beck, swollen with the autumnal rains. Up, further up; now passing warily over a treacherous peat-bog, whereon flakes of white cotton-grass still flickered in the autumn wind, and now skirting the edge of a scar of precipitous rock. Up, up, until at last Mouse could go no farther, and Evelyn, leaving him with her squire, went on with Floss. Ten minutes' hard walking brought her to the summit of the Edge, and then she turned round and faced the fresh breeze and the sunset. It was a glorious sight, that which met her view. The sun was low in the Western sky, which burned in hues of amber and pale yellow, which, as they ascended the heavens, changed into a tender green. In and over all this floated long crimson and purple cloudlets, tipped with flame. Afar off, a doubtful shimmer seemed to mark the Irish Sea. Below, the long, winding valley of the Arrow lay for the most part in shadow, while far above, on either side, the tops of the great hills reflected the sunset lights, and seemed to burn in answering tints of glory. At last, the sun sank into a bank of clouds, and a half-darkness shrouded the scene. It was then that a singular circumstance took place. Suddenly, through some rifts in the cloud-bank, unseen at the height on which the girl stood, the sun's rays burst forth, and for a moment

K

illumined the knoll and house of Holmcastle, and far above it, at the entrance of its solemn amphitheatre of hills, the Long Maen of Stanwick, the earliest known possession of her race. Then again the clouds rolled together with majestic movement, and darkness strode on apace.

It is hard to describe the effect which this natural phenomenon had on the highly-strung and imaginative mind of Evelyn Manwaring. She immediately connected it with what a soberer judgment would have concluded it could have no connection-her belief, namely, that she saw her brother Wilfred's name re-instated in the family pedigree. This may have been-perhaps it was, for it is hard to trace the secret connection between mind and matter— because she at that moment stood on the very spot where her lost brother had performed his proudest act of boyish prowess-the killing, namely, of the golden eagle which, as we have seen, was the favourite ornament of his room. Be that, however, as it may, Evelyn, for the first time since her last bereavement, felt a thrill of hope, almost of joy, and with lightened step she sprang down the steep descent, and speedily rejoined the young farmer and her pony. Needs not to say it was long after dark when she arrived at the Manor.

It had been arranged that, instead of visiting the Elthornes at the Rectory, Evelyn should be their guest in a small house, which, for the benefit of his wife's health, the Rector had hired for a couple of months, upon one of the inlets of Morecambe Bay, near Arnside Knot; and accordingly, early on the following morning, she repaired to the Rectory, in order to commence the journey thence with her friends. Before the party had got far upon the road to the station, they met the postman, and a letter was put into the hands of Evelyn. Having read it with deep thankfulness and emotion, she handed it on to Mr. Elthorne, who forthwith insisted on reading it aloud for the benefit of the rest. The letter was indeed an important one. It announced that, in consideration of the great services of her brother, Captain Lionel Manwaring, to his Queen and Country, Her Majesty was pleased to offer to his sister, Miss Evelyn Manwaring, the suite of apartments in Hampton Court Palace which had lately become vacant by the death of Lady Glengriskin, and that it was the Queen's gracious intention to put them in a state of complete repair before she came to occupy them.

WHE
HE reader (who is blessed with a good memory)

will remember that at the end of our first chapter Miss Sarah Strong had made an appointment to take the newly-arrived Miss Manwaring to call upon the Duchess of Ribblesdale, and punctually at the hour fixed, she arrived to fulfil her promise.

The entrance to her Grace's apartments was situated in the first quadrangle, and after ascending a somewhat narrow flight of stairs, and passing through a long corridor, the two ladies were ceremoniously introduced into the presence of the "Vice-reine" of Hampton Court. The Duchess rose as they entered. She was a little, upright woman, dressed in plain black silk. A single diamond of

great size glistened on her left hand, and, depending from a plain gold chain which hung around her neck, she wore a locket or pendant containing a huge emerald. She wore no cap, but about her hair, which was of a beautiful silver tint, was disposed, Spanish-fashion, some fine old black lace, beneath which shone magnificent dark eyes, which lighted up a face beaming with benevolence, and still retaining some portion of the singular beauty for which it had formerly been celebrated.

"This is indeed kind," said the Duchess, shaking Miss Strong's masculine-looking hand warmly," and it is kind of you, Miss Manwaring," she added, turning to Evelyn, " to waive ceremony and come to see an old woman whose doctor would not allow her to come and see you. Ah! I see," she continued, holding Evelyn's hand in hers, and gently kissing her fair forehead; "you have your mother's beautiful eyes and hair. Poor little Honoria! Your mother and I were friends when we were girls, you know, and I mean that you and I should be friends now. I am most happy to welcome a lady to the Palace; we have not quite always been so fortunate of late, have we, Miss Strong? and I venture to promise that it will not be my fault if Miss Manwaring's new home is not a happy one."