of blood to his own temples; and the ecstacy of passion which blinded him — and how he had rushed forward, and with one stroke of his foot levelled the coward to the earth and how Everard had struck his forehead against a stone, and had bled profusely and the agony of distress and remorse into which his little sister had been thrown and the generosity with which she had forgotten all her own causes of comand plaint in her sense of her brother's sufferings yet, how, in the paroxysms of her distress, her heart had remained just, and grateful, and loving to himself; and how sulky Everard had been and the tears

she had shed before he would be reconciled and how, when the reconciliation at last had been effected, her tears had ceased; but she kept sobbing and sobbing, as he sat upon the grass by her side, and her little head was leaned against his breast.

"You were always my champion," she said — and again she looked into his eyes with the same searching, anxious, wistful expression which we have noticed when first they met.

His eyes were cast down at this moment, and she kept peeping under his eyelids, for he did not observe her; and then she seemed occupied in perusing his features, and scanning his figure, as if she were trying to understand him exactly. The expression of the face, softened as it was, had in it even now when she considered it with this attention, something stern and severe. And the strong-built figure; the large limbs, knit together as with sinews of iron, something in it almost approaching to the terrible.

The longer she looked, and the stronger this impression became, she began to wonder she could

have spoken with so much childish ease and composure to this severe-looking man. But he soon raised his eyes again and then there was something in them, a softness again pervading every feature when he looked at her, which reassured her.

CHAPTER VI.

Oh hush! may blest forgetfulness
Our former being steep,

And with its sorrows may its love
In dead oblivion sleep.

MRS. ACTON TINDAL.

THE Conversation between the two continued in the strain I have related, for some time longer, and every fresh quarter of an hour seemed by awakening fresh recollections of their old friendship, to draw them nearer to each other; but it was time to separate and dress for dinner. Lady Wharncliffe and Mrs. Langford reappeared, attended by Eleanor's maid.

"Well, my love, how do you feel?

much tired?"

Not so very

"Thank you, Mamma, very much less tired than I was yesterday, don't ring," as her mother

approached to put her hand upon the bell,

"with

a little help I feel quite equal to walking up-stairs."

"I don't know for that you are not a very prudent person. Always trying, Mrs. Langford, to do more than her strength is equal to. There is no end

to our quarrels upon that subject. Nay, my darling, if you positively must and will," as Eleanor, assisted by her maid, endeavoured slowly and with considerable difficulty to rise from the sofa, "Mr. Langford Randal perhaps you will be so good He had already risen, and stood there, waiting

.."

only for permission to resume some of his old offices of assistance and protection.

"If Miss Wharncliffe will only give me leave; nay, Eleanor, it is but as it used to be let me support you." And he put his arm under the pillow, and with one slight effort raised her at once; and still keeping his arm round her, supported her as there she stood, tottering and uncertain upon the floor.

She had looked up at him as he did so, her soft eyes so sweetly, lovingly, and thankfully raised to his, with that gentle confiding smile in them, so inexpressibly dear to his heart! A sweetness to which he had for years been a stranger seemed to pervade his feelings.

and he stooped his tall head

"I wish

let

"I wish," he said tenderly and anxiously down towards her you would let it be as it used to be, Eleanor, me lift you up and carry you to your room. You really do not seem fit to walk, and I could lift you as I should a feather. Would it not be better, Lady Wharncliffe?" turning and appealing to her.

"Really I see no objection to it; only she is such a positive little thing. . . . She is as light as a leaf; it really would be much better."

And thus encouraged, Randal Langford, without waiting for further permission, took the trembling girl up in his arms, and saying, "Mother, which way?" followed by the ladies, carried her, as he might have done a little baby, very softly and without the slightest appearance of effort up-stairs. The maid opened the door of the room appointed, a not very large one, at the end of the house. It had a bow-window and commanded a most lovely view to the eastward. The sun,

it is trué, no longer shone full upon it; but his rays gilded the woods and cliffs opposite, and sparkled upon the river which ran below. The scene was beautiful beyond description.

The cliffs upon this side of the house were less precipitous than upon the other, and fell, broken into all sorts of fantastic shapes, and clothed, with every variety of that beautiful vegetation proper to the sandstone-rock, towards the stream. The rich yellows, reds, and browns of the stone from time to time breaking out, and appearing between the various greens, now, indeed, now longer properly green, for the dying tints of the year were upon the shrubs and toughest plants which grew there in such profusion. A path upon this side of the house led from the gravel-walk and terrace down to the river's brink; over which the bow-window, projecting considerably, seemed to hang.

At this moment nothing could be more pleasing than the scene presented through the window; nor look more comfortable and cheerful than did the little apartment itself. Indeed it might be said to be the only really cheerful apartment in the house. She had her arm round his neck, as he held her in his arms, and before he laid her down upon the sofa, which stood by a brisk blazing fire, he just carried her to the window, and leaning her forward so that she might look out, said,

"Look Eleanor, do you remember this view? The sun is very bright this November day Is it not beautiful?"

"Lovely!" she answered. is! The shrubs seem to have

-

"How soft and calm it grown very much, and