Miss Moore isn't bad looking, but look at Annie's colour.""Ask Dick's opinion," Said John, with a grin.But further discussion on the respective attractions of really the two prettiest girls in the tent were cut short by Lord Clair's return."Now, Miss Dighton, I am ready at last." he said with a smile, offering his arm to Annie Dighton, who delightedly accepted it. "Come, Dighton, let us take our places?"Upon this Dick Dighton offered his arm to Miss Moore also, and these two followed Lord Clair and Annie Dighton to the head of the tent, and dancing speedily commenced."Who is the young lady your brother is dancing with, Miss Dighton?" Was the first question that Clair addressed to his pretty partner."0h, that is Eva Moore," Answered Annie, smiling. "She was at school with me, you

know, two years ago, at Ruth Kensington; at least I was at school, she added, "and Eva was a parlour boarder at the same time, and that's how I got to know her. Dick thinks her awfully handsome, do you?"Yes, she is handsome," Answered Lord Clair."Yes, most people think her very handsome; she is staying with us, and she likes being in the country, and I hope she will stay a little longer. The way she came to stay was she wrote to me that she was travelling past here, and should like to see me again. I knew her very well at school, and we have often written to each other since. How I knew her so well was we used to sing together at school; she has a beautiful voice."As the rustic little maiden chattered on in this artless fashion, to the delight of her mother, whose maternal eyes never left her, and who was inwardly congratulating herself on "how well Annie was getting on with his lordship," Clair's eyes again and again rested on the beautiful face opposite to him. It was of singular regularity, late, dark-eyed, and dark-haired, and with marked and delicate

brows. She was tall, slender, and graceful, and about her expression there was a certain indifference, a certain languor, as though she cared very little about what she was doing, and certainly did not care for the look of eager admiration on the face of her partner, young Dighton."Annie seems to be making up to the young lord at a fine rate," presently remarked young Dighton."Is she?" Answered Miss Moore, with just a little touch of weariness in her tone.Annie herself was perfectly delighted with the success of her dance and her conversation, and even after it was over and Lord Clair was conveying her back to her mother's side, when he said as they approached Mrs Dighton:--"Will you introduce me to your friend, Miss Dighton?" Annie was still quite charmed."Yes, to be sure," She answered, and accordingly she presented Clair to Eva Moore."Eva, this is Lord Clair," She said, and as she spoke Eva bowed her head coldly and gracefully."Will you dance with me the next dance; it is a waltz" Said Clair.Eva again simply bowed her head, and accepted the arm of the young lord as indifferently as she had accepted Dick Dighton's. But a moment or two later as they were dancing together a delicate flush rose to her fair cheeks, and her shining eyes grew less languid. She waltzed most gracefully, and Clair grew quite enthusiastic about her dancing."Pardon me," he said, in his frank, bright way, "but I little thought I should find such a partner as you this evening."Eva Moore smiled."Why?" She asked."You dance so beautifully; you are so different — to every one else."Again Eva smiled. They were standing to take breath now, and Clair's admiration for his beautiful partner was increasing every moment."You will dance with me again?" he said, eagerly, drawing out his programme. "May I have the fourth and the sixth, and any more you will give me?""I must not monopolise you.""I wish you would," Answered Clair, smiling. "Well, at all events, I will write

your name down for the fourth and the sixth?"She did not refuse; it seemed rather to amuse her the young lord's sudden and eager admiration. She declined to dance except with him during the rest of the evening. She sat calmly by Mrs Dighton's side, who began to fidget and feel uncomfortable when Lord Clair came a third time for her charge."I have been so impatient for this dance," he whispered as he led her away.Eva made no response to this. She danced with him as gracefully and as calmly as she had done the first time, and then presently when they paused, she looked up with her dark eyes in his face."Who is that girl sitting there?" She said. The little girl with the small features?""Oh, that's my cousin, Annette Gower," Answered Clair with a smile, and a somewhat conscious look. "I should have asked her to dance before—you make me forget everything, Miss Moore.""I thought she was some one different to the rest," replied Miss Moore, calmly, "and I saw her looking at us while we were dancing."The pretty, dark, small-featured fare that Eva Moore had remarked on had been growing paler and paler during the last hour, as Annette Gower had noticed the evident devotion of her cousin to the beautiful stranger. Clair had indeed forgotten all about his cousin Annette until Eva had recalled her to his mind. But after the dace was over he went up to her."How are you enjoying yourself, Annette?" he said, kindly. "The flaring is splendid for dancing, isn't it? Will you dance with me the next dance? I have been so much engaged I haven't had time to ask you before.The small, pretty face of his cousin flushed painfully as Clair thus addressed her."I have seen you dancing a great deal, she answered in a peculiarly sweet-toned voice."Oh, I must, you know; but come along, Annette, let us have a turn together now."She rose and danced with him, and presently asked him the name of his former dark-eyed partner."Who is that handsome girl you have danced several times with, Clair?" She said."Oh, that is a Miss Moore, a stranger here,

who is staying with the Dightons at Holly Hill; she waltzes splendidly, and seems a pleasant girl.""She is very handsome.""Yes, she's got wonderful eyes, hasn't she? Miss Dighton's rather pretty too.""But in a very different style.""Yes, the typical fair milkmaid, isn't she? But, come, let us take another turn, or I shall think you have turned lazy."So the cousins completed their dance together, and by-and-by Mrs Dighton saw with a beating heart Lord Clair once more approaching her little family group."He will surely ask Annie this time," Thought the fond mother.Annie, who had been dancing a good deal with their nearest country neighbours, and who was now sitting without a partner, hoped so too, and looked rather anxiously in Lord Clair's face as he drew near them.But, no; he went straight up to Eva Moore and said a few words in a low tone that Annie could not hear, and Eva at once rose and laid her hand lightly on his arm, and the two passed down the tent together.Dick Dighton scowled when he saw this, and Mrs Dighton could not suppress a sigh."His lordship is dancing a great deal with Miss Moore, Dick?" She said, somewhat uneasily."A great deal too much," Answered Dick, sullenly. "I say, mother, aren't you getting tired of this? I think it's quite time we were back home.""I am getting a little tired, dear," Answered Mrs Dighton, meekly."Then I'll see about the trap. Annie, you had better not dance any more, we are going away directly."In the meanwhile the two who were the real cause of this early home-going of the Dighton family had walked down the tent together, and when they came to the open entrance Clair suddenly perceived and pointed out the shining August moon overhead."Look what a splendid night it is, Miss Moore," he said. "Suppose we don't dance this time, but go out and breathe a little fresh air in the Park?""It would be refreshing, wouldn't it?"

answered Eva. "The tent has got rather warm.""Come, then; but you are not afraid of taking cold, are you?"Oh, no; I shall knot my handkerchief over my head."She suited her action to her words, and tied her delicate little lace handkerchief under her dainty chin. Then, still arm-in-arm, they went into the moonlit Park, crossing the dewy grass until they came to one of the side paths, and there Eva suddenly stopped and looked around at the lovely silvered sylvan scene."How beautiful!" She exclaimed, stretching out her arms, and drawing a long breath as though to inhale the fragrance of the night. "Can't you imagine the fairies holding their revels here, Lord Clair?"Clair laughed a low, soft laugh."What music do they dance their reels to, I wonder, Miss Moore?" he said."To the sough of the wind through the trees, to the gurgle of the stream," She answered in a semi-theatrical tone. "Hark! don't you hear it—the sound of falling water?""That is the Ayre; the river runs past the end of the Park, you know.""Listen—I hear it so plainly," went on Eva Moore; and she raised her head as she spoke, and the moonlight shone full on her beautiful face, on which Clair's eyes were fixed. "Ah —it is lovely here," She continued; "like a dream.""I shall never forget tonight," Said Clair in a low, almost passionate tone.
 His voice and manner instantly changed her mood."Oh, yes, you will," She said, lightly."I am sure I will not," Answered Clair.But any further conversation between them was now interrupted. A sound of footsteps was heard, and a minute later the tall rather slouching figure of Dick Dighton emerged into the moonlight."I have come to seek you, Miss Moore, he said, somewhat roughly, as he approached them; "father and mother are waiting for you to go; they are in the trap already.""What, so soon, Dighton?" exclaimed Clair. "Oh, you mustn't go yet?""Yes, my lord, we must; so, Miss Moore, if

you'll take my arm, I'll take you to the trap.""Nay, I must see Miss Moore safely back into Mrs Dighton's charge," Said Lord Clair, drawing Eva's arm through his, and thus he led her to where the family equipage of the Dightons was standing at the back of the tent ready to start.Stout, comely Mrs Dighton was already seated in the dog-cart by her husband's side, and Annie Dighton was on the back seat. Mrs Dighton felt unhappy in her mind, for she "didn't like young girls wandering about with gentlemen at this time o' night," She had confided to her husband. Therefore, when the three — Eva, Clair, and Dick Dighton — approached the dog-cart they were received in silence.But Clair's pleasant, courteous manner soon made it all right."I am sorry you are going so soon, Mrs Dighton," he said, "And
thank you so much for coming. Good night;" And then he shook hands
with them all, and last with Eva Moore.CHAPTER II.
FIRE.CLAIR returned to the tent after the Dightons' departure, but somehow he had lost his interest in the dancing. And presently he whispered to the agent of the property, who was present, a pleasant-looking, middle-aged man, that he wished be would take his place."Mr Jepson, will you kindly see after every one and keep up the dancing," he said "for I notice my cousin Miss Gower looks rather tired, and I think I had better take her home.""I will do my best, my lord," Answered Mr Jepson, smilingly."That's all right, then; I'll just go away quietly. You see, it's been rather a long day.""Certainly; but a most successful one, my lord."The young lord just nodded his head pleasantly at the implied compliment, and then went up to the bench on which his cousin, Annette Gower, was seated."Annette, you look most awfully tired," he said, "So I am going to take you home."Annette rose quietly and took her cousin's arm, and they left the tent together, and speedily found themselves at the entrance of Kilmore Hall."Where is Lady Kilmore?" Asked Clair of one of the servants as they went in."Her ladyship is in the small drawing-room, my lord," Answered the footman."Come along, then, Annette, and let us tell her all about the dance," Said Clair, and Annette Gower followed him, without speaking, up the wide staircase to a room fitted up with wonderful luxury and taste.It was Lady Kilmore's favourite room, and opened by folding doors into the large drawing-room beyond. But these were nearly always kept closed, and the smaller room had an entrance from the front corridor of its own. A little ante-room led to this, which, with his quick, light step, Clair soon crossed, and then

found himself in the presence of his father and mother.They both looked up with a smile to greet him. Lord Kilmore was sitting in a divan chair reading the newspapers by the light of a shaded lamp near him; and Lady Kilmore, also in an easy chair, was reading a novel by the table which held the lamp."Well, Clair, and how has the dance gone off?" She asked, laying down her book."Oh, splendidly, mother; it was the greatest fun," he answered."And you enjoyed yourself?" Went on Lady Kilmore, smilingly."Immensely! I asked the portly Mrs Dighton for the first dance, but she handed me over to her daughter, and so Miss Dighton had the honour of opening the ball.""And you, Annette," Said Lady Kilmore, looking at her niece, who was standing a little behind Clair, "did you enjoy yourself too?""Oh, yes, very much," replied the sweet-voiced Annette, but the instant Lady Kilmore heard her tone she knew all was not well with the girl."Well, my dears, I told Gregson to have

dinner ready for you when you came in, so I think you had better go and get it now.""I should rather have some tea, please, Aunt Jeanie," Said Annette."Very well, dear, I will ring for it; and you, Clair?"Oh, I am going to have some dinner," Answered Clair with a laugh; and a few moments later he left the room, and Lady Kilmore's eyes followed him as he turned to go."How happy he looks!" She said, addressing her husband."He is at a happy age," replied Lord Kilmore, with a good-natured little shrug.Clair felt not only happy, but excited. After he had dined he went back to the small drawing-room beside his father and mother, and chatted on brightly until they retired for the night. Annette Cower had said she was tired, and had gone to bed early; and Clair, though he talked about the dance, made no allusion to his principal partner.Then after his father and mother had left him he went up to his smoking-room, which was situated in one of the wings of the house.

He lit a cigarette, opened the window, and leaned out, looking vaguely at the moonlight flooding the grounds and the Park beyond. He scarcely knew how long he leant there. A white-robed vision seemed to be floating before him, and a pair of dark, lustrous, languid eyes shining into his.Far away in the moonlight he could see the green hill, which had suddenly become of intense interest to him; the green hill on which stood Mr Dighton's house, and where at this moment he pictured to himself the beautiful girl he had danced with, sleeping and smiling in her dreams.Her image presented itself so vividly to his mind that it seemed almost like reality."What a fool I am!" he cried, presently, starting up and beginning to pace the room. Up and down he went in his unrest, and then returned to the window; returned to gaze at the moonlit distance; at the haze which was rising from the low lands, and enveloping in white and misty shadows the higher grounds.Suddenly through this mist a red glow shone. Clair looked at this curiously, and wondered what it could be. Presently it was reflected

against the sky, and then a moment or two later, as Clair gazed, a flame shot up through the red glow, and he realised it was a fire. A fire at Holly Hill! An exclamation burst from his lips, and then he quickly hurried from the room. As he ran swiftly down the staircase he encountered one of the footmen putting out the lights."There is a fire broken out at Holly Hill, I believe," he said to the man. "I am going to see; give the alarm, and tell some of the men to follow me, as we may be able to give some help.""Yes, my lord," Answered the man, and then Clair hurried on.They were locking up for the night in the hall as he passed through it, and in a few hasty words Clair told the news, and then went out into the night. It was past twelve o'clock now, and the fire was distinctly visible outside. The red glow had become brighter, and as Clair ran on down the avenue now and again a flame darted forth, each moment with increasing brilliancy.Clair knew every inch of the road and went by the river path, which was the nearest, and

as he approached the homestead on Holly Hill he saw that the whole building appeared to be on fire. Dense masses of smoke were rising, lit by the lurid light of the flames, and he heard voices calling, and saw dusky figures running hither and thither.In another minute he had reached the garden gate in front of the house, and in the garden he perceived an affrighted group of several women.A moment later he was amongst them, and Annie Dighton recognised him. She was clinging to her mother, but when she saw Clair she ran towards him."Oh! Lord Clair!" She cried in a voice broken with tears, "Isn't this dreadful! Eva Moore is still in the house, and we cannot get to her! Dick has tried twice, and is terribly burnt, poor fellow, with trying — he is lying there—but the staircase is on fire. 0h! what shall we do? And the poor girl wrung her hands in her despair."Which is her room?" Asked Clair, hoarsely and briefly."That—there, look" Said Annie, eagerly, seizing him by the arm and pointing to a room

in the second storey of the house. "She's been at the window, poor thing, and called for help, but what—what can we do?"Is there no ladder? I will go up," Said Clair, looking round.Then half a dozen voices called out there was a ladder, but it would not nearly reach the second storey."Bring a cart" Cried Clair, "that will help with the height, and for the rest I think I can scramble up."The farm servants ran to obey the young lord, who in the meantime had called for and obtained a rope, which he fastened round his waist."If she is in her senses," he said to Annie Dighton, who was following him, "I can throw the rope to her, and then scramble in at the window, if she has strength to hold it tight. Ah! there she is at the window—she sees us, and here comes the cart."Not a moment was now lost; the cart was drawn up to the burning house by willing hands, and the one ladder available apparently was placed in it and erected. It did not yet nearly reach the storey where the woman's

form was to be seen bending eagerly out of the open window, but still the cart, of course, raised it considerably."Now hold the ladder steadily and fast," Said Clair to two of the young farm servants who had brought the cart round, and were now in it, after raising the ladder. "Remember the lady's life depends on you."And as he said this he also sprang into the cart, and the next moment commenced ascending the ladder with swift, sure footsteps.It was a terrible moment, for when he reached the topmost rung many feet still parted him from the window from which bent the white face of Eva Moore. But Clair was wonderfully calm."I will throw you the rope, Miss Moore," he called; "Try to catch it, and fasten it to some heavy piece of furniture, and I will scramble up by it, and then I can let you down to the ladder.""If you throw it I will try," Answered Eva Moore's voice, which was distinctly heard even amid the roar and the crackle of the flames.Then Clair threw the rope up which he had bound round his waist, and Eva bent eagerly

forward with bare outstretched arms to catch it, but missed it by a hair's breadth."We must try again," Cried Clair.Again he threw it up, and again the poor girl failed to seize the one frail chance to save her life. But Clair was still calm."Try once more," he said, and this time she caught the rope, and a ringing cheer from below at once told this."Now fasten it securely round something," Called Clair."I can hold it," Answered Eva; "there is no time to be lost. The room is on fire!"And this actually was so. Flames were licking the door with their fierce tongues, and the heat and smoke was terrible. But with an extraordinary effort of courage and calmness, Eva Moore rolled the rope which she held round one of her white arms, and held fast by the window frame."It is steady now," She said; "can you struggle up by it?"Clair was young, lithe, and active, and with the aid of the rope he scrambled up to the open window, and there Eva Moore caught him by the arm and helped him in."Thank God! I hope I can save you now," Said Clair, breathlessly.She did not speak; she slightly shuddered, for the strain upon her arm during Clair's ascent had been terrible."Come, you must not lose courage now," he said, taking her hand.Again she shuddered and glanced back at the flaming door."It is only a chance," She faltered, "but you have risked your life
for mine, Lord Clair."CHAPTER III.
SUNNY BROW.EVEN in this hour of extreme danger these words of Eva Moore's sent a thrill through the young lord's heart."I would risk a hundred lives," he answered; "but we have not a moment to lose. See, let me wrap you in this."And as he spoke he caught a woollen rug from the bed, which was not yet alight, and put it round Eva's form, who was just as she had started from her sleep, when she had been awakened by the smell of fire, which had burnt the staircase leading to her room before doing any great damage to the rest of the house.Thus the other inmates had escaped, though only with their lives, and on learning that Eva

Moore was confined in her room Dick Dighton had made two desperate efforts to rescue her by ascending the burning staircase; and during the second of these efforts the staircase had fallen in, and young Dighton had been dangerously injured.He was lying in the garden helpless, covered with a blanket, when Clair arrived on the scene, and had watched with the rest the young man's gallant attempt to save the imprisoned girl. So far Clair had succeeded; he at all events had reached her, but whether he could save her yet remained a matter of painful doubt. But he kept his presence of mind, and after wrapping the rug round Eva proceeded to fasten the rope he had brought with him tightly around her waist."It is the one chance," he said, quickly and decidedly; you can't reach the ladder without it. I will lower you down by it, and you must try not to be afraid, and when once you reach the ladder you are safe.""And you?" Asked Eva, in a trembling voice."We must think of you first; after you are all right some of the fellows will throw me the rope up again, and I can swing myself down to

the ladder by it. Come, Miss Moore, take courage; mount on the window-sill, and I will steadily lower you down by the rope until your feet rest on the ladder."Then again he tried the rope fastened round Eva's slender waist, to see that it was quite safely secured."It is all right," he said. "Now let me help you out of the window; it will only be a few moments, and then you will be safe."Eva looked from the window and shuddered, but she saw it was the one chance. More men were in the cart below now, and one young fellow had partly ascended the ladder so as to assist the lady in reaching it after her perilous descent."That is right," Cried Clair, from the window, to the young man on the ladder; "come up as high as you can, and take hold of the lady as soon as she nears the ladder, and guide her to it. Now, Miss Moore, take courage; do not be afraid."He raised her as he spoke, and with the rope firmly twisted round his own arm, and securely attached to her, he gently let her

down from the window, and for a moment or two she dangled in mid-airThose below in the cart and the garden held their breath, and Eva clung with frantic hands to the rope, and closed her eyes in her great terror. But it did not last long; the young man on the ladder soon caught her bare white feet, and guided them to the top-most rung. Then he held her fast, and Eva began to descend the ladder, assisted by the young man who was behind her. But when she was half-way down she suddenly stopped. The rope round her waist had slightly jerked, and this recalled her mind from her own peril to that of her preserver's."Unfasten the rope round me now," She said to the young man who was holding her. "We must leave it with Lord Clair; it is his only chance; the room is on fire, and he must escape at once."The man hesitated a moment, but he saw the truth of what Eva Moore had said, and so stood still, and contrived to unfasten the rope round Eva's waist, calling up at the same time to Lord Clair to hold it fast."The lady is safe now, sir," he said.

"I've undone the rope, and you must let yourself down by it."Thus the rope was left in Clair's hands, who, however, watched Eva Moore safely in the cart below before he thought of his own peril. Then he turned and looked round for some heavy piece of furniture to which to attach the rope so as to swing himself clown by it. Half blinded by the smoke and heat, he fastened it to the small brass bed where Eva had been sleeping when she awoke to her danger. This bed he dragged nearer the window, and then looking out saw that the young man who had helped Eva was again ascending the ladder in the cart."She's safe on the ground, sir," he called up. "Now swing yourself down and I'll catch hold of you,"Clair promptly followed this advice. He was brave and daring, but to feel yourself hanging in the air, with considerable doubts as to whether the little brass bedstead would stand the strain of the rope, was not a pleasant experience; and he certainly felt a thrill of pleasure when he felt his legs grasped by the stalwart hands of the young man on the

ladder. Then he knew he was all right, and did not need the cheers from below to tell him so. In a few moments more he was in the cart, and the next had leapt to the ground.There his hand was grasped first by the farmer, Mr Dighton, who had tears in his honest eyes."God bless you, my lord," he said, "for what you have done in saving the poor lass; why, you had more sense than any of us.""I am very happy to have been of some use, Mr Dighton," Said Clair, heartily returning the farmer's hand-shake; and then he looked round for Eva Moore, and as he did so a shrouded figure advanced toward him."Thank you for my life, Lord Clair," Said Eva's voice, and for a moment she placed her hand in his."I am but too happy—" he faltered, but the next moment both his hands were seized, one by Mrs Dighton and the other by her daughter Annie."Oh, my lord!" Cried Mrs Dighton tear-fully, "I don't know how to thank you. You know my poor Dick tried—he failed, poor fellow, but that wasn't his fault—and now but

for you this poor girl would have been burned alive!"I shall never forget it! It was noble," Sobbed Annie, and then she turned and kissed again Eva Moore's pale face.But Eva said nothing more. She stood wrapped in the rug that Clair had placed round her in the burning room, and amid all the exclamations and the tears, she only was silent, and her eyes were dry."Well, thank God, the horses and the cows are safe, poor beasts," ejaculated the farmer, who had found time to look after his live stock."But oh! to think of all my things!" Wept Mrs Dighton. "My lord, most of the furniture—the beds and that—were my mother's, and to think they are all gone! And we had just recovered the drawing-room chairs; and my gowns and my velvet mantle—oh, I have nothing left!""Come, mother, you have the children, and no lives are lost," Said the sturdy farmer, laying his hand consolingly on his wife's broad shoulder."Yes, that's true, John," Answered poor Mrs Dighton,

drying her eyes; "but still to lose everything — all the linen, and I had such a good stock; and—and there's poor Dick!"And again Mrs Dighton wept aloud."Where is your son?" Asked Clair, kindly. "I hope he's not seriously hurt.""He's—lying propped up against the arbour," Sobbed Mrs Dighton. "We've sent for Dr Davidson, and one of the cottagers gave me a blanket to cover him.""I will go and speak to him," Said Clair, and accordingly he went in the direction of the arbour, which was at one side of the garden. He found young Dighton propped up, as his mother said, against the trellis-work of the arbour."I am sorry you are hurt, Dighton," Said Clair, bending down and addressing the prostrate young man. "I hope you are not suffering much pain?"A half groan broke from Dick Dighton's lips. "I'm burned a good deal, I'm afraid," he answered: "but—you saved Miss Moore?""I helped, at least; but you did far more than I did. But you mustn't lie here, Dighton.

Ah, I see one of our people over there, and I'll send him back to the Hall for a carriage, and the sooner you get there the better. Any father and mother will, I am sure, be most happy to give you all shelter.""It is very kind of you, my lord.""Not at all; I will send the servant for the carriage and then come back to you."And as he spoke Clair beckoned to the servant from the Hall and gave him directions."Tell the coachman to send two close carriages," he said; then he went back to where Mrs Dighton and Annie and Eva were standing.But the group had now received several additions. These consisted of the wife and two daughters of a neighbouring farmer, who, having heard of the Dightons' misfortunes, had come to offer them shelter and assistance. It was the very Mrs Richards of Sunny Brow whom Mrs Dighton had thought was jealous of Annie at the dance who had now come on this neighbourly mission."You must just all come home with us, Mrs Dighton, "She was urging as Clair approached the group, "And I and the girls will do the best we can for you. You must take pot-luck.""Thank you kindly," Wept poor Mrs Dighton, "but there's so many of us.""Never mind; you'll have a roof over your heads at Sunny Brow, anyhow." At this moment Clair spoke."Forgive me interrupting you," he said, "but I have just been telling your son, Mrs Dighton, that I am sure, if you will take shelter at the Hall, my father and mother will be very much pleased.""Oh! I could not think of intruding, my lord," Answered Mrs Dighton; "here is Mrs Richards kind enough to offer to give us shelter for the night.""At all events, let your son come with me; he will need a good deal of care, and I have ordered two carriages to come from the Hall, one for him, and the other I hope you will use.""Indeed, you're most good, my lord, more than good," Said Mrs Dighton, much pleased. "As I've been telling Mrs Richards, I'm sure I do not know how to thank you.""It was so brave!" murmured one of the Miss Richards."So noble!" Whispered the other."Heroic!" Sighed Annie Dighton.But no word came from the shrouded figure on which Clair's eyes were fixed.Clair smiled and bowed in answer to the compliments of the young ladies, but as he did so a new excitement arose.This was at the late arrival of the fire-engine that had been sent for to the nearest town. The horses came galloping up the hill to the house; the men in brass helmets on the engine shouting their orders, and water from the river was soon brought to bear upon the burning house. Mrs Dighton's hopes rose as she saw the effect of the excellent supply of water."It mayn't have reached the linen-press," She said hopefully."Are you cold? You are not frightened now, when you were so brave before?" Clair took the opportunity of saying in a low tone to Eva Moore when everyone else was looking at the fire-engine and the firemen."I am a little cold," She answered, and again she slightly shivered, which faint movement Clair had noticed before. But the truth was that her arm, round which she had wrapped the rope to help Clair into the window of the burning room, was paining her severely. The

delicate white flesh had been absolutely cut in places by the rough hemp."The carriages will be here directly, and then you will get shelter and rest," Went on Clair. "I hope Mrs Dighton will consent for you all to go to the Hall.""You are very kind, Lord Clair."One of the Miss Richards looked round, and seeing the young lord talking to Miss Moore, made a step backwards and joined in the conversation. She remarked on the utility of fire-engines and the utility of firemen. She had never spoken to Lord Clair before, and she was very glad now to have the opportunity of doing so. Thus as far as she could she made herself very agreeable.It never struck her that Clair would have much preferred to talk to Eva alone. And presently her sister joined them, and she was equally talkative. They were dark, sensible-looking, but not pretty girls, with a fair amount of brains. Their mother, who was an excellent manager of a household, now bustled up."Well, my dears," She said, "Mrs Dighton and I have settled it all. Dr Davidson is here, and poor Dick Dighton is worse than we thought,

so, my lord," And she addressed Clair, "the doctor thinks that as you so kindly offered to take him in, that he had better be taken to the Hall, as, of course, at Sunny Brow we shall be very short of room.""That is much the best plan, and I shall see about it at once," Answered Clair. "And Miss Dighton and Miss Moore had better come too.""No, my lord; Mrs Dighton and I think not," Said Mrs Richards in her decided way. "You see Mrs Dighton does not like to be separated from poor Dick when he is so bad, so if your lordship and her ladyship will give her house-room also for a day or so, I will take charge of the girls. My girls, I know, will not mind a pinch to help neighbours, and we'll be very glad to have them at Sunny Brow."Thus it was settled. Poor Dick Dighton's arm was found to be broken by the doctor, besides the severe burns he was suffering from, therefore he, Mrs Dighton, and the doctor started together in one of the carriages which had arrived from the Hall.In the other Mrs Richards, her two daughters, Annie Dighton, and Eva Moore were conveyed

to Sunny Brow, which was the neighbouring farm to Holly Hill, the river Ayre dividing the lands.Clair handed in the party for Sunny Brow, took off his cap, and bade them good-night. He then drove on the box-seat of the other carriage to the Hall, where the party were expected, as the news of the fire at Holly Hill had now reached the ears of Lord and Lady Kilmore, who had been aroused by the unusual stir in the house, and had rung their bell to inquire the cause.Then they heard of the fire, and Clair's ascent into the burning house, and Lady Kilmore rose tremblingly, and when Clair and the others arrived from Holly Hill, his mother was up waiting to receive him. He ran upstairs when he heard this, and Lady Kilmore, pale, excited, and frightened, clasped him in her arms."Clair!" She cried, "my dear, dear Clair, how could you run such a dreadful risk?"There wasn't much risk, mother," he answered, as he affectionately kissed her; "but who has been telling you anything?""James brought word that you had risked

your life to save someone. Oh, my dear, fancy if anything had happened to you!""That's all right; but, mother, something very bad did happen to young Dighton, and I have brought him and his mother here and the doctor, as there was no place to put him at Holly Hill, and I knew you would take him in.""Of course, dearest. Ring up the house-keeper if she is not up, and tell her to prepare rooms and beds for them, and do everything to make them comfortable. Is the young man much hurt?""Badly burned and his arm broken, poor fellow. But I must go and see after him. I am sorry they disturbed you, mother.""My darling!" She whispered, and again she laid her soft smooth cheek against his. Then Clair hurried away and had an interview with the housekeeper, and saw that everything was done to make his unexpected guests comfortable for the night.Mrs Dighton had a room next her son's; and the doctor, after attending to his patient, was accommodated with a bedroom.In the meanwhile at Sunny Brow the

Richards family were doing their best also for their neighbours. Jane and Fanny Richards gave up their room to Annie Dighton and Eva Moore, and retired to an attic, where they spent this first night without any grumbling or complaining as to the lack of their usual comforts. But it is astonishing how soon poor human nature misses these, and grudges them to others. We do kindly and generous things very often on the spur of the moment which we afterwards repent of. It is when the shoe pinches that we dislike wearing it.The Misses Richards found in the morning that everything they wanted was downstairs in their usual bed-room. It was inconvenient, to say the least of it, and Fanny remarked to Jane—"It's really an awful bother having those girls there.""Well, we'll just have to do as best we can. I suppose they won't stay long," Answered Jane.Nevertheless at breakfast-time they were both very agreeable to their young guests, and at Annie Dighton's request lent some necessary garments to Eva Moore, whose whole wardrobe was lost. They also lent her a pretty white

morning gown, and when breakfast was over took her over the place, which was an old-fashioned picturesque farmhouse, the porch in front being covered with roses and jasmine. Annie Dighton felt anxious about her brother Dick, and wondered if her father or mother would come to tell her how he was going on. But Mr Dighton, who had remained at Holly Hill during the night looking after his property, was too busy, and Mrs Dighton was unable to leave her son.But about twelve o'clock, while Annie and Eva were still strolling amid the old-fashioned garden, and admiring the old-fashioned flowers, a visitor appeared at the gate, which was no other than Lord Clair."Oh! Eva, here is Lord Clair," Said Annie in a low, fluttering tone, laying her hand on Eva's arm.Eva winced, for her arm was still very tender where the rope had hurt it."Oh! I'm so sorry. I forgot about your arm, dear," Cried Annie repentantly."It's no matter," Smiled Eva, and the smile still lingered on her face when she held out her hand to welcome Lord Clair."Good-morning," he said, taking off his cap and bowing his good-looking head; "I am very happy to see that you are well enough to be out this morning."She was bare-headed, standing in the sun-light with her pure cream-like skin, and her dark shining eyes raised to the young lord's face."Oh, but I don't think she is very well, Lord Clair," Said Annie, whose blushes were bathing the blooming face for which her mother had so great an admiration. "Her arm is awfully hurt.""Your arm hurt?" Asked Clair quickly "how is that?"A soft wave of colour rose to Eva's face."It was chafed by the rope, that is all," She answered."By the rope?" repeated Clair. "How did it touch your arm? It was round your waist.""It was before," Said Eva; "but do not let us speak of it, I want to forget it.""I shall never forget it," Answered Clair earnestly."Nor I. But let us talk of something else," And Eva turned away her head as if the subject was painful."And Dick, Lord Clair?" Asked Annie. "How is he?""I have seen him this morning, and he is doing fairly well, and is fairly cheerful; but he had a restless night. Dr Davidson stayed at the Hall all night, you know, and saw your brother, of course, this morning. He thinks your brother will be all right presently, but it will take a little time.""Poor Dick!" Sighed Annie."Your mother sent her love, and will come and see you when she can; but had you not better go to the Hall to see her?""You are very good; but I hardly like," blushed Annie."Why not? If you and Miss Moore will go now, I will escort you there," Went on Clair.Eva gave a low laugh."Annie must go alone," She said, "for I am in the unhappy condition of having nothing to wear.""You do not mean to say---""Everything I have on is borrowed; when you came I was just going to write to town for an outfit, and when it arrives I must leave

Sunny Brow, for it must be very inconvenient to Mrs Richards and her daughters to have a stranger like me here.""Oh, no, Eva, I am sure it is not," Said Annie."My dear, I know the world a little better than you do. You are an old friend of the Richards, but to have me thrown on their hands, without rhyme or reason, except neighbourly charity, is a very different thing. So as soon as ever I receive my garments from town, I will go.""I wonder if all our thing are really burnt" Said Annie, a little wistfully."Suppose we go across to Holly Hill and see," Answered Clair quickly. "I hope you have not lost everything, Miss Moore, but at all events, we had better learn.""Well, I should like to know, certainly, smiled Eva; "I had one or two rings I should not like to lose, but the same reason that I told you of before, Lord Clair, prevents my going—I have no hat!""Oh, either Jane or Fanny Richards will lend you one, I am sure," Said Annie eagerly; "I'll run in and ask them, if you like?""Will you? That's a good girl, and a little handkerchief or scarf to knot round my neck, if you can get one.""I'll go at once, Eva," And as she spoke Annie Dighton hurried away towards the house, and left Eva Moore and Clair standing together in the sunny garden.He felt embarrassed, but after a moment's silence Eva raised her dark eyes and looked in his face."It is very pleasant and peaceful here, isn't it?" She said."Oh, yes—about your arm, Miss Moore? Was it hurt when you helped me into the window?"Yes. I had not time to tie the rope to anything, so I wrapped it round my arm, and, of course, the strain—oh, don't look so horrified; it was a stupid thing to do.""And it was I who hurt you—I---""Please do not worry about it; the pain is nearly gone," Interrupted Eva. "See, it is nothing dreadful," And as she spoke she pushed back the sleeve of her white gown and bared an arm, lovely alike in form and colouring, except where the cruel rope had marred its beauty.Clair gave an exclamation of horror when he saw the marks."How dreadful! I did this, and you never cried out or uttered a word," he said, taking hold of her slender wrist.Again Eva laughed her low, rather peculiar laugh."I have borne worse pain than that without a cry," She said. "But,"
She added, and she pulled down her sleeve as she spoke, "here comes
Annie with the hat, so let us drop the arm.CHAPTER IV.ACROSS THE RIVER.ANNIE DIGHTON returned not only with a large, coquettish-looking hat, but a long black lace scarf, which Eva rolled round her white throat, and which admirably became her. Then she put on the hat."Now am I presentable to walk abroad?" She said, looking smilingly first at Annie and then at Clair."You look awfully well in the hat," Cried Annie.Clair said nothing, but his grey eyes expressed much more than many words."She is lovely, she is perfect," he was thinking, and perhaps Eva guessed something of his thoughts, for she turned away."Come, let us go," She said. "I wonder,"

she continued, stooping down and gathering a crimson carnation from one of the borders by which they were standing, "If I might steal a flower?"She plucked it and placed it in the folds of the black lace round her throat, asking Annie for a pin to fasten it there."Do you like flowers?" Asked Clair eagerly."No, I don't like them," She answered, smiling "I love them.""May I bring you some then" Said Clair."Never ask a woman that if you wish her to refuse, Lord Clair.""But I do not wish her to refuse," he answered, smilingly also. "Have I permission then?""Yes; but we are wasting our time. Come, Annie, let us go and see if the flames have spared any of our belongings. Which way do we turn after we leave here?""We go straight down the hill through the cornfields until we come to the bridge across the Ayre," Said Clair. "Were you ever in this part of the country before, Miss Moore?"Never.""And you like country life?""For a change, yes; we all like change, don't you think?""Not in everything, surely?""Yes, I believe, in everything," Said Eva, throwing back her head with a little laugh; "In dress, in love, in scenery, in friends—I hope I am not shocking you, Lord Clair?""Yes, I am very much shocked, only I am sure you do not mean what you say?""How can you tell?" Asked Eva, looking at him straight."Because I judge by—your appearance.""Oh! but appearances are very deceitful."By this time they had reached the garden gate, which Clair opened, and from thence proceeded to a narrow walk by the side of the farmer's corn-fields, in which the ripe and yellow grain stood bound in sheaves ready to be garnered. It was a bright and cheery day, the blue sky flecked with white clouds, and a light fresh wind blowing from the east. It stirred the yellow sheaves; it blew in the faces of the three young people descending the corn-clad hill, at the foot of which the river Ayre swept on sparkling in the sun. A one-arched stone bridge spanned the stream, on the parapet of

which a rustic fisherman was seated, rod in hand, who, however, hastily decamped at the sight of the young lord, as the water was pre-served."There is one of those rascally poachers," said Clair, as the fisherman hastily disappeared at the other end of the bridge. "Are you fond of fishing, Miss Moore?""I never tried.""I'm very fond of it," Said Annie Dighton, who felt herself being somewhat neglected."We must teach Miss Moore to fish, Miss Dighton," Answered Clair."Where, when, and how?" Asked Eva, with a laugh."Today, tomorrow, any time," retorted Clair, also with a laugh.Eva shook her head."No, it would be useless," She said; "my stay here will be very brief, and after that---""Where do you go?" Asked Clair eagerly."I can scarcely tell you; I wander about, hither and thither.""But you have a settled home?""I live mostly in town; but I have no settled home."Clair felt he could ask no more questions, but he was very much disappointed at the answers he had received. Miss Moore had certainly given him no encouragement regarding her future plans; but with a certain fitful coquettishness of her nature, after walking on a few steps in silence Eva Moore suddenly stopped when just about the middle of the arch of the bridge, and leaned against the moss-grown parapet, fixing her dark eyes on the deep gurgling stream below."I like the sound of the water," She said "do you remember we talked of it last evening, Lord Clair, before---""Yes, before your great danger," Answered Clair, now also leaning his arms on the parapet by her side."Before you saved my life," said Eva in a low tone, still with her eyes fixed on the water.Clair did not speak for a moment or two. The river ran on; the wind eddied round the green hill opposite, on which stood the blackened homestead of Holly Hill, and Annie Dighton was looking over the opposite side of the parapet of the bridge; and a strong wave

of feeling, an emotion he could not subdue, suddenly swept through the young man's heart."You say I saved your life," he said," And yet---"Yes," Answered Eva, still without raising her head as he paused."And yet just now you spoke as if you did not wish to see me again?""I did not mean that," Said Eva, without lifting her eyes from the gurgling water; "I meant that in all likelihood we shall never meet again after I go from here.""But why? If I knew where you were we should certainly meet."Then Eva did look round, and fixed her wonderful eyes on the young lord's face."You think so today," She said, smiling: "We had a romantic first meeting. I am indebted to you for what most of people think a great boon—life. The scene is pretty, and you are young! In a month you will have forgotten my existence!""You are perfectly and utterly mistaken. I shall never forget your existence—nor you—nor the circumstances when I was happy

enough to be of use to you; and therefore I wish---""To carry on an acquaintance that can do you no good? Remember I warn you!" And again she smiled."For good or evil, then, I take the risk," Said Clair ardently. "Will you promise when you go from here to let me know where I shall see you again?"For a moment Eva did not speak. Her lustrous eyes fell; her white dark-fringed eye-lids drooped, she gave a little quivering sigh."Will you promise?" urged Clair."Yes," She answered, and then she turned and looked at Annie Dighton."Annie!" She cried; "come, let us go on; we are wasting the time.""You have made me very happy," Whispered Lord Clair, which remark Eva however entirely ignored.But as they walked up the hill towards the homestead she talked brightly, almost gaily. Annie Dighton felt, on the other hand, rather depressed. She was not a clever girl, but she had sense enough to see that Lord Clair took

no notice of her, except from politeness, while he so evidently admired Eva Moore."And I introduced them," reflected Annie, and she repressed a sigh.At length they reached the homestead, and stood in front of the blackened house. The fire was now entirely extinguished, but some of the firemen and one or two rural policemen were engaged in removing the debris. The roof had fallen in at the part of the house where Eva Moore's room had been situated, and when she saw this she gave a little shudder.Then she looked at Lord Clair, and their eyes met. They were both thinking "a few minutes later" And involuntarily he bent nearer to her."Thank God!" he murmured."That you were in time" Said Eva, as if she read his thoughts."Yes."But at this moment their presence was perceived by Mr Dighton, the farmer, who had spent the night at Holly Hill, sleeping for a short time in one of the labourer's cottages. Now he was busy looking after the welfare of
 
his live stock, which had mercifully been all saved.But when he saw Lord Clair, his daughter, and Eva Moore standing at the garden gate, he hurried out of his fold-yard to meet them."Well, my lord, after all it's not so bad as it might have been," he said, heartily shaking the hand Clair held out to greet him. "And how are you, my dears?"And he kissed his daughter and shook Eva's hand."We have come to see if the flames have left us anything to put on, Mr Dighton," Said Eva, smiling.The farmer looked round at the house and shook his head."It's a bad business for you, my dear, I'm afraid," he said. "You see the roof fell in over your room, and but for you, my lord.---""Of course everything is gone then?" Interrupted Eva hastily, as the farmer paused."All your dresses and fal-lals and the chairs and everything are clean gone; but one of the firemen picked up this ring among the rubbish" And the farmer produced a diamond ring, the gold of which was somewhat blackened, from

his pocket. "Is it yours? There's a name engraved inside—Eva Temple I think it is!"A sudden flush rose on Era's creamlike skin."It is mine," She said, quickly taking the ring from Mr Dighton's hand. "Thank you, Mr Dighton.""Was Temple your mother's name, then? asked the farmer.For a moment she hesitated; then without looking up she replied in a monosyllable:"Yes," She said, and Lord Clair wondered why she blushed so deeply
at her mother's name.CHAPTER V.A POSIE."TEMPLE! Oh! that's a pretty name," exclaimed Annie Dighton, who had also noticed with surprise the deep and sudden blush which had spread over Eva's face."Do you think so?" She answered coldly, and she put the ring in the pocket of her dress as she spoke, and turned away.And during the rest of their stay at the homestead she was very silent. Mr Dighton would not allow them to go very near or enter the parts of the house that were comparatively injured, as he said it was unsafe, until the whole building had been properly examined. Therefore they gained nothing by their visit except the diamond ring, which seemed to have had a strangely depressing

influence on Eva Moore. Presently the farmer pulled out his great silver watch and said it was getting on to one o'clock."Oh! Eva, and the Richards dine at one!" Cried Annie; "we must really be going.""I am quite ready to go," Answered Eva. "Good-bye, Lord Clair," And she held out her hand."Oh, I shall see you back part of the way to Sunny Brow," he answered."But it is out of your way.""Not at all. I shall escort you across the bridge at all events."So they bade the farmer good-bye, and went down the green hill together, but Eva's spirits were not so bright as when they had ascended it. And at the bridge she stopped and again bade Lord Clair good-bye."We must make haste," She said, "or we shall get into the bad graces of Mrs Richards if her mutton is over-roasted.""Oh! Eva," smiled Annie, deprecatingly, a little shocked that such a speech should have been made before Lord Clair.But Clair laughed and lingered, and at last said—"When shall I see you again?"Eva gave her shoulders a little shrug."We must leave it to fate," She said."No, fate is too fickle," Answered Clair, smiling. "Will you two young ladies walk down here this afternoon and meet me at the bridge?""What do you say, Annie" Said Eva, looking at her companion. "It will be something to do.""I shall be very pleased," Smiled Annie."Shall we bring the Miss Richards too?" Asked Eva, a little archly.Again Clair laughed."I shall leave that to your judgment," he said. "But you will come, and I shall not forget the flowers.""Now you may be sure we will come," said Eva, smiling; and then with a little nod she turned away, and Clair stood on the bridge and watched the two girls go up the hill to Sunny Brow through the fields of waving corn."He is very nice; he is very attentive, isn't he, Eva" Said Annie, excitedly."He wants something to amuse him in the country, I suppose," replied Eva."Oh! it can't be that; they keep lots of company at the Hall, and Lord Clair goes away a good deal too. I—think he admires you, Eva."Annie made this admission half-unwillingly, and Eva answered carelessly—"He is at the age, my dear, when young men admire every one they come near. But, look, there is one of the Miss Richards watching for us, I am afraid we must be late."They were about a quarter of an hour late, and the Richards family felt injured. They had seen them leave the garden with Lord Clair, and on the whole they were inclined to think such a proceeding was scarcely desirable. And now, as they approached her, Jane Richard was forced privately to admit that she had never seen her own hat look so well as on this beautiful girl.Perhaps this knowledge made Miss Richards feel unamiable, for her smile was certainly rather a sour one when Eva Moore addressed her pleasantly."Thank you so much for lending me a hat and scarf, Miss Richards, or was it your sister?" She said."No, they are mine," Answered Jane Richards. "So you have been for a walk with the young lord?""Yes, we went to see if the fire had left us any of our possessions; but no, at least as far as regards poor me," suggested Annie."Oh, yes.""We are waiting dinner," remarked Jane Richards."Are you? I am very sorry; I will just leave the hat in the hall and then we are ready," said Eva, taking off the hat as she spoke, and as they together entered the house, she laid it perhaps rather carelessly on the hall table.Now the hat was Jane Richards' best one, and the two girls had not over much money to spend on finery. Therefore she lifted the hat after Eva had laid it down."I will take it upstairs," She said with reproach in her voice.And as she ran up the stairs, Mrs Richards appeared at the dining-room door also with reproach in her voice."Come, young ladies," She said, "Mr Richards is waiting dinner, and he has no spare time to waste even to keep high company.""We are very sorry we are late, Mrs Richards, but we have been to Holly Hill, answered Eva."Humph; we saw you go out with the young lord. However, sit down. I am afraid the mutton is over-roasted, and it is one of our prime southdowns."This was actually the case. In honour of her two young guests Mrs Richards had cooked the leg of mutton which had been hanging in the larder in preparation for the Sunday family dinner. And now these two young guests had caused it to be over-roasted by not being in time for dinner.Mr Richards, a farmer not unlike the type of Mr Dighton, was actually seated at table brandishing his knife and fork when they entered the dining-room, with impatience on his brow. The commencement of the meal was therefore somewhat trying, but gradually under the influence of the excellent home-brewed beer, the family thawed. Mrs Richards

was curious to hear what the fire at Holly Hill had spared, and the Miss Richards what the young lord had said."He's a fine-looking young gentleman," remarked Mrs Richards. "I suppose the next holiday making we'll have at the Hall will be for his wedding.""Is he going to marry any one?" asked Eva Moore calmly."He's sure to marry some great lady soon," replied Mrs Richards sagely. "He'll be vastly wealthy, as well as being an earl when his father dies. I have heard some speak of his cousin, Miss Gower, as his future partner; but she's not up to his mark either in looks or anything else, to my thinking.""She is the little dark-eyed, small-featured girl that was at the dance. I thought her rather pretty," replied Eva.In the meanwhile, as the family at Sunny Brow were thus discussing his future prospects, Clair was walking towards the Hall thinking of Eva Moore. He had only met her yesterday, but that meeting seemed suddenly to have changed his whole being. He had been a light-hearted, high-spirited young man before

this, ready enough to admire a pretty girl when he saw one, and perhaps even to tell her so; but there was something about Eva, something in the gleam of her lustrous eyes, in her grace and beauty, that had completely fascinated him."And I saved her life," he thought excitedly; "That gives me some sort of claim, and yet she would hardly promise to let me know where she is going when she leaves here-But I like her pride; and she will let me know, and I shall see her wherever it is."Again and again such thoughts as these passed through his heart as he walked towards the Hall. Then he entered the richly wooded park which one day would be all his, where the deer stole through the thickets, and where the pheasants rose on their burnished wings. A beautiful home this Kilmore Hall, old and stately, which had come so unexpectedly into the possession of the present earl. And the young heir looked around as he went on dreaming still fondly of this sudden love which had sprung up in his heart in a single night. He saw her mentally again before him standing in the old-fashioned garden as he had

seen her in the morning in her borrowed white gown, and with the sun shining on her beautiful face. A great gift for good or evil is such loveliness as Eva Moore's. He had told her he would take the risks of the good and evil, and he meant to keep his word.Suddenly in one of the side paths he encountered his father and mother, and Lord Kilmore, who had not seen him since the fire the night before at Holly Hill, stopped smilingly."Well, Clair," he said, "so I understand you have been acting the knight-errant, and rescuing distressed damsels from the flames?"Clair laughed, and a blush spread over his clear, brown skin."I daresay you have heard a very exaggerated story, father," he said."By Mrs Dighton's account your gallantry could not be exaggerated," continued the earl, still smiling. "That worthy lady has just been telling your mother and myself that you went up on a rope into a window and brought down a young lady in her night-dress in your arms! Really, Clair, I don't know whether it was quite the correct thing to do."Again Clair laughed at his father's raillery."It was very brave but very rash," said Lady Kilmore. "If I had been there I should not have allowed my boy to run such a risk for all the young ladies in the world!""Now, Jeanie, don't throw cold water on your son's exploit. Clair, may we ask if the fair damsel was handsome or plain?"That depends on taste, father.""I perceive by your answer to which decision your taste inclines. Well, it's a most romantic beginning to an acquaintance, which I should suggest might be a little dangerous to go on with. What do you say, Jeanie?""What nonsense, Kilmore," said Lady Kilmore, smiling at her husband. "Turn with us a little way, Clair, and then we will all walk home together to lunch?So Lord Clair turned with his father and mother, and Lord Kilmore was interested in hearing about the amount of damage done to his property at Holly Hill."I must send Jepson over in the morning," he said. "Poor Mrs Dighton seems in a terrible way about her belongings. That young Dighton's badly hurt, I hear?""Yes, but the doctor thinks he'll pull through all right," answered Clair."That's well. Ah, here comes Annette," for at this moment Annette Gower emerged from beneath some trees, where she had been sitting reading, or pretending to read, for she had a book in her hand. "Well, my dear," went on Lord Kilmore, addressing her as she approached him, "you see we are all out enjoying the air this fine morning.""Yes," smiled Annette, and then she glanced shyly at Clair."Come with us also, dear," Said Lady Kilmore. "We are going for a little walk, and then going in to lunch together.""Yes, Aunt Jeanie," And so the four walked on abreast until the path narrowed, and then Lord and Lady Kilmore advanced a few steps in front, and the two young people followed behind."You did not tell me at breakfast about your adventure last night, Clair," said Annette Gower, again looking shyly at Clair."It was not worth telling," Answered Clair."Oh! but I hear it was. I went with a

message to poor Mrs Dighton, from Aunt Jeanie, and she said you acted most bravely. It was the handsome girl you danced with in the tent, wasn't it?""Yes, Miss Moore; the staircase up to her room had somehow got on fire, and the poor girl was in danger of her life.""And you saved her, Clair" said Annette, with a faint ring of uneasiness in her voice."I helped at least; but there were a lot of other fellows about.""And is the house quite burned down?""It is not inhabitable at present at least.""Then where are the others—this girl and Miss Dighton—as only Mrs Dighton and her son came here?""They went to some neighbour's across the river, one of the other tenants.""And this Miss Moore was not hurt?""Yes, her arm was hurt by the rope. It was a terrible position for a woman to be in; she had to hang in mid-air by the rope for a few seconds.""Oh! how dreadful!""But she was quite brave and calm; wonderfully calm.""And she is a friend of Miss Dighton's!""Yes, though I don't know how she came to be; but they were at school together.""She looks older than Miss Dighton.""She is quite young; but she has more manner, and is altogether different. Look at that hare scudding over there, Annette. I could have knocked him neatly over if I had had a gun.""I am very glad you have not, then. I never can imagine what pleasure men can have in killing things.""And a good many women too, my dear.""Yes, I know; but I don't like hunting women or sporting women of any kind. It always seems so horribly cruel to see a poor animal chased to its death.""Then you mustn't marry into some shires, Annette, or you will give great offence."Annette Gower's delicate little brown face winced at this allusion to her marriage."Aunt Jeanie does not like hunting women either," she said after a little pause."She was not brought up amongst them, you see, but in a legal atmosphere like yours, Annette; one's rearing makes all the difference.""Oh, yes, I know that; but I like country life.""So does mother; but they have turned, so we had better turn too. It's a jolly day, isn't it, Annette, and makes one feel so happy.""Yes, it's a lovely clay," replied the girl, but her voice had not the joyous ring of her cousin Clair's.They all returned to the house together, and at luncheon Lady Kilmore asked her son if he were going anywhere during the afternoon.Clair was conscious that his colour rose beneath his mother's gentle gaze."Yes, mother, I've got an engagement this afternoon," he answered."Oh, well, it's no matter, dear, but I thought if you had nothing to do that you perhaps might drive over with Annette and myself to call on the Stanleys; but we can put it off to another day if you are engaged," Said Lady Kilmore."Oh, go without me.""But I should like you to go; they are such old friends, and you have not seen them since you came of age."Clair gave a good-natured little shrug of his broad shoulders."I see you want me to be a very good boy, mother," he said."Of course I want you to be a good boy, so some day soon you must go to Dene House with me.""All right; and now I think I'll go and have a look at the horses. So good-bye, mother, for the present; good-bye, Annette" And with a little nod to each of the ladies Clair rose from the table and left the room.He was going to keep his appointment with Eva Moore on the bridge over the Ayre, but before he did so he meant to get the flowers he had promised to take her. He, however, did go to the stables for five minutes, and rather disgusted the head groom by his brief visit thereThen he went in at one of the garden gates and crossed to the conservatories. Lady Kilmore was a passionate lover of flowers, and her green-houses contained all the rarest and most beautiful specimens she could procure. She was famous for roses, and Clair soon found himself amidst a perfect mass

of fragrant blossoms. He cut the finest he could find in spite of the disapproving glances of one of the upper gardeners, and then just when he had gathered a most splendid collection he unexpectedly encountered his cousin, Annette Gower.She gave a little start when she saw him with his hands full of flowers, aid then grew very pale, while Clair, it must be admitted, grew very red."You see I'm gathering a posie," he said."Yes, I see," answered Annette, in a faltering voice."They are for Miss Moore, the pretty girl you admired at the dance," went on Clair in a slightly bravado tone, as though he were determined not to be ashamed of what he was doing. "She is fond of flowers, so I promised her some.""Yes," again said Annette, and she did not look in her cousin's face."I must have a string or something to tie them together. I wonder where I can get any?""There is generally bass and twine on the shelves.""Thanks; there is some bass I see over there," and as he spoke Clair crossed the conservatory and returned with a parcel of bass in his hand. "Will you hold the flowers, Annette, until I tie them together?" he continued.Annette put out her trembling hand and took the flowers, but in her agitation or nervousness when Clair was tying the string she dropped several of them."Oh! you stupid little girl," Cried Clair, good-naturedly, and then he stooped and picked them up, throwing away those, however, that he thought had been in the least injured by their fall."It's quite a swell affair, isn't it?" he said as he finally took the flowers from his cousin's hand. "Thanks, Annette, for holding them; and now what are you going to do?""I only came for some flowers for Aunt Jeanie.""Then I shall go with my posie; I shall not be long away."Annette made no answer, but as Clair turned and walked down the conservatory

and disappeared through the first door he came upon, she sank down on a seat near her, and a deep and weary sigh escaped her lips.The poor girl sat there long, and her heart felt very cold and sad within her. Unconsciously she had learned to love her cousin Clair; to love him for his good looks and his brightness and kindness of disposition. She had been constantly thrown with him during the last two years, as Lady Kilmore earnestly, if secretly, desired that Clair should make her his wife. And Annette Gower had perhaps understood this wish of her aunt's heart, to which her own so fully responded.Clair was frank and friendly with her always, sometimes even affectionate, but it was with a cousinly affection. But it is astonishing to what small things love will cling. Annette had dwelt on kindly looks and kindly words, which in truth meant nothing. It was not indeed until she saw him with Eva Moore at the dance in the tent, and noted the eager expression of admiration in his face, that she began to

understand that she had never roused any of the deeper feelings of her cousin's heart."And he saved her life, and now he is taking her flowers," thought Annette with a bitter heart moan. It seemed to her at this moment as if her life were wrecked; as if she no longer cared to live. It was a bright day, but everything had suddenly turned dark and desolate to her."I am nothing to him," She told herself as she walked hack with
languid weary steps to the Hall; "he never gives me even a
thought."CHAPTER VI.THE FALLEN FLOWER.When Clair, carrying his flowers, came in sight of the stone bridge over the river Ayre, he instantly perceived that two girls were sitting on the parapet. He perceived also as he approached nearer that one of these girls—Eva Moore—wore no hat, but merely had a black lace scarf wrapped round her head. He saw this before she turned round and smilingly recognised him. Then he advanced on to the bridge, but Eva did not rise to meet him though Annie Dighton did."What beautiful flowers!" cried Eva."Will you please me by accepting them?" he answered, placing the fragrant blossoms in her hand.She put down her face to inhale their fragrance."Oh! thank you so much," She murmured, with her rosy lips hidden by the flowers."They are beautiful," said Annie Dighton, a little primly; "do they come from the conservatories at the Hall?""Yes; my mother goes in for flowers, you know, and is always looking out for new kinds.""I do not wonder at her taste," said Eva Moore, lifting her cream-tinted face from the blossoms. "Ah!" She added, smilingly, "I see you are looking at my head-gear. Well, you must know that Miss Jane Richards so evidently grudged me the use of her hat that I disdained to ask her for it again, and we got into trouble, too, didn't we, Annie, over the roast mutton?"Annie smiled and blushed."We were late," She said."And the prime southdown was over-roasted! Oh! I am so enchanted with the flowers; we hoped you would not forget them, Lord Clair; but I own I had my doubts on the subject. And Eva laughed and showed her small, white, even teeth."I am sure you had no doubts," answered Clair, ardently, with his eves fixed on her face."I had, indeed. For one thing it requires a certain amount of moral courage for a man to carry a big bouquet of flowers, with no doubt the admiring eyes of some members of his household fixed on him.""I assure you I was not at all ashamed of carrying them," answered Clair, and he thought with inward satisfaction at this moment that he had had the courage to tell Annette Gower for whom he intended the flowers."Well, at all events we have got them!" laughed Eva. "Now we must divide them equally. Annie must have half. Will you untie the string, Lord Clair, while I hold them?""I will do anything you tell me," he answered."Rash young man!! Remember I am an unreasonable woman. There, that is splendid, and now I must begin to divide them. One for Annie, one for me— it must be a fair count out!She looked so lovely as she sat there on the bridge with the black lace wrapped round her comely head and throat, and the roses lying on her knee, that no wonder the young lord's heart beat tumultuously."May I sit beside you?" he asked."One for Annie, one for me," went on Eva, dividing the flowers into two separate bunches. "What did you say, Lord Clair? May you sit beside me? Yes, of course."He vaulted on the parapet and sat admiring Eva's delicate profile."May I say something that you will perhaps think rude?" Asked Clair."Please don't say anything rude; I feel happy, and wish to continue to feel happy, and a rude speech might disturb my mental equanimity.""It is only I think you should always wear a lace scarf over your head and not a hat, it becomes you so splendidly.""That's a compliment, and like every woman and man, I like them, only I don't believe in them much.""You may believe in this one; were I a painter, I should paint you just as you are sitting now.""Would you? Don't you think a rose would improve me?" And she raised a lovely crimson one to her head as she spoke. "Just fastened in there?""That looks exquisite!" Cried Clair, in genuine admiration."Give me a hair-pin, and fasten it in then, Annie," said Eva.And as Annie complied with her request she looked smilingly in Clair's face."And so you should like to make a picture of me?" She asked."I shall always have one now," he answered in a low tone; "I shall always see you as I see you now."Eva laughed, and then went on dividing the flowers, still with the rose fixed in her shining hair."There," She said, "That's an equal division. Wait till I tie them together, Annie, for we must divide the bass too, unless you should like one to wear in your dress?"May I have this one?" Asked Annie, raising a beautiful rose."My dear, that bunch is your own property. Now I shall tie the others together, and then I shall tie my own.She tied Annie's flowers together and gave them into her hand, and then commenced to gather up her own."Will you do me a great favour?" Asked Clair."With the greatest pleasure.""Give me a flower for a button-hole then?""Which will you have?""A rose like yours," Answered Clair.She picked one out and held it towards him, and Clair eagerly took it."Thank you," he said. "Now tell it never to fade, as I shall always keep it.""How romantic you are!" laughed Eva."You make me romantic; you look like a heroine in a romance."Eva's countenance changed, and a cloud passed over it."Romances are not always pleasant," She said. "Come, Lord Clair," And she sprang lightly from the parapet of the bridge; "Shall we stroll along the side of the river a little way?""I shall be delighted," answered Clair.So they left the bridge and wandered along the margin of the gurgling Ayre for nearly an hour; Eva talking brightly most of the while, though sometimes a shadow seemed to cross

her face. But there was no shadow on Clair's, nor in his heart.He was happy; he was in the first flush of an hitherto unknown joy—the joy that comes crowned with flowers—though ere long their brightness may fade. The subtle feeling that thrills our breasts with its magic touch had glided into his. This fair woman by his side had opened a new world for him. He was a youth no longer, but a man with the feelings, passions, and tenderness that only a woman can wake. And the river gurgled on, and the birds sang in the boughs, but there was sweeter music still in the heart of Clair."We shall get into another row!" suddenly cried Eva."What for! You half startled me," Clair answered."The tea will be getting cold at Sunny Brow; I feel convinced it is five o'clock," Answered Eva, in tones of mock alarm."Oh, what matter is the tea," said Clair, looking at his watch, which he hastily returned to his pocket."Lord Clair, let me see your watch? You know it is five o'clock?""No, it is not," laughed Clair."It is past five then? I see guilt written in your face. Do let me see the watch."So Clair was forced to produce his watch, and the indicator of time pointed to half-past five."We will get cold tea and cold looks," said Eva. "Let us go back at once, Lord Clair, and you must leave us when we reach the bridge.""That is very unkind. Let me see you to Sunny Brow?""No. Mrs Grundy, in the three-fold shape of Mrs Richards and her two daughters, would feel herself affronted. She would feel it her duty to remonstrate; and now, when I think of it, I think I had better take the rose from my hair before I approach Mrs Grundy's residence,"Let me do that?" Asked Clair, eagerly.Eva bent her shapely head for him to unfasten the rose, which Clair did with trembling fingers. Then he placed it beside the other in his coat, and neither he nor Eva made any comment on this act.But when they reached the bridge Eva stopped."Now, good-bye," she said, offering her hand."Must it really be good-bye? But only for today" Said Clair, reluctantly. "When and where shall I see you tomorrow?Eva looked at Annie smilingly."Dare we promise, do you think?" She said."I do not know," answered Annie, casting down her eyes."Well, if we are not forcibly prevented—but we may be—shall we say tomorrow here at three" said Eva, now looking at Clair."Oh! do not be prevented!" Cried Clair eagerly. "I shall be here at three o'clock, and wait until you come.""Even till midnight!" laughed Eva. "Good-bye, then, we will try not to keep you waiting so long."She nodded, smiled, and turned away, and Clair stood watching her until she disappeared. Then he walked down the river path again, which he had so lately trod with her, recalling her looks and words, dwelling on them, his heart full of his new joy.Suddenly he put his hand to his breast and

took from his coat the rose Eva had worn in her hair. He pressed his lips passionately to it, and as he did so the crimson petals fell apart and fluttered to the wet and marshy ground at his feet. Clair stooped down and raised them one by one, but he felt exceedingly discomforted. He had meant always to keep this rose, and now it lay broken and soiled with the stains of the damp earth, that nothing could ever remove.Was it an omen? If so, the young lord heeded it not, but went
blindly to his fate!CHAPTER VII.A CHANGE OF OPINION.THE family at Sunny Brow had seen with much disapproval Eva Moore leave the house with only the lace scarf wrapped round her head."She's actually going out of the garden gate with it on," cried Jane Richards, looking from the dining-room window, and forgetting that she had made no further offer of her hat to Eva. "I declare it doesn't look respectable, mother, going about the country like that; I wonder who she is?""Mrs Dighton says she was at school with Annie Dighton," said Mrs Richards."She's far older, I am certain, than Annie Dighton; Annie is only nineteen; this girl, I am sure, is three or four and twenty," answered Jane."She looks to me like a play-actress," remarked Fannie Richard, "With that lace thing wrapped round her head, and she gives herself no end of airs.""I believe she thinks no one good enough for her," Scoffed Jane, "And without a rag to her back too.""Well, she couldn't help that, Jane," Said Mrs Richards; "but I believe she thinks herself quite a great lady, perhaps because the young lord danced with her so often."Now no doubt there was some slight truth underlying these comments. Unconsciously to herself perhaps Eva Moore looked smilingly down on the Richards and their belongings. The homely service at the table, the still more homely minds and manners of the family, struck her partly with amusement and partly with satire. And though the Richards might be homely, they had their wits about them. She was always most pleasant, yet they saw she was unused to such people as themselves and their ways.Mr Dighton was a richer man than Mr Richards, and things in the house were conducted differently at Holly Hill to those at

Sunny Brow, especially since Annie Dighton had returned from her London school. Mrs. Richards and her two daughters were really hard-working women, and all credit was due to them for being so. But they were a great contrast naturally to the refined beautiful girl who accidentally had become their guest. And they were jealous of this difference. They did not like to see their coarse, red hands beside Eva Moore's white, slender ones, and were conscious that their manners lacked the refinement of hers. Therefore, their tongues were bitter against her, and they felt the inconvenience of her presence at Sunny Brow increasing.And their wrath grew greater when neither she nor Annie Dighton returned to the house for many hours in the afternoon, after Eva had committed the offence of going out with only a lace scarf round her head."I've no doubt she's hanging about to see if she can catch a glimpse of the young lord," said Jane, who was the bitterest of the three, on account of her best hat not being treated with proper respect."Just as if he would ever look at her,"

answered Fannie, "except just to amuse himself.""She's conceit enough for anything," continued Jane.But their further remarks were stopped by the appearance of Mr Dighton, of Holly Hill, opening the garden gate and approaching the house."Here's Mr Dighton; I wonder what he'll say when he hears that the girls are wandering about the country no one knows where," said Jane; and then she went and opened the house door for the farmer."Well, Mr Dighton, how are you?" She said, holding out her hand. "Come in; Annie and Miss Moore are out somewhere, and we've seen nothing of them for hours.""I came to see them," Answered Mr Dighton, wiping his red brow with his red handkerchief, "And to thank you kindly for taking them in.""Oh, I'm sure they are very welcome, Mr Dighton; Annie especially," replied Jane."Well, you see, I've been to see my missis at the Hall this afternoon, and poor Dick and the wife and I have been laying our heads

together, and we've made up our minds that the best thing for us to do is to take a house for a bit at Eastcliff. You see, Miss Jane, Holly Hill will have to be mostly re-built, and that will take a goodish time, and then we can't let the girls trouble you much longer, and the missis feels that though they do everything for her at the Hall, and for Dick, that is kind, still it's an intrusion like, and so we've fixed for me to take the girls over with me tomorrow to Eastcliff, and take a house there, and Annie and Miss Moore can go at once, and the wife and Dick follow as soon as the poor lad is well enough to travel.""Oh, I'm sure, Mr Dighton, we'll be very glad for them to stay on here," said Jane. A sort of revulsion indeed took place in her mind immediately she heard their young guests were about to leave them. "Annie, I am sure, would be welcome to stay any time—you see, we have known her so long.""Thank you kindly, Miss Jane, but all the same I think it's a good job that Miss Moore happened to be with Annie just now, because Annie could hardly have gone by herself to Eastcliff, but the two of them can go very

well. You and Miss Fannie here must go down on a visit to them."Jane smiled, and her brown skin flushed with pleasure."Thank you, Mr Dighton, that would be so nice," She said. "I always say a sniff of the sea does one a world of good at this time o' year. Oh, here they come," for at this moment Eva Moore and Annie Dighton appeared in the garden, and a moment or two later entered the room.Annie ran up to her father and kissed him, and the farmer held out his hand and shook Eva's heartily."Well, my handsome lass," he said, looking at her admiringly, "You don't look a bit the worse for all you've gone through. And I've been telling Miss Jane and Miss Fannie here what we've planned for you both."Upon which Mr Dighton proceeded to explain the scheme of going to Eastcliff on the following day, and taking Annie and Eva with him to seek a house."If we start in the twelve train," proceeded the farmer, "We'll be there at two, and have

the afternoon to look about us, and it will be a nice outing for you both."Eva looked at Annie with a comical little smile."Tomorrow, do you say, Mr Dighton?" she said."Yes, my dear, we'd better see about the house at once, and, as I've been saying to Miss Jane here, it's a good job you are staying with Annie, as you'll be such nice company for each other at Eastcliff, and I'll run over and see you whenever I can.""I will stay with Annie until Mrs Dighton can come," answered Eva, "and then I must go."Nonsense, nonsense," Said the genial farmer, "you must stay till you're tired of us. Dick, poor fellow, would be in a fine way if he thought he would not see you when he gets to Eastcliff. And Miss Jane and Miss Fannie must come down and see you too.""Oh! that will be very nice," said Annie; "I hope you will both come?""Only too pleased," answered Jane, who had quite recovered her good temper. "Well, Mr Dighton, you'll stay tea with us?"I wouldn't mind a cup and a chat with your father. Well, Annie, your mother sent her best love, and she hopes you have not been giving Mrs Richards any bother you could help?""I hope not, father," answered Annie, smiling. But, Eva," She added, "don't you think we ought to make ourselves tidy for tea?"I was just going to suggest doing so," answered Eva, and as the two girls were leaving the room Mrs Richards appeared at the doorway."So you've got back," She said, "And where have you got all the grand flowers that are lying on the hall table?""That's a secret," laughed Eva; "We have each been presented with a beautiful bouquet.""Humph!" ejaculated Mrs Richards, somewhat suspiciously; but at this moment she caught sight of Mr Dighton, and went forward with outstretched hand."Glad to see you, Mr Dighton," She said, "and my good man will be glad to see you also; he was just saying he would go over to see you in the morning.""Thank you kindly, Mrs Richards, and for being so kind to the two girls too.""Mother," said Jane Richards eagerly, for she was now afraid Mrs Richards might give expression to some of the family feeling in regard to Eva Moore; Mr Dighton is going to take a house at Eastcliff for Annie and Miss Moore, and he has asked us to go down and see them there. Isn't it kind?""Oh, indeed, that's very nice," replied Mrs Richards, who was quick, and quite under-stood her daughter's hint. "But there's no hurry, Mr Dighton; the girls are very welcome here, if they can put up with our ways.""Thank you kindly, Mrs Richards, but we've about settled it, and Miss Moore and Annie will be good company for each other till the wife and Dick go down to them. Miss Moore's a fine handsome lass, isn't she, Mrs Richards?""Yes, she's well favoured. The young lord came here yesterday.""That was but natural after he had saved her life, poor lass," replied the farmer. "He's a fine fellow the young lord, not a bit of pride or nonsense about him.""He seems pleasant spoken," answered Mrs Richards, and then the conversation drifted to other matters.In the meanwhile the two girls, Eva and Annie, had gone to their room, carrying their flowers with them, and as soon as they got there Annie said—"Eva, what shall we do?""You mean about our cavalier?" answered Eva, smiling. "Well, we mustn't keep him sitting on the bridge till midnight, so I'll write him a note and tell him we are going tomorrow with your father to Eastcliff, so we can't keep our tryst.""Oh! Eva, write to Lord Clair!""Why not, my dear? Have we not taken flowers from Lord Clair? Have we not walked with him, so why not write to him?""But writing seems different; we might have met him out walking by accident.""But we didn't, you know," laughed Eva. "Yes, after tea I shall sit down and write hint a note, and you and me can propose to see your father a little way on his walk home, and then we can post the note. Wasn't it fun about the old lady and the flowers? I

mean to wear some at tea and make them all jealous."Accordingly Eva adorned herself with two lovely roses on her shoulder, and two on her waistband, and she insisted on Annie wearing some too."I'm afraid they'll guess who gave them to us," said Annie, half timidly."What matter if they do, it will only make them more jealous," answered Eva. "Come, let us go down, and don't let them say we have spoiled the tea."They went downstairs accordingly, and every one at once began admiring their flowers."Oh! what lovely roses! Wherever did you get them?" cried Jane Richards."They are splendid," said Fannie; "I did not think that there were any such grown on the country-side.""You must guess where we got them," answered Eva, gaily."I've seen some such at the Hall," Said Mr Dighton. "Ay, I'll guess, the young lord has taken you to see the greenhouses, and given you them? Am I right now?"Eva shook her head."No, we have not been at the Hall," she said."Then it beats me, I'll give it up," answered Mr Dighton with a laugh."They were brought to us," Continued Eva."Brought to you? Oh! you must tell us who brought them," said Jane Richards. "Did you get them from one of the gardeners at the Hall?"Do you mean stolen goods?" laughed Eva. "No, Lord Clair brought them for us; wasn't it kind?""Lord Clair!" echoed Jane."Yes, Lord Clair himself. He asked us if we were fond of flowers, and when we said we were he offered to bring us some, and he did.""You are highly honoured," said Fannie Richards, spitefully."Yes, aren't we?" answered Eva provokingly."It's just like the fine young fellow," remarked Mr Dighton, his mouth full of buttered toast. "He's an open-handed, generous young chap, and will make a fine

landlord some of these days, not that the old lord is a bad one."Mrs Richards and her daughters said nothing more. They secretly disapproved of Eva and Annie's conduct, but with the prospect of a visit to Eastcliff in view they did not express their opinion. They began talking of other things, and then presently, when tea was over, Mr Dighton rose and said he must go."Can you wait a few minutes?" asked Eva, "and then Annie and I will see you part of the way home, but I have got a few lines to write before we go that I want posted?""I will wait with pleasure, my dear," Answered the farmer.Upon this Eva ran upstairs and wrote a few lines to Lord Clair."DEAR LORD CLAIR,—Annie Dighton and I are going tomorrow to Eastcliff with Mr. Dighton, to choose a house there, so we shall be unable to meet you as we promised. But the day after, if it is convenient to you, I should like to see you to thank you once more for what you did for me, and as I shall not

return here from Eastcliff, I wish to bid you good-bye. Will three o'clock suit you, the day after tomorrow, on the bridge?"Yours sincerely,"EVA MOORE."Just as Eva was finishing this note a rap came to the room door, and Jane Richards entered it carrying a hat in her hand."Oh! Miss Moore, I have brought you the hat," she said, "As you are going out with Mr Dighton, and I'm so sorry you did not get it in the afternoon.""Thanks very much," smiled Eva; "but the lace scarf did splendidly in the afternoon, though I am afraid it would not be quite enough protection for the evening. However, I wrote to my banker yesterday to send me a new cheque-book, and I shall get it tomorrow, and I am sure Mr Dighton will cash a cheque for me, and Annie tells me there are some rather good shops at Eastcliff, so I shall be able to buy a hat and some necessaries, and you must let me bring you a hat too, in return for the hat you are so kindly lending me.""Oh, there is no need for that, Miss Moore. I am sure you are very welcome to it," said Jane, much impressed. "But I am stopping you finishing your letter; but is there anything else you want?""Nothing, thanks," answered Eva, and as Jane Richards disappeared she finished and directed her letter to Lord Clair, and then went down with it in her hand to the parlour, and a few minutes later she, the farmer, and Annie, were on their way to the Post Office.And scarcely were they gone when the following conversation took place between the Richards family regarding Eva."After all, she must be a lady, I think," Said Jane Richards, "for she's written to her banker for a new cheque-book, she says, and she'll get it tomorrow, and will ask Mr Dighton to cash a cheque for her, and she is going to buy a hat and other things at Eastcliff, and she said she would buy me one too, as she had the loan of mine, so that is very kind of her.""If it isn't all moonshine," Answered Fanny Richards."I don't think it is; she spoke as if she
 
really had money. However, we'll see tomorrow, and Mr Dighton seems to think a great deal of her anyhow, and it will be nice to go down and see them at Eastcliff; they were both very kind and pleasant about that."CHAPTER VIII.EASTCLIFF.RIGHT on the sea marge, built actually on the beetling crags, at the foot of which the waves beat and toss, or lap softly in the summer-time, stands the ancient village of Eastcliff. But these wind-swept, time-worn dwellings only now form a very small part of the place. Of late years there have sprung up streets and houses erected further inland, and East-cliff has grown into a little town, famous for its health-giving breezes, and for the romantic beauty of its coast.It is situated about fifteen miles from the Railway Station nearest Holly Hill, therefore the farmer and the two pretty girls in his charge arrived at the village in good time, and first Mr Dighton, with proverbial

hospitality, took Eva and Annie to the principal inn of the place and ordered an excellent lunch. Then refreshed, and exhilarated by the sea-air, they started on a house-seeking expedition, and after some little trouble procured one.It was a moderate-sized house with a garden at the back, and sandy green hills stretching beyond. It was detached, and the landlady was very glad to get all her rooms let at once, and promised to do her best to make the young ladies comfortable.She was a widow, of course, but a widow who took her loss, and her life generally, cheerfully. She was named Appleyard, and her cheeks had the fixed rosy colouring of some American pippins.Appleyard had hurried his departure from her home, and perhaps her love, by his too strong affection for the company of a neighbouring publican. And Mrs Appleyard having let lodgings before he went to keep herself and him, went on letting them, and prospered a great deal better after he was gone. Therefore, she positively refused to take another "man," As she called husbands generally."My man," She was wont to say, "had his good qualities and his bad qualities, and when he wasn't in liquor he was as kind a husband as could be. But then he was nearly always in liquor, and then the worst of him came out."With such experience no wonder she resisted the attentions of more than one admirer, who doubtless were attracted by her rosy cheeks and her comfortable home. She had been about ten years a widow, Appleyard having passed away when she was thirty-five, and by that time she had had quite enough of marriage.Altogether, Mr Dighton and the girls were pleased with her appearance, and a bargain was soon struck, and Sea View House taken for the next three months.After this was settled Eva went to make her proposed purchases at the shops, as her new cheque-book had arrived all right in the morning and Mr Dighton had cashed her a substantial cheque. So she bought right and left, and returned to Sunny Brow laden with parcels and bonnet-boxes.She bought a hat for herself, and the very

best one she could find for Jane Richards. She also purchased a black silk mantle for Mrs Richards, and some pretty trifle for Fannie. She certainly handsomely remunerated the family for her brief stay at Sunny Brow, and the family accordingly were very much pleased with her and her gifts. It had been settled with Mrs Appleyard that Eva and Annie were to go to Sea View House on the second day following their first visit there. Thus on their return in the evening to Sunny Brow, the two girls had only one day more to stay there.Annie had agreed with her father to go over to the Hall to see her mother the next morning, but Eva declined to accompany her there. Mr Dighton therefore had promised to call for his daughter, and when these arrangements were explained to the Richards, they all expressed great regret that their visitors were leaving them so soon."You've hardly come till you're going," said Jane."I'm afraid you can't have been comfortable," apologised Fannie.It was very funny the change of front that the cheque-book and a few presents had

brought about. Human nature generally is so constructed that we cannot help respecting those better off than ourselves. The pinch of poverty is so hard to bear that those who have felt its grip all really envy the well-to-do. The Richards were not absolutely poor, but they had anxieties and frequently troubles about money. Therefore a girl who could spend some twenty or thirty pounds in one day's shopping suddenly became a person of consequence in their eyes. They became respectful to her, and wished that they had always been so. But Eva Moore treated their new manners with the same smiling indifference with which she had regarded their old. They were nothing to her, only she chose to pay for the hospitality she had received, and she had certainly done so.And the next morning brought Lord Clair's answer to her note, which Eva tossed to Annie with a little laugh after she had read it."Read that," she said, and Annie read as follows:—"MY DEAR Miss MOORE,—I thank you very much for your note, and I am very, very sorry

not to be able to see you today, and need not tell you that tomorrow I shall only be too delighted to do so. I shall be on the bridge at three o'clock, and I hope to meet you there, and trust you will not hurry away. I am very sorry you are leaving Sunny Brow; but happily Eastcliff is not far away, and I hope I shall be permitted to see you there."And with kind regards to yourself and Miss Dighton,"I remain, yours very sincerely,
"CLAIR.""Oh! Eva," said Annie, after she had read this letter, "fancy if he comes to Eastcliff!""Well, my dear, it will not kill us if he does," replied Eva calmly, going on arranging her long and beautiful hair, for Clair's letter had been brought up to their bedroom before they were down in the morning. "It will help to amuse us!""But—I am afraid people will talk.""If they do, it will help to amuse them," replied Eva, a little scornfully. "I cannot refuse to see Lord Clair when I owe my life to him.""Certainly there is that.""It is supposed to be a sort of obligation, not that life is worth much—still, to die as I should have died---"And Eva gave a little shudder."Oh, Eva, don't talk of it," said Annie, and she went towards Eva and kissed her cheek. "Certainly we all owe the young lord so much that we never can repay it.""My dear, don't call him the young lord, like the respected Richards family, as if there were only one young lord in the world! Call him Lord Clair; I am sure the name is pretty enough.""Yes, it is very pretty," said Annie meekly. She also had been impressed by the money which Eva Moore scattered so freely about, and also by the attentions of Lord Clair to her friend. For the first time, she began wondering who she could be. Eva never spoke of her family or friends, except the school friends whom they both mutually knew. They had met, as we know, at Annie's London school, where Eva had been a parlour boarder, and only took lessons in singing. She—Eva—had taken a kind of fancy to "The pretty

rustic," as she called Annie Dighton, and the two had corresponded after Annie returned to Holly Hill. There had been a sort of promise between them when they parted that "Some day" Eva should visit Annie at her home. The "Some day," As we know, had come, and was fated to bring great changes in two lives."I shall not be sorry, shall you," said Eva presently, putting some finishing touches to her dress, "to see the last of Sunny Brow?""Oh, the Richards are very kind, but of course---""Oh! yes, of course!" Answered Eva, with a laugh. "Come, my dear, are you ready? Let us descend."The two girls went down together, and the Richards family did everything they could to make themselves pleasant. Then Mr Dighton came for Annie, and Eva again refused to accompany her to the Hall."Give your mother my love," She said, "And tell your brother I am very pleased indeed to hear he is going on so well."So Annie and Mr Dighton left, and Eva, after walking in the garden awhile, accompanied

by Jane Richards, retired to her own room to write letters, she said, but really to escape from the society of the family. She remained there till Annie returned, looking very pretty, and flushed and excited."Oh! Eva, I have seen the young lord," She began."Lord Clair," Corrected Eva."Yes, Lord Clair. Just as father and I were coming away from the Hall we met him with Jepson, the agent, and Mr Jepson stopped to speak to father about the repairs at Holly Hill, and the young lord—at least Lord Clair—walked on with me. And he was so nice; he is coming to meet us this afternoon, and he said he hoped he might come to Eastcliff.""And what did you say?"Oh! I said we should be very pleased; and I told him all about the house, and what fun we meant to have on the sands, and the young lord—oh, I can't help calling him that—but he said we must go out boating with him, and he was just as nice as any one could be.""We must make him useful.""Mother asked if we had seen him, and I said yes, but I did not tell her anything about him coming to Eastcliff; and Dick is much better, but he looks very ill, poor fellow; he asks lots of questions about you, and seemed very pleased when I gave him your message."At this moment Jane Richards rapped at the room door, to tell them that dinner was waiting if they were ready for it. And in honour of their departing guest the family had prepared quite a feast for them to partake of. Mrs Richards had sacrificed two of her best fowls, with a huge tongue placed on the dish between them, while a boiled leg of mutton smoked at the other end of the board. Then there were custards and fruit pies, and only pleasant words and looks. They (the Richards) were in fact so pressing in their attentions that Eva and Annie found the greatest difficulty in getting rid of their company so as to be able to keep their appointment with Lord Clair.At last it dawned on Jane Richards' imagination that for some reason or other

they wished to go out for a walk by themselves. She therefore gave her sister a hint, and Eva and Annie were free to do as they pleased.They accordingly started off through the cornfields, and when they neared the bridge over the Ayre they saw Clair sitting on the parapet waiting for them. He was smoking a cigarette, but he flung this into the stream as he rose to meet them."I was so afraid you were not coming," he said."We did our best to come before, but we could not get away," answered Eva."It was very good of you to come at all." Eva laughed."Don't be flattered," she said, "When I tell you we prefer your society to that of Mrs and the Misses Richards."Clair laughed also at this sally."Well, from whatever motive you have come—without any disrespeet to Mrs or the Misses Richards—I am very glad that you have done so. And now tell me about Eastcliff. Are you really going tomorrow?""We really and truly are. Mr Dighton

will take us down, and then leave Annie and I to take care of ourselves until Mrs Dighton and her son join us.""And I may come and see you?" Asked Clair, with his grey eyes fixed on Eva's face."Yes," She answered, smiling; "you may come and see us. What I saw of Eastcliff I liked it, but I suppose you will have been there?""Never since I was a little boy, when my mother took me after I had whooping-cough or some other childish illness. But I am told the place is quite changed since then; it was only a village at that time.""Oh, there are quite grand streets and shops now—witness my hat!""Did you really buy that there?""I really did; it is not exactly what I should desire, still—it's not bad.""I don't understand about millinery, but I know what you look in it.""Charming, of course! That's what you are bound to say," answered Eva gaily."I should not say it unless I thought it."Eva made a little smiling bow."And if you go tomorrow to Eastcliff, how soon may I come to see you?" Asked Clair, after a moment's silence."What do you say, Annie? Tomorrow the dust of the journey will be on us, and our tempers may be ruffled with wrangling with our landlady. Oh! we shall leave it to yourself, Lord Clair. Come when you feel inclined.""I know how soon that would be," he answered.The three young people were all at that moment leaning against the stone parapet of the bridge, and as Clair was speaking they perceived a horseman approaching it by the roadway which led to it. Annie Dighton and Clair both recognised him; it was Mr Jepson, Lord Kilmore's agent, and Annie's pink cheeks grew pinker as he drew near.He rode on and speedily reached the bridge, and when he came to where Clair and the two girls were standing he drew rein and raised his hat. He was a good-looking man, gentlemanly and middle-aged, and a smile

crossed his face when he saw who were Clair's companions."Good-morning, my lord," he said; "good-morning, Miss Dighton; it's a fine day, isn't it" And as he spoke his eyes were fixed on Eva's face."Yes, very, Mr Jepson," answered Clair with just a touch of haughtiness in his tone, for he noticed the direction of Mr Jepson's glance."And is this the young lady," continued Mr Jepson, still looking at Eva, "Who had such a narrow escape, I am told, at the fire at Holly Hill?"Then Eva raised her large dark eyes and looked steadily at the agent."Yes," She said quietly, "Lord Clair saved my life."Again Mr Jepson raised his hat."Lord Clair was only too happy, I am sure," he said, "To be able to render you so great a service.""I was indeed too happy," Said Lord Clair quickly."You have made us all envy you, my lord," continued Mr Jepson, smiling, and then he

wished them good-morning, and once more touching his hat he rode on, and proceeded to the Hall.He had been in the service of Lord Kilmore for many years, and held a good position in the county, being highly esteemed by the earl and also by many of the neighbouring gentlemen. He was shown into the library when he reached the Hall, where Lord Kilmore was sitting, who held out his hand cordially to him as he entered the room."Well, Jepson," he said, "have you got the estimates of the repairs at Holly Hill?""Yes, my lord," he answered, "I have the estimates here, but I am sorry to say the repairs will cost a lot of money, for in some parts the house is completely gutted.""Still they will have to be done.""Yes!" And as he spoke he laid the estimates on the table before Lord Kilmore, who took them up and began to look them over."I have just seen the heroine of the fire," Continued Mr Jepson quietly. "She was with Lord Clair on the bridge as I came along.""With Lord Clair!" exclaimed Lord Kilmore, dropping the estimates and looking up hastily."Yes; she and that pretty little Miss Dighton and Lord Clair were together on the bridge. She is certainly a beautiful girl this Miss Moore, and I stopped a moment or two so that I might see her.""Still—she is scarcely a fit acquaintance for Clair," said Lord Kilmore after a slight pause."That is what I thought, and therefore I conceived it to be my duty to mention to you that I had seen them together."Lord Kilmore was silent a moment or two, and then he gave a little shrug."A young man's passing fancy, I suppose," he said. "The girl is handsome, and he saved her life, and I have no doubt she makes the most of the obligation. About these estimates, Jepson?"He changed the conversation, and did not again allude to Clair during the agent's visit. But no sooner had he gone than he rose and went to seek his wife, whom he found in the inner drawing-room.She looked up as he went in, and smiled sweetly."Well, dear?" She said.Lord Kilmore went up and stood beside her."Jepson has just been here, Jeanie, and he told me he had seen Clair on the bridge with that girl he saved at the fire. To say the least of it, it is very injudicious."Lady Kilmore's delicate complexion flushed."With that girl?" She repeated uneasily."Yes; and Jepson says she is a very handsome girl. I think you had better speak to him; it would never do for him to get into any scrape of that kind, and of course anything serious is out of the question.""Yes, of course; but, Kilmore, a girl like that! Clair would never look at her nor speak to her except just out of kindness because he saved her life.""My dear, Clair is young, and by Jepson's account the girl is beautiful, and the very fact that he saved her life may attract him to her. I think you had better say something to him, as you have great influence with him.""I hope it will never be needed in such a case. Kilmore, fancy my boy—I do not believe he has ever spoken more than five words to her."The earl shrugged his shoulders; he had not quite as much faith in
Clair as his adoring mother.CHAPTER IX.
"YOU MAY COME."NEVERTHELESS, though she affected to have, and indeed had, such firm belief in her son, her husband's words made Lady Kilmore somewhat uneasy. What she would have felt had she beheld Clair at the moment his father was talking of him could not easily be told. She was a woman with too fine an intuitive knowledge of his nature, if she had seen him lingering on the river bridge by the side of Eva Moore, not to have understood something of the feelings of his heart.As it was, she contented herself by wishing that her son's adventure during the fire at Holly Hill had never occurred."Of course, the girl is naturally grateful to him," she told herself, "who would not be,

but then dear Clair should not forget that he is young and good-looking, and that the poor girl's gratitude might lead her to like him too well, and thus bring unhappiness to herself. But no, she would never be so foolish, and Clair, I am sure, will never forget what is due to his position as his father's son."Still Lady Kilmore listened rather anxiously for the sound of Clair's footsteps. He nearly always came straight to her rooms when he returned to the house, but the summer afternoon waned, and the dusk of the evening gathered round, and yet she heard or saw nothing of him.In truth, Clair was too much excited after he parted with Eva Moore to go and talk quietly with his mother. He had gone for a sharp country ride with a feeling of boyish exhilaration and happiness in his heart. All the long summer afternoon he had been; with Eva; all through the sunny hours he had looked on her beautiful face, and talked of other meetings and coming days."I have taken quite a longing for a stiff sea breeze," he said, switching the tall reeds that grew in the water with his stick."Since when?" smiled Eva."Well, since yesterday," answered Clair with a little laugh."And I have taken a longing for some of those big yellow buttercups," said Eva, pointing to some growing close to the road-side. "Will you get me some?"Clair needed no second bidding. He went to get the buttercups, and when he returned he found Eva seated on the trunk of a fallen tree with her hat in her hand and the sunlight glinting on her bright hair."Thanks so much," she said, looking up smiling as he approached her, and holding out her hand for the water flowers: "I want them to decorate my hat.""You will spoil your hat, Eva, they are wet," cried Annie Dighton."What matter; or I can shake them—you were talking about the sea, Lord Clair, when my erratic fancy was attracted by the buttercups—yes," she went on, fastening the flowers in her hat as she was speaking, "I love the sea, but its sound often makes me feel sad. If I am very disagreeable, or shall I call it pensive, when

you come to Eastcliff, you must excuse me.""I shall only be too happy to be with you whatever you are.""Don't be too sure; I can be very unpleasant at times. But I don't think anyone has a right to be so, mind. I think all troubles and sorrows should be buried deep right down in our own hearts.""I think it would be happier to share them," answered Clair."Some can never be shared," said Eva, and then with sudden impatience she pulled the buttercups from her hat and flung them on the ground."I am only spoiling it," she said rising and shaking her hat, and then placing it on her head, and as she did so Clair stooped down and picked up some of the butter-cups."May I have one for a button-hole?" he asked."If you will condescend to wear so humble a flower. But they are really pretty, and it's a shame to waste them, so I'll wear some too."Again she took the flowers from his hand and placed some of them in the scarf round her throat. Then she proposed that they should walk through the meadows that skirted the river-side. Suddenly she stopped before a mighty oak that had stood in its place a hundred years and more, with its golden-green leaves rustling in the sunshine and the breeze."Fancy all the dead people that have stood under the shelter of this big tree," She said, looking up at the quivering foliage. "All the lovers who have courted here, and likely got to hate each other, or at least got tired of each other after the great tree had budded and leafed a few more years. There is something awful in the placid indifference of inanimate things to us animate ones. They don't know what a blessing it would be not to feel!"I am sure you do not feel that," said Clair ardently."Don't I, Lord Clair? I assure you I do though; I would rather be a tree than a woman any day."Oh! Eva," said Annie Dighton with a laugh."I'm not joking; I'm in earnest," went on Eva. "Fancy putting on a pretty new green dress every springtime, without any trouble or milliner's bills. Fancy getting handsomer every year instead of uglier, and going on growing and growing while the children who played and the pretty maidens who wooed under my branched arms turned old and gray. Now wouldn't it be nice, Lord Clair?""I should rather live a few years of great joy than vegetate for a thousand," he answered."Now I should like to vegetate," said Eva, waywardly. "Great joy is mostly paid for, Lord Clair, by great pain, and it's not worth the cost!""Oh! yes it is—it must be. Even to have been happy once is worth bearing anything for!"Eva shook her head as Clair spoke. His grey eyes were fixed on her face, his clear brown skin was flushed with ardour. He was thinking how gladly he would bear anything to be a few years happy with Eva. And perhaps she understood something

of her young lover's feelings, for she sighed softly."There!" she said presently, "we have talked nonsense enough. We ought to be thinking of going back to Sunny Brow, Annie.""Oh, surely not yet" said Clair.But Eva would not be persuaded. And so the three retraced their steps along the riverside, and when they reached the bridge Eva stopped and held out her hand to Clair."Good-bye, Lord Clair," She said."May I come the day after tomorrow to Eastcliff?" he asked, still holding her hand."If you like; but something may come in the way.""Nothing shall come in the way if you give me permission."All right; you may come.And Eva laughed, and thus they parted; the two girls returning to Sunny Brow and Clair going for a long ride, only returning to the Hall in time to dress for dinner.Both his father and mother looked at him

when he entered the inner drawing-room before that meal was announced. No one else was present but his cousin, Annette Gower, who also glanced at him shyly."What a long while you have been out, Clair!" said his mother, with a slight ring of anxiety in her voice."Yes, all the afternoon," he answered, brightly. "I had a walk, and then a long ride cross country.""Oh, you've had a long ride, have you? said Lady Kilmore in a relieved tone, and she glanced at her husband."Jepson told me he saw you," remarked the Earl drily, and a faint flush rose to Clair's face as his father spoke."Yes, I saw him on the bridge," said Clair in a tone of affected carelessness; "And he was riding an uncommonly good horse.""He's a good horseman and good judge of horseflesh," replied the Earl, and nothing further was said on the subject, and the family went down to dinner. Clair seemed in the highest spirits, and talked and laughed during the whole meal.Then when they all returned to the inner

drawing-room, which was their usual custom when no visitors were present, Clair went and sat by the side of his mother on a couch, and she softly put her hand in his."Will you go with us tomorrow, my dear," she said, "to call on the Stanleys?""I shall be very pleased, mother," he answered, to her great relief.Then she quite made up her mind not to speak to him on the subject of "That girl.""It was folly even to talk or think of it," she told herself, and the evening passed very quietly and happily away.The Earl was not in very good health, and as a rule they lived the simplest of lives. Annette Gower sang and played, and Lady Kilmore also sang in a cultivated voice of extraordinary sweetness, though not much power. But her husband listened to her so well pleased that he called her to his side after her song was ended and took her hand and looked up in her face affectionately."You sing as well as you did twenty-four years ago, Jeanie," he said smiling.A tender look stole into Lady Kilmore's eyes, and a soft flush to her fair cheeks."Thank you, my dear," she answered, and she stood there with her hand in her husband's, both thinking of the old days of their young love.In the meanwhile Clair was turning over Annette's music, and leaning on the piano talking to her. He liked her, and Annette's dark eyes grew brighter when he was near. She had never spoken to her aunt of that scene in the conservatory, when Clair had told her that the flowers he had gathered were for Eva Moore. But she had not forgotten it, and she knew he admired Miss Moore as he had never admired her."But the girl will go away," hope whispered, as Clair leaned on the piano, talking to her in his bright kindly fashion. And Lady Kilmore, glancing round, saw the flush on Annette's pretty dark face, and smiled well pleased.Presently she crossed over to them, and they planned together the visits they would pay on the following afternoon, and Clair agreed to everything they proposed."It will be so nice to have you with us, dear," said Lady Kilmore, with her hand on his shoulder."I am afraid Clair will think it a great bore to pay two visits in one afternoon," smiled Annette, looking at her cousin."Not when I'm with you, my dear, and mother," he answered kindly, and the poor girl repeated these words to her heart again and again during the night that followed.But Clair was repeating other words and recalling other smiles. He
was thinking "only one day and I shall see her again—only one
day"—the day on which Annette Gower was building her foolish
hopes; the day she was looking forward to was the same that Clair was
wishing would quickly speed away!CHAPTER X.A FALL.AND the day came and went, and Annette felt very happy driving through the still green country lanes with Clair opposite to her. He had gone to pay these visits to please his mother, and he was too kind-hearted not to do his best to make the hours pass pleasantly. He laughed and chatted, but it must be admitted felt decidedly pleased when on their return they neared the Hall.It was late, and the bright August moon had risen, and was shedding its fair beams on the hedgerows and the trees. Annette felt excited, and the peaceful beauty all around stirred strange emotions in her breast. But Clair felt rather tired, and thought the drive had been decidedly long."However the day is nearly over," he reflected, well pleased, as they drove up the avenue and came in sight of the stately outlines of the Hall. Lady Kilmore also was tired, but Annette Gower wished they had miles and miles further to go.In these different frames of mind they entered the house, and the evening passed as usual, except that Clair said before he bade his mother good-night, on her proposing some other excursion:"No, mother, I can't go with you tomorrow; I'm going away for the day.""For the whole day, dear?" Asked Lady Kilmore, rather surprised."Yes, for the whole day: I'm going down to have a look at the sea.""At the sea, Clair? Where are you going then?""To Eastcliff. They say it's grown a wonderful place now; do you remember when we went there when I was a little boy?""Yes, I remember, Clair!" replied Lady Kilmore, somewhat slowly; and when her son had left the room for the night she was still thinking of this brief conversation."It's an odd freak of Clair's going to Eastcliff tomorrow, isn't it, Kilmore?" she said to her husband."I have just been thinking so, Jeanie," he answered. "Ten to one, he's going on a day's excursion with the beauty he rescued at the fire at Holly Hill!""Oh! Kilmore!""My dear, young men will be young men, and Clair is young and impulsive. But it will be a great pity, as I told you before, if he gets entangled in any such folly."Lady Kilmore did not speak, but she felt uneasy. Clair had gone to bed, and she therefore had no opportunity of asking him any further questions. And the next morning when she went down to breakfast she heard from Annette Gower that he was already gone."How early for him to start!" said Lady Kilmore."Yes," answered Annette, and she began moving about the room restlessly, and Lady Kilmore noticed she scarcely swallowed anything during the meal that followed.But the morning did not pass without Lady Kilmore's

uneasiness about Clair being greatly increased.During the days which Mrs Dighton and Richard Dighton had been at the Hall, Mrs Dighton had always, by her own request, had her meals served in the room with her son. But Lady Kilmore, with the kindly courtesy of her nature, had gone each morning to inquire after the invalid and say some pleasant, hospitable words to Mrs Dighton, who was highly flattered, but very uncomfortable during these visits. As usual, therefore, about eleven o'clock, Lady Kilmore proceeded to the wing of the house where Mrs Dighton and Richard were located. And having rapped at the door of the small sitting-room which had been given up to Mrs Dighton's use, Lady Kilmore speedily found herself in the presence of the farmer's wife."And how is your son this morning, Mrs Dighton?" Asked Lady Kilmore, pleasantly."Oh, thank your ladyship kindly," answered Mrs Dighton with her best curtsey, "I think Dick's going on all right, and I hope in a day or two I'll be able to get him away to Eastcliff, for I'm sure I'm ashamed of

intruding any longer on your ladyship's kindness.""To Eastcliff?" repeated Lady Kilmore with a quick throb in her heart."Yes, my lady; my husband has taken a house there until the repairs are done at Holly Hill, and my daughter and her friend, Miss Moore—the young lady that your ladyship's son so bravely saved at the fire—went there yesterday."Lady Kilmore could not speak for a moment. The fact passed through her mind with vivid distinctness that Clair had actually gone the very day after she went to see this girl at Eastcliff, and this thought was a very startling one."I expect the sea-air will quite set Dick up," continued Mrs Dighton, on receiving no reply from Lady Kilmore. "You see poor Dick got his hurts in trying to save Miss Moore too, though he wasn't so fortunate as your son, Lord Clair. But he did his best, poor fellow, and he's very anxious to get to Eastcliff now when Miss Moore's there; not that he's anxious to leave the Hall, my lady," and again Mrs Dighton curtsied, "for I am

sure nothing can exceed the kindness and attention he's received here; but the truth is," and Mrs Dighton's comely face grew more comely with a pleasant smile, "that poor Dick's very sweet in that quarter, and thinks there's not such another as Miss Moore.""And—have you known this young lady long?" Asked Lady Kilmore."No, my lady, I haven't, but my Annie has known her these two years and more. Annie met her at the school in South Kensington where we sent Annie for a year to finish, and Miss Moore was there too at the time, though not a scholar but a parlour boarder. I think she's a good bit older than our Annie, who's just gone nineteen, but anyhow my Dick seems very far gone!"And Mrs Dighton gave a little laugh."And the young lady—- does she---?" hesitated Lady Kilmore."That I can't say, my lady. She's a queer kind o' girl to my mind, so cold and haughty, and not like a young thing a bit. She's stand-offish like, and talks worldly, but all the same she takes with the men-folk. Why, even my old man," and Mrs Dighton gave her

genial laugh, "thinks no end of her, and took her and our Annie down to Eastcliff two days ago to give them an outing, and Miss Moore, it seems, has a good lot of money, and bought no end of things.""And she is handsome?""Oh, some think a vast of her looks, but I like a little bit more colour. However, she takes our Dick's fancy for sure, and fancy's the great thing you know, my lady.""Yes," said Lady Kilmore slowly. And then after a moment's silence she roused herself. "Have you everything you require, Mrs. Dighton? Be sure you ask the house-keeper for everything you want."Thank you kindly, my lady, there's nothing we lack for," replied Mrs Dighton.Then, after a few more words, Lady Kilmore went away, and with a very anxious face proceeded to her husband's bedroom, who had not yet risen, but was reading the newspapers in bed, with his double glasses fixed on his somewhat prominent nose. He looked up from his paper as his wife approached him, and saw at once something was disturbing her."Well, Jeanie, what's the matter?" he asked kindly."Oh, Kilmore, it's about Clair," she answered. "I fear you are right — I should have spoken to him—about that girl.""What's the matter now?""I have just been talking to Mrs Dighton, and it seems that they have taken a house at Eastcliff until the repairs are done at Holly Hill, and this Miss Moore and Miss Dighton are at Eastcliff' now—and---""Clair went today? Well, this begins to look serious.""It's most foolish, almost wrong of him, I think," said Lady Kilmore anxiously; "wrong to the girl, who may take all sorts of foolish ideas into her head. I will point this out to him; he had better go abroad; don't you think so, Kilmore?""My dear, I don't think you need distress yourself particularly; it's foolish of Clair running after the girl; but it's her pretty face, I suppose, and the romantic notion that he saved her life. You had better speak to him quietly; I wouldn't say too much, and he's a

sensible young fellow enough, and I dare say will listen to reason.""I will speak to him," answered Lady Kilmore, and then after a little further conversation she left her husband, to spend, however, a very anxious day thinking of her son.Clair in the meanwhile was spending a very happy one. He arrived at Eastcliff about twelve o'clock, and soon found his way to Sea View Villa, and when he inquired for Miss Dighton and Miss Moore, he was told by a shiny-faced young woman that the ladies were out."Have you any idea which way they went?" Asked Clair.The young woman vanished on this question being put to her, and a few moments later Mrs Appleyard, the mistress of the house, appeared, looking as rosy and fresh as sea-breezes could make her.She curtsied when she saw the good-looking young man standing at her door and approached him."Jane says you are inquiring for the young ladies, sir," She said. "They went out about

a quarter of an hour since, and left a message that if anyone called they would be down on the sands.""Oh, thank you; then I can easily find them," Answered Clair. "Good-morning.""Who may I say called, sir?" Inquired Mrs Appleyard as Clair was turning away."Lord Clair," he replied, to Mrs Appleyard's great surprise."Lord Clair," She repeated to her hand-maiden, who was standing behind her; "but he can't be a real lord, not one of the nobles. Oh! I see now; his Christian name must be Lord—dear me, he quite took my breath away.Clair having received the information he required proceeded direct to the sands, smiling to himself as he went, for he remembered the road so well, though he had never seen the place since he was a little boy. But it had impressed itself on his memory, because at Eastcliff he had for the first time beheld the sea. There it lay now before him, the great blue-green mass of water sparkling in the morning sun. The sands wide, and as a rule smooth, were in parts ribbed with the action

of the tide, and dotted with little groups of children and their nurse-maids. Above, towered the tall cliffs, crowned with the ancient village, while the new town lay at the back, further inland.Altogether the place looked bright and sunny, but Clair as he walked on began to scan each group, and looked eagerly around, hoping to see the slender graceful form of Eva Moore.At last, seated on a rocky promontory that jutted out into the sea, near the end of the sands, he perceived two girls with white sun-shades, the outlines of whose figures seemed to him to have some resemblance to Eva Moore and Annie Dighton.Acting on this belief, he commenced to cross the slippery rocks, over which the sea washed each tide, in the direction of the two girls. With his eyes fixed on them, he was not careful enough of his footing, and suddenly stepping on a piece of tasselled brown sea-weed, he slipped and fell forward, and came down rather an awkward fall in one of the crevices of the rocks.As he did this one of the girls rose with a little cry and came towards him. It was Eva

Moore, and in a moment or two she was beside him, holding out her hand to assist him out of his anything but pleasant position."Are you hurt?" she said. "These rocks are so frightfully slippery I am always afraid to cross them.""Oh, no, I am all right," answered Clair, looking up with a smile to her as she stood on the rock above him. "Thank you for coming to help me; it was awfully stupid of me to slip!"He sprang out of his crevice as best he could as he spoke, and joined Eva, conscious, however, that be had sprained his right foot by the severe pain he felt in it. But he scarcely thought of this as he stood by Eva's side. The sea air, and perhaps the excitement of seeing him fall, had tinted her cream-like complexion with the colour of a wild rose. Never had she seemed so beautiful in Clair's eyes as she did at this moment, and she looked bright also and animated."The sea suits you," he said; "It has not made you sad or---""Disagreeable!" laughed Eva. "I see you came prepared for the worst.""No, no, I did not! I knew you would like the sea.""I like to hear the gurgle of the waves among the rocks; it is so mysterious, and the sea-flowers in some of the crevices here are lovely. But here comes Annie. Take care, Annie, and do not emulate the tragedy of Lord Clair!"Annie came towards them smilingly but carefully. Then she shook hands with Clair."Your brother is going on all right, Miss Dighton," he said; "I saw him yesterday.""Thank you; I hope you are no worse with your fall?" replied Annie."I'm afraid I've sprained my foot a bit, but it's nothing.""Is it painful?" asked Eva. "Let us sit down here for a little while, and perhaps the wrench will go off."They all sat down therefore on the rock on which they were standing, with their faces to the sea. There was a light wind and a blue sky, flecked here and there with scudding clouds, and on the waves before them a white sea-gull floated, while another hovered over-head."I like to watch them," said Eva, looking up, "And hear their weird cries.""I don't think people should be allowed to shoot them, do you?" asked Annie."Not even for ladies' hats" said Lord Clair, smiling."No, I hate to see their wings in hats; the wings meant to ride upon the storm and float upon the waves!" Cried Eva. "There! isn't that quite poetical? You must have inspired me, Lord Clair.""I wish I could," he answered, looking at her."It's the sea air, I suppose," said Eva; "but all sorts of funny ideas come into my head since we have been here. I have been speculating this morning on the nature of mermaids.""Very mischievous, I should think," smiled Clair."As to captivation of mariners? Well, of course, from a masculine view that is mischievous—to snare them down into the deep sea."To their destruction.""But why need they go?"Perhaps they can't help themselves," answered Clair with a laugh."Oh, yes, they could, if they never looked at the mermaids or any other dangerous maids.""You give advice which I cannot follow.""Then I will not throw any more away. How is your foot now? Has the pain gone off?""I had forgotten all about it, thinking of the dangers of mermaids.""In that case, Annie, I suggest that we should think of returning to Sea View House. We ordered lunch at half-past one, and by the time we get there it will be ready. You will lunch with us, won't you, Lord Clair?""I shall only be too happy.""Let us be going then," and Eva sprang lightly up.But when Clair tried to follow her example, he was painfully reminded of the fact that he had sprained his foot. He however bore it manfully, but could not help limping slightly, which Eva observing, she held out her hand to help him over the rocks."I believe your foot is worse than you will allow," She said. "What a pity it is! let me help you?"She held out her hand frankly to him, but Clair took it with tingling fingers. The slight

pressure of this girlish hand filled his whole being with emotion. He could not speak though Eva went prattling on, and when she turned round and looked in his face, wondering at his silence, she saw he had grown quite pale."Are we going too fast for you?" She asked."Not at all," answered Clair; "it is very good of you to help me on my way."Then when they reached the level sands, Eva drew her hand gently from his."Now you don't want any help, do you? she said.Clair did not speak; his foot was now really extremely painful, and by the time they reached Sea View House he was completely lame."We must get our landlady, Mrs Appleyard, to bathe it for you," said Eva; "and you must rest it all the afternoon. This is a misfortune!""I am so sorry to give so much trouble.""I am so sorry to see you in so much pain. There, take my arm; it's a pull up the hill here, and I am sure that you cannot manage it alone."Clair put his trembling hand through the

slender arm offered to him, and the sense of pain died away in that touch.Annie Dighton ran on to ring the door-bell of Sea View House, and Eva and Clair went on slowly arm-in-arm after her."How can I ever repay you for your kindness" said Clair in a low tone."There can be no question of obligation between us," answered Eva; "I do not forget —though I never speak of it—what I owe you.""To hear you speak of it fills my very soul with joy.""Why? We both know it. You saved me from a terrible death, and as long as I live---" and Eva suddenly paused."Say it gives me some claim—ever so little —on your heart" said Clair eagerly, bending closer to her, and unconsciously pressing the white soft arm his hand rested on."Hush, hush; we must not talk nonsense," she answered quickly. "Here comes Annie and Mrs Appleyard, and they will help you too. This gentleman has had an accident, Mrs Appleyard," she went on, addressing the rosy landlady; "he has sprained his foot. Do you think you could bathe it for him?""Oh yes, miss, certainly; it's the gentleman who called, I think — Mr Lord Clair?"Neither Eva nor Clair could suppress a smile at this new title.But Mrs Appleyard was a handy woman, and speedily Clair was laid on the parlour couch, and his boot taken off, and his foot, which was considerably swollen, bathed. Eva and Annie went up to their bedroom during this operation, and when Eva got there she sat down and sighed softly."Poor fellow!" she said."Yes; isn't it a pity?" Answered Annie."It is, but we must make the best of it," said Eva, starting up again. "What a blessing we ordered a good lunch, but I had a presentiment he would come today."The lunch certainly was a good one, and did Mrs Appleyard and her handmaiden every credit, but the guest did not eat much. He was too much excited, and his grey eyes scarcely left Eva's face. He also was suffering a good deal of pain; so much so that after lunch was over Eva proposed he should see a doctor."Do you think it necessary?" asked Clair."Well, sprains are rather bad things, you know," answered Eva, going up to the couch on which he was lying, and standing near him."Or will you try to go to sleep, and Annie and I will go upstairs and keep everything quiet?""I could not sleep," answered Clair, looking at her with a smile. "I am going to be awfully selfish. Will you stay with me a little while? Or is it keeping you indoors?""Of course we will stay with you. I will read to you, if you like," said Eva."I should like; but I am afraid I shall not be able to travel back to Kilmore tonight, so I must take up my quarters at one of the hotels; and I must telegraph to my mother to tell her so, or the dear woman will be uneasy."They settled it thus. Clair sent his telegram to Lady Kilmore, and Eva began reading little bits from the newspapers, and then flung them away and talked to Clair. It was not a dull afternoon in spite of the sprain, and when Annie Dighton left the room for a short while Clair was going to rise from his couch, but Eva would not allow him."No," she said, going towards him; "you must he still."He caught her hand as she spoke, and pressed his lips ardently on it."Do you know how glad I am that I fell? he said."You must not make foolish speeches," replied Eva, trying to pull her hand away."But it is not folly; it is the truth. I should rather have fallen ten thousand times as not spent this afternoon with you.""What nonsense!" cried Eva, but at this moment Annie Dighton returned, and Clair sank back on his couch, and the little scene ended.In the meanwhile, however, Clair's telegram was speeding on its way to Kilmore, and reached the Hall about five o'clock, and was at once taken to Lady Kilmore.She opened it, read it, and started to her feet with a sudden exclamation."What is the matter, Aunt Jeanie?" asked Annette Gower, who was sitting in the room."Clair has had an accident---" began Lady Kilmore,"An accident! — Clair!" cried Annette, also starting to her feet, and in an instant so deadly pale did she become that her aunt feared she was about to faint."It is not serious; he has sprained his foot," went on Lady Kilmore in trembling tones. "Are you ill, Annette?""It is nothing," answered the poor girl huskily, and for a moment or two everything grew dark around her.Lady Kilmore went up to her, and put her arm round her and led her to a couch, her own heart sinking within her as she did so.And after a little while Annette revived and drew a long quivering sigh."It was the heat made me feel rather faint," she said."Yes, dear; lie down while I take Clair's telegram to his father," answered Lady Kilmore gently. "Clair slipped on the rocks, it seems, and he is going to stay all night at Eastcliff, but he says it is not serious.""Yes, Aunt Jeanie."Then Lady Kilmore propped up Annette's head with a cushion, and having done so left the room with hasty steps, carrying Clair's

telegram with her. She went straight to the library, where she found her husband."Kilmore, I have had a telegram from Clair," She began half
breathlessly. "He has had an accident on the rocks, and has sprained
his foot, and he is not coming home tonight—and that girl is there. I must go to him at once."CHAPTER XI. A MOTHER'S ADVICE.LORD KILMORE looked up with an annoyed expression on his face as his wife made this somewhat startling announcement, and held out his hand for the telegram."What fools young men are!" he said; and after he had read the telegram he looked more annoyed still. "It was absurd of Clair to go to Eastcliff," he added."I did not think he would have done such a thing," replied Lady Kilmore, almost tear-fully; "And this accident of course—""Will form a grand opportunity for the young lady. Yes, Jeanie. I think you had better go, and bring him back with you.""Today? What about the trains?" Asked Lady Kilmore eagerly."You need not be in such hot haste as that. Go tomorrow, and I should go with you but for this confounded gout.""My dear, you are not well enough to go. I will take Annette—and yet---""You had better take Annette, and she will be a companion for you. I will look out the trains, and I should certainly not leave Clair behind you there.""Oh! no, of course not; I will stay with him until he returns with me—and I will speak to him; this acquaintance must not go on a day longer, Kilmore.""If you can prevent it; and after all, there may be nothing in it; a youth's fancy for a pretty face.""Still, I feel uneasy. Oh! what a pity it was, Kilmore, he ever went near that fire!""Not for the young woman's sake, by all accounts. However, the thing is to get him out of her way, and then I daresay he will forget all about her."They talked in this fashion a little while longer, and settled the train by which Lady Kilmore and Annette Gower were to start for Eastcliff in the morning. But when during

the evening Lady Kilmore mentioned this to Annette, she visibly shrank from the idea of going."I will go if you wish, Aunt Jeanie," She said, with downcast eyes, "but---""Would you rather not go, Annette?" inquired Lady Kilmore."I think Clair perhaps might---" hesitated Annette.The truth was that Annette had also heard from Mrs Dighton that Eva Moore and her daughter were at Eastcliff, and knew only too well, as she did so, what had been Clair's attraction to the place. He had gone to see this beautiful girl whom he admired so greatly, and Annette's heart sank within her as she recognised the fact. And she felt, too, that to go to Eastcliff, to run the chance of perhaps seeing Clair with Miss Moore, would be very painful. And perhaps Lady Kilmore guessed something of her thoughts, for after looking a moment at her young niece's downcast face, she said in her kindly way:"Or will you stay and take care of your uncle, Annette, and Barton can go with me?""Just as you like, Aunt Jeanie," answered Annette, but Lady Kilmore saw she did not wish to go to Eastcliff, and therefore arranged to take her maid with her instead.And the next morning Lady Kilmore started in the first train to join her son, and arrived at Eastcliff about twelve o'clock, and drove direct to the principal hotel in the place. She inquired if Lord Clair were staying there, and was informed that a gentleman who gave the name of Clair was."Has he had an accident to his foot?" Asked Lady Kilmore."Yes, the gentleman has sprained his foot," answered the waiter of whom Lady Kilmore was making these inquiries."Then I wish to see him. I am his mother," said Lady Kilmore."The gentleman is at present out, madam," replied the waiter; "he drove out, but he said he would return for luncheon. Shall I show you to his apartments?"Lady Kilmore therefore installed herself in Clair's rooms, and waited for his return to

lunch. But she waited in vain. The lunch hour came and passed, and there was no appearance of him; the afternoon likewise waned, but still Clair came not, and each moment added to his mother's uneasiness. At length, about half-past seven, Clair limped into the room, leaning on a stick, having heard downstairs that a lady was waiting for him, and was at once clasped in his mother's arms."My dear Clair, how did this happen?" She asked anxiously."I slipped on the rocks," answered Clair, smiling, "So I thought it best to telegraph to you; but mother, dear, there was no reason why you should have taken the trouble to come.""My dear, of course I came, and I shall stay with you until you are well enough to return with me," answered Lady Kilmore, and it must be admitted Clair's face somewhat lengthened when he heard this announcement."But it's nothing, mother; there is no occasion for you to stay," he said."Dear Clair, I will not leave you. But

do not stand; sit down here, and tell me all about it."Clair accordingly sat down, and detailed his adventure on the rocks, omitting various details that he thought it unnecessary to mention. Lady Kilmore heard nothing of the white sunshades in the distance that had lured his unwary feet into the pitfall. But she listened in her gentle, sympathising way, and it was not until after dinner that she ventured to approach the subject nearest to her heart. Clair was then lying on a couch, and his mother sitting on a chair near him, and twice she essayed to mention Miss Moore's name, but her courage failed her. We all know how easy it is to fix beforehand to say unpleasant things, and how painful and disagreeable it is to do it. Lady Kilmore had decided on the very words she intended to use to Clair when she remonstrated with him on the subject of "That girl," but she found that these words did not readily flow from her tongue.At last, however, with a decided effort she commenced."I was talking to Mrs Dighton yesterday,

Clair," She said, "And she told me that her daughter, and that other young lady to whom you were so kind during the fire at Holly Hill, are staying here. Have you seen them?""Yes, mother," answered Clair quietly."My dear," rejoined Lady Kilmore quickly, "I wish to speak to you about this acquaintance. Clair, it is not a wise one; take your mother's advice, and do not see anything more of this young lady.""Why, mother?" asked Clair, moving slightly on the couch."Dear Clair, the reason is obvious. She is not in your position of life, and any attention you pay her might be misunderstood; it is unkind even to the poor girl.""You are quite mistaken, mother," Answered Clair, raising himself up, while a flush crossed his face; "Miss Moore is a lady in every sense of the word, and not at all a person to misunderstand anyone's attentions.""Still, dear Clair---""I think I am old enough to choose my own friends, you know," interrupted Clair, as his mother paused, and then he smiled, and

held out his hand. "Don't, say anything more about this, please," he added, and then changed the conversation, which Lady Kilmore found it impossible to renew.She retired to rest, therefore, in great uneasiness of mind, but when she proposed next morning to Clair that they should return the same day to Kilmore, he made no objection."Very well, just as you like," he answered; "I'm going to make a call this morning, but after that I'll go when you wish.""Surely, Clair, you are not going to call on---" began Lady Kilmore, in consternation.Clair made no answer. He limped out of the room, and five minutes later his mother saw him drive away from the hotel door in a cab. She sat still and afraid after he was gone, trying to realise the situation. Clair was no longer a boy to be led, she plainly saw. He had asserted his right to choose his own friends, and had no doubt gone now to bid this young lady good-bye."Oh! how mad, how foolish!" murmured Lady Kilmore, speaking her thoughts aloud

in their entirety. "And she is probably some adventuress, someone who will try to take advantage of his youth. But his father must speak to him; surely he will have more influence."In fact, Lady Kilmore spent a very anxious hour before Clair's return. He came back to the hotel, looking very bright and happy, and was ready to go home by the train his mother had decided on. His foot was still much swollen, but he made very light of it, and altogether seemed in the humour to take a very cheerful view of everything. Lady Kilmore, on the other hand, felt nervous and depressed. But she did not venture to say anything more to him on the subject of Miss Moore, nor did Clair mention her name; they mutually avoided it, but this fact did not tend to lessen Lady Kilmore's uneasiness.They reached the Hall in time for dinner, but before that meal Lady Kilmore found an opportunity of speaking to her husband. He listened gravely and then smiled."After all," he said, "I don't suppose there is much harm done. Clair, like other

young men, I suppose, did not like being lectured; but if he left Eastcliff so readily it does not look as though he had any very strong attraction there. He talked of going to Scotland the end of this month, and at the Frasers' some other pretty girl is almost sure to put this one out of his head.""I only hope so," answered Lady Kilmore wistfully; and during dinner, when Lord Kilmore indulged in some mild jocularity on the subject of Clair's sprain, he took it all in very good part."Were you assisting some fair damsel over the rocks, Clair," he said, "when you came to grief?""No, father, I was alone," he answered, "but I was not looking where I was going.""A very unwise thing to do in life. 'Look before you leap' are words of wisdom."Clair laughed good temperedly. And during the next few days he said nothing about returning to Eastcliff, and Lady Kilmore began to hope her alarm had been unnecessary. In the meanwhile Clair's sprain

was mending, but he was still obliged to lay his foot up, and was thus a good deal thrown with his cousin, Annette Gower; and one day when he was lying on a couch and she was reading at the other end of the room, he noticed how ill, thin, and pale she looked."Are you not well, Annette?" he asked kindly, "for you don't look particularly flourishing."A sudden flush passed over Annette's face."Oh, yes, I am very well," she answered; and then, to Clair's great astonishment, she rose hastily and left the room, and as she did so Clair noticed that her dark eyes had filled with tears."Poor little girl, what can be the matter?" he thought; and he was so disturbed at the idea that Annette was ill or unhappy that he spoke to his mother on the subject."What is wrong with Annette, mother?" he said. "She seems nervous, and does not look well.""Yes, she looks ill, Clair; I do not know

whether I should tell you, but she got a great shock when she heard of your accident at Eastcliff," answered Lady Kilmore."A great shock when she heard of my accident?" repeated Clair, in complete astonishment. "Why, mother, how could that give her a shock?""It did, at all events, Clair," said Lady Kilmore gravely. "I got your telegram, and Annette was in the room, and I foolishly started up and cried, `Clair has had an accident,' and the next moment Annette grew deadly pale and staggered forward, and would have fallen if I had not caught her in my arms."A pained and an annoyed expression passed over Clair's face."What nonsense, mother!" he said; "she is a nervous girl.""I think she is very fond of you, Clair.""Yes, of course—as a cousin; as I am of her.""I do not know," answered Lady Kilmore so significantly that Clair
turned away his head and left the room, leaving Lady Kilmore perplexed
whether she had spoken wisely or no.CHAPTER XII.JEALOUSY.IN writing to her mother at Kilmore Hall, Annie Dighton had not mentioned Lord Clair's visit to them at Eastcliff. She did not do so by the advice of Eva Moore."What is the good of telling such a trifle?" Eva had said carelessly; but after Clair's accident, Lady Kilmore herself mentioned to Mrs Dighton that her son had sprained his foot on the rocks at Eastcliff."I wonder if he saw the girls?" replied Mrs Dighton. "I told you, did I not, my lady, that our Annie and Miss Moore are there?"Lady Kilmore gave her no further information; in fact, ignored Mrs Dighton's remarks, and made that good woman uneasy lest she had taken an unwarrantable liberty. But

after Lady Kilmore left the room she at once told her son that the young lord had been at Eastcliff, and Richard Dighton's face darkened at the news."What was he doing there, I wonder?" he said."I don't think the girls saw him," Added Mrs Dighton."I suppose Eva Moore saw him after the fire?" asked Richard."Yes, he went to call upon them at Sunny Brow, and walked with them to Holly Hill, and father saw them there. Father thinks a vast of the young lord, Dick.""Oh, he's well enough. When can we go from here, mother? I'm certain I'd get better far faster at the sea."Richard Dighton was in truth impatient once more to see Eva Moore, and jealous of Clair, though he told himself it was folly to be so. But he thought the young lord might amuse himself with Eva, and the fact that he had saved her life gave him a claim on her gratitude, though Richard Dighton had in truth a still greater claim.He was therefore restless to leave the Hall,

and his mother also felt she would be more at her ease under her own roof. But the doctor thought Richard still unfit to travel, and advised that no risk should be run.Things went on thus for a few days after Clair's return from Eastcliff, and then Clair suddenly announced he was going to run up to town for a few days."At this season, Clair" said his father, looking up from his paper."Yes, I want to meet a fellow I was at college with; he's on the point of going out to India, and I want to shake hands with him before he starts; it's Allan Fraser. I think you once saw him in my rooms at Oxford, father?""I think I did. I suppose he hasn't time to come down here?""No, I'm afraid not; he's awfully busy, but I should like to see the dear old fellow again."This conversation took place at breakfast the day following that on which Lady Kilmore had told Clair that Annette Gower had nearly fainted when she heard of his accident, and Lady Kilmore moved uneasily when she heard that Clair was about to leave home and

wondered if her words had done anything to hasten his departure.If so, he gave no hint of this, and parted with Annette in exactly the same cousinly manner with which he always treated her. He went straight up to town, and certainly met his friend there, and wrote to his mother from his hotel, but the day after went down to Eastcliff, and was ringing at the door of Sea View House when the clocks were striking five.He was shown into the drawing-room by Mrs Appleyard's shiny-faced handmaiden, and found Eva Moore alone there lying on a couch reading, and she rose with a sudden blush to receive him."You!" She said in great surprise, holding out her hand."Yes; I told you I would not stay long away," answered Clair, clasping her hand fast in his."I am surprised. I thought---""What did you think?" Asked Clair, with his eyes fixed on her face."Oh! nothing," Answered Eva. "Annie is out," She added, "but I was lazy.""Will you be lazy no longer, but go out with me?""Shall I? Very well" And a few minutes later the two were walking together along the yellow sands, and Clair was telling Eva of his love."I have been counting the hours until I could see you again," he said. "Do you know what I came back to say, Eva?""How could I know?" she answered coyly."I thought you might guess; I came to tell you what I am sure you do know—that I love you very dearly, and to ask you to be my wife?"Eva shook her head."You must not ask me that, Lord Clair.""But why" Said Clair eagerly."For many reasons.""Tell me one.""Your father and mother would not like it.""I love and respect both my father and mother," answered Clair; "but a man has a right to choose his own wife, and I have chosen mine—if I can persuade her to have me."Eva laughed softly."Why talk of it?" She said. "Let things drift on; are you not very happy as you are, Lord Clair?""Call me Clair.""Well, are you not happy, Clair" and Eva looked at him with her lustrous eyes. "You are too young to marry—too young even to think of it—and are we not dear friends?""The dearest friends!" answered Clair ardently. "But you are so dear to me I cannot bear to think of life without you; of even a day without you, so you see nothing but marriage will satisfy me."Eva was silent for a moment; then she looked again at his eager, earnest, good-looking face."Do your people know that you are here?" She asked."No," replied Clair, with an ingenuous blush."And they would say to you if they did, "Why do you run after a girl of whom we know nothing; a girl who may be an adventuress; who does not hold your own position in life?' Is not that true, now? Did not your mother say some such words to you when she came here and took you away? That was why I was surprised to see you today. I told myself, They will persuade him to drop an

acquaintance of which they naturally do not approve."Even if they did, Eva, do you think what anyone said could induce me to change to you? You cannot understand what I feel to you if you can think so. If you will give me hope, that is all I ask and care for."Eva sighed softly."You would reproach me perhaps some day if I did.""No, never, Eva; you hold my future happiness in your hands. Will you throw it away?""Let us talk of it some other time. Why don't you ask me all sorts of questions, before you are so rash as to wish to marry me?""Because I know what you are without any questions. There is only one I wish to ask, Eva.""And what is that?""Will you learn to care for me?""Have I to learn, Clair" and Eva smiled."Do you mean—am I so happy---""Hush, hush, do not go so fast! I mean we are friends, and friends care for each other,

you know. Let it rest there just now—Ah! here comes Annie just in the nick of time.""What a pity we are going to meet her" said Clair, as Annie, pretty, blushing, and shy, approached them.Eva said nothing. She met Annie as though she were well pleased to do so, and smilingly looked at Clair."Aren't you surprised to see him, Annie?" she said."A little," answered Annie, blushing more deeply, as Clair shook hands with her."Well, I was a great deal, not a little," continued Eva, still smiling. "And Lord Clair, I suppose you are not going home today?" She added."Not for many days, I expect," Said Clair, "but I did not come from Kilmore, but from town.""Oh! indeed.""And I hope I shall be able to stay here for a few clays at least," went on Clair."And today? Where are you going to dine?" asked Eva."At the hotel, I suppose," replied Clair."Oh! but that will be dull for you all alone.We have dined, but suppose we give him high tea, Annie? It will be fun; will you have high tea with us, Lord Clair?""I shall be too delighted.""Come along, then," said Eva, as though the idea amused her. And all through the evening she was in one of her liveliest moods. And as the hours wore on, the three young people seemed in the highest spirits. But by-and-by when the moon rose, and shed its white beams on the sea and on the shore, Eva went to the window, and stood there for a few moments in silence. And Clair followed her, and stood by her side in silence also."I dare say there are people walking on the sands," suggested Annie.Still Eva did not speak. Clair was standing very close to her, she could almost feel his breath on her cheek, and his near presence stirred a strange emotion in her heart. She sighed, and Annie Dighton, understanding plainly that she was not wanted, rose and left the room. And as the door closed behind her Eva looked round, and in doing so accidentally touched Clair."Is Annie gone?" she said, in a low tone."Yes," answered Clair, and he bent his head down, bent it until his cheek rested against Eva's, and again she sighed."Why do you sigh?" he whispered."Did I sigh?" She said softly."Yes—Eva—He put his arm round her as he spoke, and for a moment or two Eva did not turn away. She stood there with her young lover, and did not shrink from his touch. Then suddenly a memory darted across her mind, and she cried out impatiently---"We must not be foolish, Clair; do you hear? we must not be foolish?""Love is not folly," answered Clair passionately: "and I love you, Eva—Eva, I love you!"He drew her closer and kissed her, but the next moment Eva pushed him away."We must forget this," She said. "Clair, be wise, go away from here—and yet---""And yet what, Eva?""I shall miss you—that is like a woman, isn't it? One moment I bid you go, and the next I wish you to stay.""I will stay.""But trouble may come of it. Mrs Dighton and her son are coming in a day or two, and it will come to your father and mother's ears that you are here.""I do not care.""Oh, but you must care; you must care for your own sake, for mine. No one must know, Clair, what has passed between us today; our only chance of seeing each other, of being with each other, is that no one knows anything about it.""But how can such a thing be, Eva?""I live alone; when I go to town you can come and see me; but here you must remember that your father and mother are certain to hear if you are much with inc. And if they hear, that will part us. I don't want to part, Clair, though perhaps I should —yes, I know I should.""I will hear of no parting, Eva, my darling, my darling----""No, no, you must not speak so. Let me ring for lights.""Give me one kiss first, Eva—just one!"She turned her face to his as he spoke, and for a moment her lips lightly touched his cheek."You foolish boy!" she said, half-tenderly, and then drew away from him and did ring for lights, and when Annie Dighton returned she saw there was a strange flush on Eva's cream-like skin, and an unusual light in her dark eyes.Clair stayed late, and lingered even when he rose to go."Tomorrow?" he said, as he held Eva's hand. "What time may I call?""Lord Clair," She answered gaily, "I have frequently had to remind you, both here and at Sunny Brow, of the existence of a certain Mrs Grundy.""Oh! bother Mrs Grundy" Said Clair, half impatiently."But she exists, and we must consider her. Suppose you do not call, but that we meet on the sands at twelve?""Oh, come earlier than twelve; say eleven.""Very well, at eleven—and now good-night, Lord Clair."Then he went, still loth to go, and after he had quitted the house, Annie Dighton said in a half-frightened tone:"Do you know, Eva, I think it is very strange of Lord Clair coming here again so soon.""Why do you think it strange?""Well, you see—he's not like us.""Not in our station of life you mean. That's precisely what I told him.""I think he must be in love with you; but, of course, nothing could come of it.""Of course not!" laughed Eva, rather bitterly."And I am afraid people will talk.""Well, perhaps you had better not leave the room any more when he is here, Annie.""I think I had better not."They agreed to this, yet nevertheless when they met Clair by appointment on the sands the next day, and Annie remained steadily by Eva's side during the whole time, and also when he came to call upon them in the evening, Eva admitted to herself she felt it was a little wearisome. As for Clair, he could scarcely conceal his impatience in the bounds of politeness.In vain he tried to draw Eva apart, there still was the apparently inevitable Annie! This went

on for two days, and then Eva either took pity on herself or Clair, for one afternoon she informed Annie that she meant to go out by herself."What! with Lord Clair, Eva? You know he said he would call at four," answered Annie in a shocked tone."Yes, even with Lord Clair," rejoined Eva, with a little laugh. "Don't look so alarmed, Annie, I am not going to run away with him.""Still---""My dear, I mean to go, so don't say anything more: I find that two are company and three are not; and now I am going to dress for my walk." And with another laugh Eva turned away.And when Clair called he found only Eva waiting in the drawing-room to receive him. Annie Dighton, who felt injured, had retired to her bedroom, and to Clair's intense satisfaction Eva announced she was not going out to walk with them."Then I shall have you to myself for once," said Clair joyously.Eva laughed, and the two went out together along "the ribbed sea-sand." Clair was

happy and excited, but Eva was more subdued than usual. It was a sombre day for one thing, the sky cloudy and grey-tinted, and the sea broke on the shore with a melancholy moan."It sounds as if it were angry," said Eva. Clair turned round and looked at her with his bright smile."But you are not angry, are you," he said, "To be alone with me?""No, I am not angry, but somehow I feel rather sad. Have you ever presentiments of coming evil, Clair?""No, I can't say I have.""I have felt them, and the evil came; I wonder where they come from? If our good or our bad spirit sends them?""And do you think we each have a good and a bad spirit in constant attendance?" laughed Clair."I think we are dual creatures, at all events; that we have a good and an evil nature within us at constant warfare. One wins one day, and the other the next. This accounts for the contradictions in our actions; for our unstableness of purpose.""But you are not unstable, Eva?""Yes, I am. What says the proverb? 'Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel.' That accounts for all my failures and short-comings.""I will not listen to such heresy! Let us go and sit on the rocks, Eva, for I have so much to tell you; what I've been thinking of these two days when that tiresome little Miss Dighton would not leave us alone."In the meanwhile at Sea View House "That tiresome little Miss Dighton" Was receiving a great surprise. This was no less than the unexpected arrival of her father and mother, and her brother Richard. The doctor had the night before given Richard leave to travel, and he insisted on at once availing himself of this, and the family party had started in the morning from the Hall."We thought we would give you a pleasant surprise, my dear,"said Mr Dighton, while kisses and hand-shakings were being exchanged."And where's your friend Miss Moore? Here's Dick all anxiety." And the farmer laughed heartily."Oh!" replied Annie, still smarting from

the slight she had received about going out to walk; "Eva's out with Lord Clair.""Out with Lord Clair, my lass!" repeated Mr Dighton, in genuine astonishment. "Why, Lord Clair's in London; his lordship told me so himself this morning."During this conversation Richard Dighton's face grew a dusky red, and his dark brows met in an angry scowl."You must be mistaken, father," went on Annie; "The young lord's been here for days now, and we have often seen him.""But you never wrote to say so, Annie," said Mrs Dighton reproachfully."No, mother, because Eva said I had better not.""Well, I must say this beats everything!" exclaimed Mr Dighton. "The young lord here! Why, Annie, who is he running after? Miss Moore, I suppose?""I suppose so," replied Annie, with a little toss of her pretty head, while with an angry exclamation Richard Dighton turned indignantly away."It was cursed impudence of him to come here at all," he muttered, and as he spoke a

certain look of anxiety passed over his father's good-natured face."Nay, my lad, don't say that," he said; "Young folks will be young folks, even if they are lords, and run after a pretty face."Richard Dighton made no answer; he suddenly strode out of the room, and his mother looked after him uneasily."It's a pity you told Dick about the young lord being with Miss Moore, Annie," She said; "he doesn't like it, and I think she ought not to go walking about with the like of him; I always said so.""But, mother, you mustn't forget she owes her life to him," replied the farmer."Our Dick did more and fared worse," said Mrs Dighton, with some indignation; "And it's a queer business, the old lord telling you, father, that the young lord was in London, and us finding him here. Don't you think it has a queer look?""Pretty odd," said Mr Dighton, with a perplexed look. "But I think, mother, you had better go and look after Dick now."Mrs Dighton followed her husband's advice, and found her son in a very angry and excited mood upstairs."Don't mind, Dick, about the young lord; it's just all nonsense, I daresay," She began by way of consolation."But I do mind. He had no business to come here running after the girls, and Annie had no business to keep it a secret. It's an insult to us all, and I won't have it!"He strode angrily to the room window as he spoke, and the first sight that met his eyes was Eva Moore, fair and smiling, and Clair close to her side, approaching the house."Curse it! here they are," exclaimed Dick Dighton, and upon this Mrs Dighton at once hurried to the window also."Well, to be sure! It's the young lord, and no mistake. And how he's looking at her, just as if he could eat her, I declare! And she's a-smiling and coquetting up in his face! I wouldn't think of her any more, Dick; she's not fit for a decent man's wife if she's ready to carry on like that," said Mrs Dighton, commenting on the young couple below."Don't talk folly," answered Richard sullenly, with his gloomy eyes
also fixed on Clair and Eva. "But I'll bring him to book for all
this. Lord or no lord, I'll let him know what I think!"CHAPTER XIII.VERY DISAGREEABLE.IN the meanwhile, Eva and Clair, quite unconscious of the storm within, were smilingly approaching Sea View House, and stood talking together in the porch what seemed a very unnecessary time to several eyes that were watching them.Even the good-natured farmer felt disturbed as he noticed from the dining-room window the lingering hand-clasp and lengthened parting of the young pair."This will never do," he muttered to himself, and when at last Eva entered the room and saw Mr Dighton, the expression of his jovial face was not as its wont."Mr Dighton!" exclaimed Eva, advancing with outstretched hand, "this is quite an unexpected pleasure.""Well, my dear, how are you?" answered Mr Dighton. "So the young lord was with you, was he?""Yes," Said Eva, with a pretty little shrug and a smile; "he's been here a day or two, and he's nothing to do.""Except to walk about with you, seemingly," said Mr Dighton; "his father does not know he's here; he told me he was in London.""So he was a day or so ago, and he's going back directly, I suppose; that is how Lord Kilmore made the mistake," replied Eva calmly. "Nowadays, you know, Mr Dighton, young men do not write home every day to tell where they are going.""No, indeed," said Mr Dighton, shaking his head."He's a very pleasant companion," continued Eva."Yes, yes, so he is—but still, my dear---"At this moment the room door opened, and Richard Dighton entered with a frown on his brow."Oh! you here too" said Eva, going towards him with a smile, and holding out her hand. "I hope you are better, Mr Dighton?""It wouldn't matter much to you whether I am or not," answered Dick sullenly, and as he spoke Eva opened her large dark eyes wider, and looked at him in surprise."Why do you say that?" She said. "It does matter—it must matter, I think, when you were so dreadfully injured in trying to—help me," and Eva gave a little shudder. "I have never had the opportunity of personally thanking you yet," She went on the next moment, "but I do thank you now with all my heart.""Oh! I did nothing," said Richard, still sullenly. "I failed" and he sneered."I thank you all the same, and I have grieved very much to hear of all the pain you have gone through on my account. But I hope the change here will make you quite strong.""Oh! yes, Dick will soon pick up here," said Mr Dighton pleasantly. "Well, young folks, I don't know what kind of housekeepers you are, but I feel uncommonly peckish. But mother has come armed with hams, and eggs, and butter, as we thought we would surprise you; so we won't starve, anyhow." And Mr Dighton laughed his jovial laugh."My dear Mr Dighton," cried Eva, who liked the farmer, "You make me quite hungry by talking of all these lovely country things! But I assure you Annie has not starved me; she is a, famous little housekeeper.""Well then, Annie, see about something to eat," Said Mr Dighton, "and I'll go and look after mother and her good things, for I can tell you we all want something after the journey." And saying this, he left the room, closely followed by Annie, and Richard Dighton and Eva Moore were left alone. Almost from the very first sight of his sister's friend, Richard Dighton had conceived a passionate admiration for her, which had quickly ripened into violent love. It was quite true, and he knew it, that Eva had never given the slightest encouragement to his somewhat awkward advances. But in spite of all, the young farmer had cherished the most romantic hopes. He was really in love with Eva, and his desperate attempts to save her during the fire had proved this, and now his heart felt very bitter within him at her seeming forgetfulness of what he had gone through.He turned away his head as his father and

Annie left the room, and then the next moment looked at her, still with anger in his rather deep-sunken eyes."So," he said, "You've had the young lord here to amuse yourselves with—or to amuse him.""Both, Mr Richard," answered Eva airily. "That's well!""Yes, Lord Clair has nothing to do here, and we have nothing to do, so it has been a mutual accommodation," said Eva and she laughed.Her mirth jarred on Richard's ears, and made him more bitter still."Well, I won't let my sister make a fool of herself any longer," he said roughly."How has she made a fool of herself?" Inquired Eva, looking at him."I consider any woman makes a fool of herself who allows a man to dangle after her when he means nothing but to spend an idle hour or two.""But Lord Clair has not dangled after Annie; I was the person he came to see.""And you say this to me!" exclaimed Richard fiercely; "To me who----"Why should I not say it to you, Mr Dighton?" asked Eva calmly."Because you know—you must know," and the young man's face flushed darkly, and the veins on his forehead swelled, "That I can't bear to hear it; that I can't bear to think of any man making a fool of you; that I shall resent it.""You have no right to do so, Mr Dighton.""Yes, I have; at least you are under my father's roof."Eva was silent for a moment, then she said quietly:"I have received great kindness from you all; I am greatly indebted to you—so much indebted I can never repay it—but still, Mr Richard, this gives you no right to speak of Lord Clair as you are doing.""I think he has no right to come here; I am sure he has none.""Why?""Because, as I said before, he only means to amuse himself.""Well, and if he does, what of that?" Richard Dighton bit his lips under his dark

moustache, and turned his head indignantly away."If you look on it in that light—" he said."We all seek to amuse ourselves, Mr Dighton, so why not Lord Clair?"Richard Dighton said nothing more. He strode hastily out of the room, though only to return to it a few minutes later. Eva Moore possessed to him the old symbol of the moth and the flame. He could not resist the attraction of her near presence, though it only gave him pain.He sat down therefore to the substantial meal which Mrs Dighton and Annie presently provided, with a scowling brow and a sullen heart. Eva maddened him; love maddened him. In vain the farmer essayed his most genial jokes. Richard neither ate nor smiled, and Mrs Dighton's maternal feelings were greatly troubled. She also secretly resented Eva Moore's conduct, and blamed her for making her beloved Dick unhappy, though in truth she was not in the least to blame, though her beautiful face might be. At all events, this evening meal was not a success, and when, as the twilight gathered, the house-bell rang, and

a few moments later Clair was announced, they all felt—including Eva—that his visit was an ill-timed one.Nevertheless the farmer rose and welcomed him with the respect due to his landlord's son."How are you, my lord?" he said."Ah, Mr Dighton," answered Clair pleasantly, holding out his hand, "I did not know you were here?""Only came this afternoon, and my wife, and Dick."Then Clair looked round, for the room was very dark, and perceived Mrs Dighton and Richard. He went up to them, but Mrs Dighton received him stiffly, and Richard more stiffly still. Eva Moore, however, was or appeared to be quite at ease."We have had a pleasant surprise, you see, Lord Clair," she said; "When I came in this afternoon I found in my absence that Annie had got her father and mother and brother all with her again.""A great pleasure to Miss Dighton, I am sure," answered Clair pleasantly. "And how are you, Dighton?" he added, turning to Richard. "Nearly well again, I hope?""Yes, nearly," answered sullen Dick.Upon this Clair sat down by Eva Moore on the couch, but Eva did not remain long by his side. She rose, crossed the room, and drew a chair near the farmer's."I want you to tell me all about my pets at Holly Hill, Mr Dighton," She said. "How is Rover, and Dobbin, and Rose, and my little pet pig, and last, but not least, is the puppy old enough that you promised me for me to have him now?"The farmer laughed aloud."My dear, how many questions have you asked me at once?" he said good-temperedly. "The horses are well, and the cow, but I don't know which was the pet pig. And the puppy? He's growing a very handsome fellow, and I daresay you could have him now.""I tell you why I ask. Now that you and Mrs Dighton are here, I am no longer needed to chaperon Annie," said Eva, with a little laugh. "So in a day or two I propose to leave your hospitable roof.""Nay, nay, my dear, don't say that. Annie will feel lost without ye. Stay at least as long as we are here."Eva gently shook her head."You are very good, but I should not have stayed so long only Mrs Dighton could not be here to look after Annie. I have enjoyed my visit to you very much, Mr Dighton.""Not so much as we've enjoyed having ye, I make sure of that," said the hearty farmer. "Come, Miss Moore, promise to stay a bit longer with us."While this conversation was going on, to which Richard Dighton was eagerly listening, Clair was talking in rather a disjointed fashion to Mrs Dighton and Annie. But his heart was not in it, and it did not progress very satisfactorily. Then suddenly Eva rose and left the room for a few minutes, and on her return she resumed her scat by the farmer. Altogether, no one seemed enjoying themselves particularly, and, somehow, Clair felt that his presence was not over-welcome to the family group. He therefore, after a short stay, said he must go, and no one pressed him to prolong his visit.He shook hands with the rest, and then advanced towards Eva, who rose as he approached her."I want a word with you for a moment, outside," she said."Yes, most certainly," answered Clair, only too well pleased.She followed him, therefore, to the door of the room, while all the eyes in it followed her, and, without going out into the hall, she put a small note into his hand."I want you to study that," she said, smiling. She did not expect her action would have been seen, but as the hall lamp was lit and the room nearly dark, it was; and a fierce pang of rage and jealousy darted through Richard Dighton's heart."Thank you, I shall," said Clair, and then they shook hands and parted, and Eva returned to the room and began to talk of something else, as though she had done nothing out of the way. But this was not the opinion of Mrs Dighton. She cleared her throat, and (for her) began in a somewhat severe tone."You seem very friendly with the young lord, Miss Moore.""I like him," replied Eva carelessly."And has he been coming here much?" Continued Mrs Dighton."Oh, no; we have seen him outside once or twice. But how stupid we all are? Annie, let us sing them a song, and try to enliven them."She thus changed the conversation, but not the current of Richard Dighton's thoughts. He remained sullen and moody during the rest of the evening, and when the party broke up for the night, he hardly spoke to Eva. In the meanwhile, Clair at his hotel was studying the little note Eva had put in his hand. It was very brief, but significant."DEAR CLAIR—Don't come here any more just now; that young rustic, Richard Dighton, has been making himself remarkably disagreeable, and for the short time I now mean to stay here, I do not want any quarrels. I will see you once before I go, and will write and tell you where we can meet.Yours,
"Eva."CHAPTER XIV.AN ANONYMOUS LETTER.CLAIR read Eva's brief note many times, and was absolutely reading it again the next morning after breakfast, when a waiter entered the room, and asked him if he would see a gentleman who had called."Certainly," answered Clair, and a few moments later, Richard Dighton was ushered into the room."Ah, Mr Dighton," said Clair, rising politely, and holding out his hand, but Richard did not take it."I have not come on a visit of ceremony, Lord Clair," he said sullenly, with down-cast eyes."Ah—then may I ask---""I have come to ask you not to come hanging about my sister or her friend any

more," answered Richard roughly. "You mayn't look on them as ladies, but I mean to see them treated as such."Clair opened his grey eyes a little wider, and stared at the angry young man opposite to him in complete surprise."I utterly fail to understand your meaning," he said."It is this," retorted Richard Dighton fiercely; "You've been walking about with Miss Moore and my sister day after day, and going to my father's house in an underhand way, and I won't have it! They are not in your station of life, Lord Clair, and you had better keep to ladies who are.""You are extremely rude, and are speaking in a manner utterly improper and uncalled for. And you are also much mistaken. I regard Miss Moore in my own station of life—as a lady—or I should not have sought her society.""That's all very fine! But as long as she is with us---""Would you kindly leave the room?" interrupted Clair coolly. And with a half-muttered curse Richard Dighton did so, leaving Clair feeling greatly annoyed.Nay, he was more than annoyed—he was angry. That this young Dighton, the son of one of his father's tenants, should presume to speak to him in such a manner absolutely amazed him. Clair, at Kilmore, and indeed through all his young life, had been accustomed to be treated with respect, which his own kindness and sweetness of disposition had certainly merited. He had known Richard Dighton from boyhood, and they had always exchanged pleasant words with each other when they chanced to meet. "And for him suddenly to turn round thus, and absolutely insult me," thought Clair indignantly."I suppose he is jealous about Eva. What impudence of him ever to think of her!" went on his reflections. Indeed, this last idea ruffled him still more."It is monstrous," decided Clair; "And from Eva's note he has evidently been talking folly to her also. But I am glad I ordered him out of the room, the rude cub."It took Clair quite an hour to get over the irritation of Richard Dighton's visit. Then he went out and wandered on the sands in the hope of meeting Eva and Annie Dighton.

But no; none of the Dighton family were to be seen, and Clair returned to his hotel for lunch in anything but a happy state of mind.But he found a note lying in his room from Eva, which instantly
restored his good temper. It was very brief, but it asked him to meet
her that very afternoon, and that was sufficient to bring the sunshine
back to Clair's heart."DEAR CLAIR—For certain reasons I have decided to leave this place tomorrow, so will you meet me this afternoon to say goodbye? Come to the rocks where you had your unfortunate stumble about four o'clock, but please do not stumble again!"Yours,
"EVA."Even the news in this note did not displease Clair. Eva was leaving Eastcliff, and Clair was not sorry for this, after his unpleasant interview with Richard in the morning. He felt that he could not go to the Dightons' house now, but he felt that he could go wherever Eva was going, and then he could see

her and be with her without "That idiot," As he mentally dubbed Richard Dighton, "talking folly."So he went with a light heart to the rocks, where he had his mischance, long before the appointed hour, and sat there watching for Eva's slender, graceful figure to appear. And presently he did see her advancing in her white gown along the sands, and he rose and went eagerly forward to meet her."You got my note" said Eva, as she took his hand."Yes, I was awfully glad to get it," he answered."And yet we are going to part.""Only to meet again very, very soon though.""I don't know. Clair," continued Eva, looking at him earnestly, indeed sadly, "I've been thinking over things; I owe much to you, and I don't want to repay it badly.""How do you mean, Eva?""It would be better for you, wiser for you—not to see me again.""Eva!""Listen to me, Clair, and do not be angry.

It is not that I should not like to see you again, for indeed I should. But, if you like me in the way you said---""I do not like you, Eva; I love you with my whole heart!" answered Clair impetuously. "Do not talk any more thus, please. Not see you again! I do not know what I should feel if for a moment I believed that.""Still---""Eva, you are leaving here tomorrow, you say; now tell me where you are going.""That is just what I have been making up my mind not to do; just what I have been telling myself I should not do. You had far better forget me, Lord Clair—far, far better for yourself."Eva spoke these last words with some emotion, for her lips quivered, and her voice faltered. "I could not forget you if I would," replied Clair, also agitated. "Eva, why do you torment me thus? You know I love you, yet you are saying things that you must also know give me great pain.""I do not wish to give you pain—here are the rocks; let us sit down, Clair, and I shall tell you what I think."They sat down together on a shelving brown rock, near which there was a deep fissure, into which the sea swept and gurgled, raising the brown sea-weed, and passing over the sea flowers. With that changeful mood of hers, Eva pointed these out to Clair, talking of the beauty of their colouring, while the young man's heart was hot and restless, thinking of other things."You were going to tell me something," he said at length, almost impatiently."Yes, so I was," She answered, looking round. "Clair—if I tell you where I am going—if you come and see me, you must just be friends, you know.""You mean---""Well, to put it in a different way, you must think of me as a woman older than yourself—""I do not believe you are older," quickly interrupted Clair."Not in years, perhaps, but in mind, in everything, far, far older! You have had no troubles. I have had heaps—troubles and sorrows, Clair.""Let me shield you from them all," he answered ardently, clasping her hand."You would if you could, I believe, Clair," answered Eva softly."I will, and I can—give me the right to shield you, Eva, and you shall see."And so bring them on yourself, perhaps. Clair, you must not talk thus—you must promise, and then I shall tell you where I mean to go.""Well, tell me!""Well, promise!""I promise not to say anything you do not wish to hear forever so long."Eva laughed."Ah, Clair, Clair!" she said, shaking her head."Tell me, Eva.""I know I should not; however, I will. You must know, Clair, since Mr Richard Dighton came down here he has made himself most remarkably disagreeable. He affects to be angry about you; perhaps he is jealous.""But you have given him no cause to think---""Certainly none," said Eva decidedly; "but from the time I went to Holly Hill, he, I suppose, admired me a little.""And you?""I certainly did not admire him. I never liked him, yet he took upon himself to lecture me on your visits.""Impertinent fellow!""It was rather cool, I must say. Certainly he tried, I believe, to help me on that dreadful night at Holly Hill. He was hurt, you know, in trying, so they told me; and this, I suppose, gives him, he thinks, a certain claim. But not to be rude, and he was rude, and so I am glad to go away, and I do not wish Mr Richard to know where I am going.""Do not tell him.""I do not mean to; I mean to go to Brighton for a day or two, and write to Annie from there, and then go to my own house in town. I wish in fact to drop Mr Richard entirely, for I am getting rather frightened of him.""Frightened?""Yes, he looks so savage and sullen there is no saying what he might do, and therefore I mean to keep out of his way.""He had the impertinence to come to me this morning, and to request me not to go near you and his sister any more.""Had he really? That's just what I say; he has taken some folly or other about me into his head, which I suppose he will forget if he does not see me, but in the meantime it is very disagreeable. Therefore, when you come to see me, come to Kensington.""When, Eva?""I shall be there in a week. This is the address.""Then in a week I shall see you?""Yes, if you wish to do so, with no Mr Richard Dighton to watch you and make himself disagreeable. I live alone.""Alone?""Yes, quite alone; does the idea make you afraid, Clair?""Why should it?""That I have no chaperon; no maiden aunt, no friend to look after me? I am a solitary being, Clair, and if you are wise, you too will leave me alone.""Then I shall not be wise, Eva."She sighed softly, and leaned forward and rested her cheek against her hand."Things are so strange," she said musingly."Why do you say that?""I was thinking that when I went to Holly Hill, when I danced that first day with you in the tent, that I little imagined such a short time afterwards I should be talking to you and treating you quite like an old friend.""Then from that day, Eva, do you know what I felt to you?"She slightly shook her head without looking up."I was thinking of you, dreaming of you, that night when I first saw the red light in the sky that warned me of the fire at Holly Hill. So you see from the very first, Eva, what you were to me.""Was it fate?" She said, now glancing up with rather a sad smile."Yes, you are my fate, my beautiful fate," And he put his hand on hers."Take care I am not your baneful fate—but no, no, I must not be that. Clair, I will not, I must not injure you."He answered by some impassioned words; he sat there gazing at her, his young heart all aglow with love. Her vague warnings against herself fell on deaf ears. He could

believe nothing ill of her; to him her soul was pictured in her face.And when she rose to leave him, and held out her hand, he would not let it go. Neither of them suspected that at this moment jealous eyes were watching them, and yet this was so, for with bitter emotions raging in his breast, Richard Dighton had followed Eva at a distance when she went to meet Clair, and at a distance also now saw the two standing hand-clasped on the rocks.He could scarcely restrain his rage, crouching down there behind them hidden by a jutting crag, and yet he did so. The rebuff he had received from Clair in the morning was still rankling in his heart, and he felt that if he made his presence known to Clair now he would only be treated as he had been before. So he watched them, and the jealous anger within him grew and grew as he did so. And to do him justice, he really believed that Clair was only amusing himself with Eva Moore. It never entered his imagination that he would marry her if he could."He wishes to make a fool of her," he

told himself darkly, "but he shall not, if I swing for it."And had he heard what Eva and Clair were saying of him, he probably would have been more angry still."I must go, Clair," said Eva, smiling; "Consider if I were to encounter my rustic and most unpleasant swain, Mr Richard Dighton.""Oh! confound the fellow!" answered Clair."It's best to keep out of his way, I feel sure; he has a sullen, dangerous look in his eyes that I don't quite like.""He had better not come in my way, I can tell him, or do anything to annoy you.""He won't annoy us in Kensington; so please leave him alone."Then, after a few more words, Richard Dighton saw them part, and he remained where he was until they both left the rocks. But an idea had entered his brain there; an idea which he believed would soon end the acquaintance of Lord Clair and Eva. He would write anonymously to the Earl, and tell him how his son was conducting himself at Eastcliff, and he believed that this would effectually separate them.In the meanwhile Eva was walking towards Sea View House, and as she did so her expression changed and saddened."Poor fellow!" she murmured more than once to herself; "poor, poor Clair."And when she reached Sea View, she went straight to her bedroom, and locked the door behind her after she got there."I should not have told him," She was thinking in self-reproach. "I meant not to tell him, but he looked so dear, so honest, that I could not resist. It's folly, madness—but I am afraid I like him too well."She sat down and sighed wearily, and it was not until Annie came and rapped at the door to tell her tea was ready that she roused herself. She did this with an effort, and went downstairs, where she found Mrs Dighton and Richard."Well, Miss Moore, so you have been out for a walk, Annie tells me" said Mrs Dighton as she entered."Yes, a short walk," replied Eva."I hope you enjoyed it?" remarked Richard, disagreeably."Not particularly," said Eva, and then

she began talking of her journey on the following day to Brighton, and Richard sat listening, wondering if Clair would follow her there also, and determining at the same time to do so himself.And he did not go to bed until he had accomplished his idea of writing to Lord Kilmore. And this letter took him much time and thought to compose. It was written in a vindictive spirit, and he could hardly disguise this in his words. He commenced it again and again, and could not satisfy himself. He wanted to abuse Clair, but his common-sense told him this was unwise. He must write a friendly warning, and not let Lord Kilmore suppose that it was written by an enemy of his son. At last, as he could make no better of it, he sent the following lines, going out to post his letter after the rest of the family had all retired for the night."MY LORD," began Richard, "This is written to warn you that your son Lord Clair is here, and paying marked attention to a young lady named Miss Moore, whom it is said he assisted to rescue during a fire. This

is written by a friend who feels sure that your lordship would not approve of his conduct, the young lady being in a completely different position of life to himself, and her friends also greatly object to an intimacy from which no good can result.—And I remain, your lordship, your obedient servant,"A FRIEND."Richard having posted his letter felt happier, having no doubt that it would at once cause his parents to look after Lord Clair. Therefore at breakfast the next morning, he was not quite so sullen in his manner to Eva as he had been since his arrival at Eastcliff. She was going away, too, and the real love, or rather passion, in his heart made him anxious to remove any bad impression he had made from her mind. And she looked so handsome, too, as she sat opposite to him, that he could scarcely take his eyes from her face. She was going to start in an early train, and Richard asked if he might escort her to the station, to which Eva smilingly assented."Annie is going with me, too," She said, "but I am very sorry to go."She was not really, though. She was half

afraid of this young man, and of the jealousy he had so plainly shown of Clair. She knew something of the darker passions of men's hearts, and felt it was playing with fire to arouse those of Richard Dighton. She was pleasant and gentle in her manner to him, therefore, but this was all. She had in truth never encouraged his admiration; in fact, despised it. But she did not show this; she simply ignored it."And how long will you stay at Brighton?" Richard asked, going to her side, as she stood a few minutes at the window looking out at the sea."I am not sure," she answered, turning round."If I go there to see you, will you cut me?" went on Richard."Certainly not; why should I cut you, Mr Richard?""That's all right, then; I will go," said Richard, and Eva decided at this moment, what she had indeed intended before, that her stay at Brighton should be a very brief one, and after she left there that her future residence should be a secret from the Dighton family.But she gave no hint of this. She thanked Mr and Mrs Dighton for their kindness and hospitality very prettily, and the farmer more than once told her that she would be always a welcome guest on their return to Holly Hill.Then the cab came to take her to the station, and Annie and Richard accompanied her there. Eva had asked Clair not to go to see her off, as the Dightons were sure to be with her, and Clair unwillingly had promised not to appear.And at the very time when the brother and sister were taking leave of her, Richard's letter to Lord Kilmore was being opened at the Hall. Breakfast was over, and the post-bag had just been brought in, and among other letters was one bearing the Eastcliff postmark. Lord Kilmore glanced at it, opened it carelessly, and then read it, and frowned as he did so. But he said nothing. His wife and Annette Gower were in the room, but Lady Kilmore noticed that he looked annoyed, and when he rose and gathered his letters together to leave the breakfast-room and go to the library, he beckoned to his wife to follow him.Lady Kilmore did so, feeling anxious, for

her thoughts had at once flown to her son, and there was something in her husband's manner that made her uneasy. When she reached the library she closed the door behind them, and looked at Lord Kilmore."Any news, Kilmore?" She said."Yes," he answered gravely; "If the news in this letter be true, it is a great blow to me, Jeanie, for I must cease to believe in Clair.""In Clair!" repeated the mother, and her face paled."Yes; this letter states that he is now at Eastcliff; that he is constantly with that girl Miss Moore; and yet the last letter I had from him was from his club in town. He must have gone there purposely to deceive us.""Oh, Kilmore, this cannot be true!"Lord Kilmore answered by placing the letter in his wife's trembling hand, and when she had read it tears rushed into her eyes."Oh! this is terrible," She said. "You must go to him, Kilmore; you must try to save him!""I am very much disgusted with him," replied Lord Kilmore; "I did not think our son would have acted a lie."CHAPTER XV.A FATHER'S WARNING.LADY KILMORE caught her husband's hand imploringly, as he uttered these harsh words."Oh! don't speak thus, Kilmore," She said tremulously; "Thus of our boy!""I have very good reason to be angry with him, Jeanie.""He has been foolish, but consider how young he is, Kilmore, and this woman may be some artful person—besides, this letter may be false.""It does not seem to be so," Said Lord Kilmore, again reading the anonymous letter; "It is probably written by some one who knows us, by name at least, and thought it only kind to let us know about Clair, though," he added after a moment's pause, "I admit I do not like anonymous letters.""Nor I: if there is anything to tell, why not do it openly?""Still, there is no doubt that this ought to be inquired into. If Clair has been at Eastcliff—and what motive could the writer have if he has not?—he has intentionally deceived us, and it is my duty to see into this. I will go today.""I will go with you then, Kilmore—but are you well enough to go, dear?""I should rather you did not go, Jeanie; I would rather see Clair alone. Besides, I wish my visit to be kept as quiet as possible, which could not be if you went also."After some further anxious conversation Lady Kilmore agreed to this plan, and Lord Kilmore started for the station in time to catch the mid-day train to Eastcliff, leaving his wife in a most unhappy state of mind. She tried to hide this from Annette Gower, but could not, for she was so restless and disturbed, and unlike herself during the whole day."Is there anything the matter, Aunt Jeanie?" At last asked Annette.Lady Kilmore hesitated for a moment."Something has worried me a little," she

then said, and Annette immediately began to think—Could it be anything about Clair?And so the hours passed anxiously for both the aunt and niece, and when Lord Kilmore arrived at Eastcliff, his mind was also anything but relieved on the subject of his son.It chanced that almost the first persons that he saw on the platform as he left the train at the seaside village were Mr Dighton of Holly Hill, and Richard. The farmer saw the Earl alight, but did not intrude himself until Lord Kilmore's eyes fell upon his substantial and well-known form. Lord Kilmore at once bowed, and then Mr Dighton approached his landlord."Ah, Mr Dighton," said the Earl, "So you are here, are you?""Yes, my lord, for a day or two. I brought my wife and Dick down, you see," answered the farmer."And how is your son getting on?""Oh, very well, my lord. Dick, come along, my lad; here is his lordship, and you must thank him for all his kindness to you at the Hall."Richard Dighton accordingly now approached his father and Lord Kilmore, who asked him kindly after his health."And have either of you seen my son here?" he added inquiringly."Yes, my lord," replied Mr Dighton, with a certain uneasiness of manner which did not escape Lord Kilmore's notice; "The young lord has been here for a day or two, and I saw him the first day we came.""I saw him yesterday," said Richard Dighton, without looking up."Ah!—I'll find him at some hotel, I suppose; perhaps either of you gentlemen. would be good enough to direct me to where he is likely to be found, for I have not been to this place for many years, and I hear it is greatly changed.""That it is, my lord; new-fangled and the like. Lord Clair is staying at the North Star, isn't he, Dick?""Yes, father.""We will walk to the North Star, then," smiled Lord Kilmore; and accordingly the three proceeded together to the new part of the town, where Clair had been staying. And on
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the way the Earl enquired about the repairs at Holly Hill, and alluded to the fire."Is the young lady still with you," he asked, "Who so nearly lost her life?""No, my lord, she left this morning," replied Mr Dighton; "She's gone to Brighton.""Ah! she had a narrow escape. I'm told she is a handsome girl!""That she is, and no mistake; and she's a nice one too, my lord," said the farmer."Yes," answered Lord Kilmore, and then he changed the conversation. He did not wish the farmer to suspect his motive for coming to Eastcliff, though Richard Dighton of course knew it well.The father and son parted with Lord Kilmore after pointing out the North Star, and when the Earl arrived there, and enquired for Lord Clair, he was told that his lordship had left Eastcliff in the midday train for town."For town?" Asked the Earl quickly."Yes, sir," Answered the waiter to whom Lord Kilmore was addressing his inquiries; "his lordship's luggage was directed to his club in town."There was nothing further therefore to ask. Clair had been at Eastcliff and had left on the same day as this Miss Moore, reflected the Earl grimly enough, and Brighton was very accessible to London. Altogether the affair looked very unsatisfactory, and Lord Kilmore ate the dinner he ordered at the hotel with an uneasy heart, and started back for the Hall by the very first train he could catch.It was late when he arrived there, but he found his wife up, and anxiously awaiting him. And the moment Lady Kilmore looked on her husband's face she saw he did not bring good news."Have you seen him?" She asked quickly."No; he had left Eastcliff today, but he had been there for several days, as far as I could gather.""Oh! Kilmore—and this girl?""The girl also left today; she went to Brighton, and Clair to town; in fact, Jeanie, I think it very unsatisfactory."Lady Kilmore clasped her hands, and her lips quivered."Oh! if after all our hopes, he wrecks his life!" she murmured in great distress."We must try to prevent him doing so. I shall go up to town tomorrow and see him, and I shall point out to him the extreme folly and imprudence of his conduct. Come, Jeanie, don't cry; I will use all the influence I have to stop this affair going any further."But Lady Kilmore could find small comfort. She was devoted to Clair; had been from the time when his baby eyes first looked in her face, and to think of this infatuation for an unknown girl was most grievous to her heart. She put no obstacle in the way, therefore, of her husband going up to town on the following day, and entreated him, if possible, to bring Clair back with him. And Lord Kilmore did go. He was in indifferent health, and rarely left the country, but this business about Clair seemed to him to be too urgent to be neglected for a day.He started, therefore, on the following morning, and reached London about seven o'clock, and drove at once to the club, of which he also was a member, where he expected to find, or at least hear some news,

of his son. Lord Clair was there, he was told—in the smoking-room, and thither Lord Kilmore proceeded, and seated in a divan chair, smoking and reading the evening papers, he found Clair, who started up in great surprise, and it must be admitted, some consternation, when he saw his father approaching him."Why, father, who ever expected to see you?" he exclaimed.Lord Kilmore gravely shook hands with him, and there was something in his father's manner that made Clair sure that he had come on no ordinary purpose."Is there anything the matter?" he asked quickly. "Is my mother---""Your mother is well, Clair," answered Lord Kilmore, as Clair for a moment paused. "But I have come up to town on purpose to see you, and you had better go with me to the hotel where I mean to stay."Clair made no objection to this plan, and together they drove to the hotel, Lord Kilmore's manner still continuing very grave during the drive, and when they found themselves in a private room, Lord Kilmore

did not hesitate to announce his purpose to his son."I have something very serious to say to you, Clair," he began.Clair's face slightly flushed, but he looked with his grey eyes steadily in his father's face."Yes, father," he answered."It is this; you left home to see your friend, young Fraser, before going to India, you told me, yet I find you in reality went down to Eastcliff, and have been there some days. Is this true, Clair?""Yes," Said Clair, after a moment's hesitation, "I did see Fraser, and then I went to Eastcliff.""And your motive?"Again Clair hesitated."Your motive," Continued Lord Kilmore severely, "Was to run after, and constantly be with the young woman you rescued during the fire at Holly Hill. Is this right, Clair?""I see no harm in it, father.""No harm! What right have you to trifle with the affections of any young woman to whom you possibly could have no honourable intentions?""I certainly did not mean to trifle with Miss Moore's affections," answered Clair sturdily."But you are doing so. What you did for her gives you a certain claim on her regard, and you have no right to take advantage of this, by paying her attentions that can mean nothing. I received a letter, an anonymous letter, informing me that you were constantly with her, and that her friends objected to your being so.""That is utterly untrue, whoever wrote it. Did you bring the letter, father?""Yes," Said Lord Kilmore, producing Richard Dighton's letter from his coat pocket, and handing it to Clair, who grew very red as he looked at its contents."I think I know who wrote this," he said angrily; "it's a piece of monstrous impertinence.""But it states what is true, I suppose?""No, it does not, father; Miss Moore had no friend at Eastcliff to object to any attentions of mine. The one person who did, I believe, wrote this letter, merely for the purpose of making mischief.""Even if that is so, you see your conduct is exposing this young person, Miss Moore, to injurious remarks.""That is impossible!""But it is so! Clair, as a gentleman you have no right to act thus."Clair began to walk up and down the room impatiently; then he suddenly stopped and stood before his father with a certain nobleness of expression on his good-looking face that the Earl did not fail to notice."You are mistaken, father," he said bravely. "You are speaking as though I meant to do Miss Moore some injury. But this certainly is not so, for I have asked her to be my wife.""Asked her to be your wife!" repeated Lord Kilmore, aghast. "Are you utterly mad Clair?""I see no madness in what I have done, and, moreover, she refused me.""Boy," said the Earl, in strong indignation, "how dare you trifle thus with the family honour?""I do not consider that I have done so.""Then I tell you that you have! Who is this girl that you have invited to take your

mother's place, and what do you know of her? Absolutely nothing!"Lord Kilmore was a man who prided himself on his philosophic calmness of temper under all the aggravations of life. But this was a little too much for his philosophy. That his son, his heir, should have dared to ask a young woman to marry him who was, and must be, in a perfectly different position to himself, almost took the Earl's breath away. He looked at Clair with his eyes full of anger, and not a little contempt. He was thinking he was a fool, and an obstinate fool to boot."Do you tell me," he repeated, "That you have absolutely asked this girl to marry you?""Yes, father," answered Clair sturdily."Then I tell you," Shouted the Earl, "That I will not allow it! I'll see this girl, and tell her you won't have a penny during my lifetime if you commit an act of such outrageous folly. Marry a girl whom you met staying with a tenant farmer indeed! It's preposterous; you must give this up, Clair; I insist on it.""I told you she refused me, father.""I don't believe in her refusal; that is probably a clever move to make a soft young fool more in love with her; for you are a fool, Clair, to make such an ass of yourself.""Really, father, you are using very strong language.""No language, in my opinion, can be too strong for such folly. That you, my heir, the future head of the house, should for a moment have thought of such a thing is to me inconceivable. Even if you were what is called in love with her, you should have some self-control. You owe it to your birth, to your name."Clair was silent, but the Earl perceived no signs of yielding in his face."I have some claim upon you at least," continued Lord Kilmore, "And your mother has some claim; promise me, Clair, for our sakes, to give up this insane idea, to see this young woman no more.""I cannot do so, father.""You cannot?" cried the Earl, again raising his voice; "You tell me this to my face? You, almost a boy, dare to put your will against your parents, and talk of marrying a girl of whom you know nothing? Who is she?

Who are her friends, and where does she come from?""I cannot answer such questions, they are an insult to Miss Moore.""Because you don't know, I suppose," said the Earl, with a bitter and derisive laugh. "She's some handsome adventuress, I'll be bound for it; there are scores of such to be met with in the world, and that you'll find out before you're many years older. I should not be surprised if it were a regular scheme to get hold of you; she may have heard from her friend, Miss Dighton, that the young heir of Kilmore was coming of age on such and such a day, and have absolutely gone down to Holly Hill on purpose to try to make a conquest of you. Oh! yes, you may smile and sneer, whichever you like, but I have not the least doubt that this is the truth.""Well, in justice to Miss Moore, I must tell you that she especially requested me not to pay her any attention; that far from trying to entangle me, she threw cold water on all my advances.""Oh! yes, I dare say, and then little by little relented. Clair, I know the world and

such women better than you do, and before I married had my temptations and follies like the rest. But when a young man in your position talks of marrying, it is a different affair.""But, father---""My dear boy, do not speak such folly any more. If you want a wife, choose one in your own position of life; one who has no secrets in the past, whom you can take from her father's house. Such marriages only are satisfactory, and it would be a miserable thing for your mother and myself if our only child were to make a fool of himself with an adventuress.""But Miss Moore is not an adventuress," Said Clair indignantly."Whatever she is, she is no match for you. Clair, come home with me; keep out of this woman's way, and some day you will be thankful that you followed my advice."Again Clair was silent; he was fond of his father, and he had never seen him angry and what he thought unjust before. Lord Kilmore, in truth, was a kind and affectionate both husband and father. But Clair's "folly" had provoked him out of his usual frame of

mind, and he was certainly not acting with his usual good sense to speak to Clair as he was doing. Clair perhaps felt naturally indignant to be treated as if he were a boy, though he suppressed his anger out of respect to his father. But he speedily excused himself from remaining any longer at the hotel, as he said he had a dinner engagement he was bound to keep. Thus Lord Kilmore dined alone, and after dinner wrote to his wife, telling her he had seen Clair, but suppressing, out of consideration to her feelings, the painful—to him—nature of the interview.But the more he thought of Clair's words, the more uneasy he became. That Clair was warmly attached to "This girl," As he mentally designated Eva Moore, he plainly perceived. And he also believed that no young woman in her position of life would really hesitate to marry his son if she could possibly do so. Her refusal of Clair was all nonsense, he told himself, and only showed she was deeply designing. Altogether, the whole affair was most vexatious, more than vexatious, and after spending a restless night, the Earl telegraphed next morning for his son to come to him.Clair went, but this meeting was equally unsatisfactory as the former one. Nothing that his father could say would induce him to promise that he would give up his acquaintance with Eva Moore."I think it is a subject on which no man has a right to dictate to another," he said."And you are such a very old man, Clair," replied Lord Kilmore, a little scoffingly."I am old enough at least to choose my own friends," retorted Clair, and in the end a very serious disagreement arose between the two, and they finally parted on anything but good terms."If you have anything to do with this woman, you will bitterly repent it," was the Earl's parting admonition to his son. But Clair merely bowed, and muttering that he was an obstinate fool, Lord Kilmore turned away, and as he was feeling anything but well, and saw that his words and advice were quite wasted, he decided to leave town, and went back to Kilmore, carrying his ill news with him to the anxious mother.CHAPTER XVI.A QUEST.Eva Moore had scarcely gone from Eastcliff when an overpowering restlessness took possession of Richard Dighton's heart to see her again. A letter to Annie arrived from her two days after she had left, dated from Brighton, and telling Annie vaguely she hoped she would soon see her again. But she gave no especial invitation, and never mentioned the name of Lord Clair. Annie showed this letter to her brother, and he read it eagerly, noting the address, and mentally determining that he would find some excuse to go to Brighton to see her. Eva said nothing in her letter about leaving shortly; in fact, inferred that she meant to make some stay. The Misses Richards from Sunny Brow were coming

on a visit to Annie for a few days at Eastcliff, and Richard Dighton took advantage of this, and told his mother that as he "could not bear these two women," he meant to go to Brighton while they were with them.Mrs Dighton sighed uneasily at this announcement. She knew quite well why her son wished to go to Brighton, and she was not at all satisfied in her mind about Eva Moore and Lord Clair."Don't you think it will seem rude to them for you to go while they are here?" She suggested."Don't care whether they think it rude or not," replied Richard.Again Mrs Dighton sighed, but she said nothing more. She wished Richard to be happy, but she saw he was not, and she was uneasy. She told her husband that she was afraid Miss Moore was quite unsuited for a farmer's wife, and that she did not believe that she would "settle down with Dick after carrying on with the young lord.""My dear, in my opinion, she won't have Dick," replied the farmer. "But don't cross the lad; let him try his chance if he has a

mind to, and if Miss Moore does marry him, she's not a girl, or I'm much mistaken, to look at anyone else."Thus Richard Dighton met with no opposition from his parents regarding his proposed visit to Brighton, and just one week after Eva Moore had gone there, he also proceeded thither, and having engaged a room for a week at the Grand, went with a fast-beating heart to the address that Eva had given Annie in her letter.He found the house, which was not a pretentious one, and having inquired for Miss Moore, was told to his dismay that she had left two days before."Left!" repeated Richard, "Why, she only came a week ago.""Yes, I know, sir," Answered the servant who had opened the door; "She took the rooms for a week, but she said she had to go to London quite suddenly, and so she went last Tuesday."Richard Dighton's heart sank within him as he listened to these words.To London! And Lord Clair was in London, and these two might meet; perhaps

she had gone there to meet him, thought Richard, with a bitter, jealous pang."Did she leave any address?" he asked harshly."Not that I know of, sir, but I'll ask the missus," replied the maid, and presently the landlady appeared, who was red of visage, and apparently of uncertain temper."You're asking for Miss Moore, I understand, sir," She began; "but I know nothing of her, and I don't think she behaved as I expected.""How was that" said Richard."Well, she came here and took the rooms for only a week certainly, but I understood her that if they suited she meant to stay on. But she just stayed four days exactly, and then packed up, and was off. I don't call that exactly good behaviour.""But she would pay for the week, I suppose?" inquired Richard, who was anxious to prolong the conversation, in the hope of hearing something more of Eva."In course, she paid for the week," Said the landlady irately. "She shouldn't have stirred from here unless she had done what's honest.

But I consider she was doing the rooms an injury just to stay four days, as if she wasn't comfortable, though that's impossible.""And she gave you no address where she was going to in London?""Not a word; she just said one morning, 'Mrs Midge, I am going today; I've been suddenly called to London,' and off she went before twelve o'clock in the day in a cab, taking her luggage with her; but if she was called suddenly to London it was not by letter, for none came for her when she was here.""No letter? Did any telegram come, then?""Not one, sir; my opinion is she came intending only to stop four days, and I don't call it good behaviour.""Did anyone call to see her?""Not a soul crossed the door, sir; if she has any friends," added Mrs Midge spitefully, "They weren't particular in their inquiries.""She has friends," retorted Richard, who did not like the landlady's tone; "my sister and my mother are friends of hers.""Eh, dearie me, sir," said Mrs Midge, now dropping a curtsey, and changing her manner,

"don't think I'm saying anything against the young lady, for she was always pleasant spoken; but being a widow, with many calls, for them rates and taxes are just enough to break a lone woman's heart, I can't afford to stand empty, and I felt hurt that Miss Moore should go so soon, when I hoped for a month at least."Richard Dighton put his hand into his pocket and produced half-a-crown."Will you take that?" he said, which offer Mrs Midge accepted with avidity. "And you are quite sure she left no address lying about her rooms?""None that I know of, sir; but come in and look, and welcome, and I'll be pleased to show the rooms."Richard accordingly followed the landlady upstairs, and was ushered by her into the drawing-room, the door of which she opened with some pride."It's a nice room, sir," she said, looking round her apartment, "and was fresh papered two years ago last October, and I had a new rug and irons at the same time, though, as I was saying, all these things press very hard on

me in my present state, and any little help is very acceptable. Yes, sir, that is the desk where I have seen Miss Moore sit a-writing; you can open it, sir; perhaps there may be an address inside, for I have never looked."Richard Dighton on this permission eagerly opened the little ordinary desk, which stood on a little ordinary table near the window, and inside he found a few scraps of paper which had apparently been used to cover some small parcel. He examined the torn pieces of paper closely, and on one was written the word Kensington. The rest of the address, if there had been any, was not there. Only this single word, and as he looked at it Richard remembered that Eva Moore had been at the same school at Kensington as his sister Annie. This was then probably part of the wrapper of some old parcel. Still, Richard Dighton took it away with him."May I keep this?" he said."Oh! certainly, sir," replied Mrs Midge affably; "And as I was saying, sir, any little help is most acceptable."Upon this hint Richard produced a second half-crown, and after looking all round the

room he took leave of Mrs Midge, and returned to his hotel in a very desponding frame of mind.He had gone to Brighton on purpose to see Eva Moore, and he had missed her, but there was a certain obstinacy in his disposition that made him determined to find her, and his jealousy of Clair grew yet stronger as he remembered that Clair might know where she was, though he did not.He started to his feet, he bit his lips, as this idea stung his heart. He hated the young lord; hated him for his good looks, for his easy grace of manner, which Richard Dighton knew that he himself did not possess. And he easily persuaded himself that Clair meant to wrong Eva, and that he with his truer love had a right to defend her. He finally determined to go to London to try and find her, though he had no chart to help his quest, except the one word "Kensington," and the knowledge that Eva had been a boarder at a school there, where his sister Annie had finished her education.But he would try; so he left Brighton, and went up to town, and took rooms near the

street where Annie had been at school. He called upon the lady who kept this establishment, and having announced himself as the brother of her late pupil Miss Dighton, said that his sister was anxious to know where her friend Miss Eva Moore was now living, and had asked him to call and inquire.But the lady shook her head. She had never heard of or seen Miss Moore since she left her roof, and had no information whatever to give. Thus Richard Dighton gained nothing by his visit, and used to wander up and down the streets and squares of South Kensington in the vain hope of meeting or catching a glimpse of Eva Moore.A fortnight passed thus; the weather was hot and sultry, and Richard Dighton's funds were running low, and he was becoming impatient and irritable, and still he could see or hear nothing of Eva. Then he took to going to different stations and watching the passengers leave the trains, eagerly scanning the different faces as he did so. But all were strangers to him, and disheartened and weary he would turn away. This went on day after day; his people at home were

becoming uneasy about hint, and still Richard Dighton lingered in town. At last one night, while he was standing idly outside Earl's Court Station, looking at the passers-by, at the women with their baskets of half-faded flowers, at the stir and bustle of the street, suddenly a soft laugh fell on his ears which made him start and turn quickly round.A train had arrived a minute before in the station below, and the passengers were now coming up, and this laugh—low, musical, and sweet—proceeded from one of them. Richard Dighton knew that laugh, and in the semi-darkness he eagerly scanned the little crowd passing him on their way from the station, and his eyes quickly fell on Eva Moore and Clair!He recognised them in a moment. They passed him closely, but never saw him, and just as they went by Richard heard a few words fall from Eva's lips."What a boy you are, Clair!" She said, looking smilingly up in her companion's face.Clair! The word echoed through Richard Dighton's heart with a fierce pang of jealousy and rage. What! it had come to this, then,

he thought. She called him Clair; she was with him, alone; and as the two, unconscious of his presence, passed on, Richard Dighton followed them, dogging their footsteps at a sufficient distance to prevent them noticing him.They passed the conservatory a little distance from the station, they went on down the main street for some distance, and then turned into a side street, finally stopping before a pretty-looking small house with a balcony and a red-striped awning. Clair rang the bell of the door of this house, which was opened, and the two entered together, and then the door was shut, and Richard Dighton stood outside in a state of mind almost impossible to describe.He himself could scarcely realise it. Rage, hatred, jealousy, some of the darkest passions of our nature, were all surging together in his soul with overwhelming force. He at once put the worst construction on this intimacy of Clair and Eva. They were living together, he told himself. This scoundrel of a lord had taken advantage of the service he had done Eva to ruin her life. Richard set

his teeth hard and clenched his hands, and vowed bitter vengeance as he stood there in the quiet street in the starlight. And presently he heard voices above him—Eva's voice, though he could not hear the words. They were out on the balcony, talking and laughing, little guessing of the dark-faced listener below with black despair on his brow and heart.It was all over, he felt, at this moment of extreme bitterness. This woman, whose beautiful face had cast a spell over his life, was unworthy of a thought. But none the less did Richard Dighton think of her; none the less did he vow to avenge her wrongs.It was an insult to them all—to his mother, Annie, and himself. Lord Clair had met Eva Moore when a guest under his father's roof, and this was the respect he had shown to them all!A snatch of song from above broke in upon his dark reflections. It was Eva singing a pretty verse, and by-and-bye she went inside and played the melody of the song, and then came back to the balcony and sung it through.

Then Clair clapped his hands in applause, and cried "Bravo" and Eva's soft laugh floated on the night air.This mirth and seeming light-heartedness maddened Richard Dighton. What! she could laugh and jest, could she, in her dishonour? This woman, who had darkened his life and made it all bitterness to him, felt neither pity nor regret. He had risked his life three times to save hers, and she never gave him a thought. But she shall rue her sin, swore Richard Dighton, and even as the oath lingered on his lips the house door opened, and, to his surprise, Lord Clair came out.He appeared so suddenly that Richard had not time to make up his mind how to act. And as he hesitated Clair whistled for a hansom, and one came up, and the next moment he was gone. To attempt to follow him was, Richard knew, useless. Should he force his way into the house and upbraid Eva? But that too would be useless, Richard thought, darkly. She would probably again disappear if she thought she were watched. He could not take his vengeance so easily

if his presence were known. He would watch and wait, and so gloomily he paced up and down the street for hours, until the city clocks chimed midnight; until the first faint tinge of dawn spread on the summer sky. But he saw and heard nothing. The lights had been all put out in the little house with the balcony soon after Clair left, and he did not return."But tomorrow," Thought Richard Dighton darkly, "tomorrow I shall know."END OF VOL. I.London: DIGBY, LONG & COMPANY, Publishers,18 Bouverie Street, Fleet Street, E.C. Advertisement included in back of Russell's "The Hidden Chain" Advertisement included in back of Russell's "The Hidden Chain" Advertisement included in back of Russell's "The Hidden Chain" Advertisement included in back of Russell's "The Hidden Chain" Advertisement included in back of Russell's "The Hidden Chain" Advertisement included in back of Russell's "The Hidden Chain" Advertisement included in back of Russell's "The Hidden Chain" Advertisement included in back of Russell's "The Hidden Chain"