coat. Dreamily and immoveably he kept gazing through his spectacles at the dusty carriage-lining opposite him. When she so touched him, however, he would give a nervous start, glance round with painful slowness, and a timid suspicion in his look; then droop his weary head again with the old musing, searching expression.

"We hope the waters may restore my husband's health," was the sole information she graciously volunteered to the now resigned Huntley. "The change will also amuse my daughter during her holidaysis it not so, Ma-belle ?"

No answer. Mabel was intently staring at some of Wat's papers, which he had just offered her a smile on her lips, and her mind evidently far away in some happy reverie.

Mrs. Langton's face changed, and her voice had an unpleasant, cold incisiveness; though she smiled most charmingly, after a peculiar surface fashion.

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hear

Dreaming, as usual. Do you not, then, me, chère petite ?"

The chère petite gave a quick start, mechanically answering, "Yes, Madame;" and then, with her face concealed by the paper from all eyes save Huntley's-of whose observation she was most likely unaware,gave a look of such fiendish detestation at the head of her unconscious step-mother, that it was all Walter could do to keep from laughing outright.

"What a queer little vixen?" he again said to himself; watching her soft, mobile features resume once more the childishly sulky expression he had first noted. Then

at last the train rushed, screaming, puffing, and slackening, into the station at Harrogate.

Dusty and tired, they all got out to seize what of their luggage was visible in the general mêlée. Our first acquaintance, Captain Huntley, had soon secured his own, and made his way to their hotel in time to

come down for dinner irreproachably dressed in the black and white garb of gentlemen(and waiters)—in our nineteenth century. His fellow-travellers in the train were not at the table-d'hôte, however, as one or two glances around showed; but he felt none the less cheerful for being surrounded by the total strangers who lined two long tables stretching the whole length of the

room.

17

CHAPTER II.

"My hair was golden yellow, and it floated to my shoe; My eyes were like two harebells, bathed in little drops of dew."

A

R. BUCHANAN.

BOUT three hours later, when a warm

darkness was settling down upon the town, the green Stray, and the trees beyond-when sounds of music floated out from lighted rooms through open windows, -a young girl was seated at her dressingtable, in a small bed-room of the hotel, whilst her maid was brushing out a thick mass of beautiful red-gold hair, which seemed to assert itself all the more in loosely-waving rebellion.

VOL. I.

с

"Be quick, Agnes-we are late; and she may come in any moment. Oh! don't get me into fresh disgrace, for I have a punishment task already that will take me two hours to learn to-morrow."

Agnes Hitchcocks, the maid, whom Mabel Langton addressed, only gave a great start, and stared vacantly at the door, with uplifted brush; then, satisfying herself that there was no immediate danger, placidly resumed her occupation.

"La! no, Miss Mabel; she's too busy with your papa. He looks very bad tonight; poor dear gentleman!

"She would not let me say good night to him-poor papa!" And Mabel, though she began in a tone of suppressed vindictiveness, ended with a sigh.

Hitchcocks, although a remarkably cheerful, good-looking, young woman, of an age, perhaps, slightly over thirty, echoed the. sigh; and gave vent, in a similarly cautious murmur, to some bitter, but almost inaudi