even the room to which Mrs Philipson was confined looked brighter and fresher under her sway.

Day after day dawned and passed away in the seclusion of that quiet chamber, far from unhappily to either of them. The monotony was not oppressive to Eve, for she was constantly engrossed in the present object of amusing, soothing, and tending her charge. She read to her, she talked to her, she listened to her; she forgot how she had feared her once, as the true beauty of her character grew clear to her comprehension. They were strange pages which seemed now turned over by her in the pure, chastened thoughts of her husband's mother. She loved to ask her opinions, to trace her motives, to unravel her reasonings, even to lead her on to speak of her past life. Clear and simple flowed those reminiscences, untinged by any incidents so dark as those which still hung gloomily over Eve herself. But however far away in the mist of years the conversation began, however varied the themes, generally all verged at length into the absorbing topic of her son-his boyhood, his manhood. She scarcely knew how often she spoke of him; most certainly she did not guess with

what contending emotions she was heard, nor how thoroughly she was teaching his wife to understand and appreciate him.

Sir Mark was not garrulous, nor had he reason to imagine himself an interesting subject to Eve. Of his history, therefore, she had gleaned but bare outlines. Now in its length and breadth it was stretched before her, and the most delicate traits of his character were touched out by the loving hand of his mother. Yet, with a haunting sense of being a traitor and a spy, did Eve venture within these secret limits. It was almost a profanity for her to intrude into the mysteries of his nature and his life.

Unseen, silently the acorn changes in the earth, gathering strange vitality from every shower and dewy night; the careless footstep passes over it unheedingly, trampling down a future marvel of strength and verdure. In that quiet interval of her existence, when only the alternation from sunshine to rain seemed to mark any difference in her tranquil days, a transition took place in Eve's character fully as great as that by which the acorn shoots into the sapling. It was no longer merely that the circumstances around her were dif

ferent, but the mainspring of action was completely different also. Could you have set her once more in the emergencies of the past, in nothing would her conduct have been the same. Not that she was perfect now, but she saw her imperfections by the true light, and that is one great step towards amendment.

Besides this gradual alteration (which was almost unobserved by herself), there was one more on the surface which was evident to her, and that was, how old interests had faded away. Subjects which had haunted Eve Cuthbert with unceasing pertinacity, had no place in Eve Philipson's cogitations; since she came to Wales, even her remorseful reminiscences had lost some of their power. Self was often forgotten in her musings on higher themes; and when she was alone she thought generally of her husband's past, not her ownof his character, his pursuits, his last look and words. She had not strength yet to think of the future in the peace of the present she rested, and thanked God. Sir Mark did not come to Wales; he had told her he would fetch her when he was at leisure, but he continued much occupied. She thought after

wards that it was singular she had not grown anxious and startled at his delay. But it was so sweet to feel the healing of her wounded spirit, that she cared not to break the pleasant trance.

CHAPTER XV.

These times strike monied worldlings with dismay:
Even rich men, brave by nature, taint the air

With words of apprehension and despair.

WORDSWORTH.

HERE were heavier clouds over her husband

THERE

than Eve imagined. It was not only the untenanted home, the unvalued love, which troubled him now; but for the first time since his boyhood, sudden, pressing danger of pecuniary reverses. The great commercial enterprise which had excited his mother's apprehension, and which had outgrown in importance and risk all his expectations, was checked in its career by a revolutionary crisis in the country which was the scene of its operations. Our home government had been but too glad to leave in the hands of private enterprise the onerous task of opening a field of commerce from which it hoped England might yet derive incalculable advantages. It was a matter of

.