to be hoped that wayward, plaguing coquettes are wholly unknown.

As Mr. Cameron was by this time one of the richest merchants in St. Petersburg, there were several young ladies who would willingly have undertaken the task of bringing up little Helen, with the rank and title of Mrs. Cameron. But, whether Mr. Cameron thought he had been plagued enough for one lifetime, or whether he could find no second mate to suit his taste, he disappointed them all. Some said, that, in spite of the past, he was still true to Agnes Randal; but that young lady was then in England, keeping house for a brother. After much thought, Mr. Cameron begged Miss Emily Meldrum, another daughter of defunct Meldrum and Meldrum, and first cousin to Helen's mother, to take charge of Helen's education. The choice was, in many ways, a happy one: Miss Meldrum, on the whole, discharged her duties ably as well as conscientiously, and was like a mother to Helen. But there was one thing lacking, which spoilt everything else: she never could acquire any authority over the girl. In her defence, it must be said that very few women could have mastered Helen. The natural result was, that

she was a spoilt child. She grew up to be as wilful, wayward, and coquettish, as her mother. There were some noble traits in her character. She was capable of great things: it was in her to become a great woman. But all her good qualities were overborne by her faults.

As she grew up to be the very image of her mother, it was curious to watch the way in which her father regarded her. She was so utterly unlike him, that she might have belonged to another species; and one can easily fancy that he looked on her as a contemplative hen might look on a duckling which she had unwittingly hatched. He could scarcely believe himself to be the father and author of so much beauty. At times, he would gaze at her earnestly, and, seeing not a trace of himself in the beautiful Helen, and but too many traces of "the plague of his life," would turn away with a sigh, and try to forecast her future. Ah, if he could have guessed what awaited him! That he loved her dearly, there could be no doubt. Yes, dearly: at times, doting over her with almost womanly tenderness; at others, clinging to her with passionate devotion as (in spite of his wealth) his only treasure in life. In company, what struck one

most was, that he was proud of her. But his was not that "perfect love" which "casteth out fear." You could not have seen them long together without remarking that he stood in awe of her. He seldom could withstand her outbursts of sauciness and self-will. She seemed likely to become, like her mother before her the plague of his life. Certainly she gave him more and more trouble every year. Often and often he made up his mind to exert his authority; but hitherto he had been thoroughly baffled. With all her wilfulness and waywardness, she was so lovable, and so coaxing in her ways, that, when she found she could not resist his authority, she overcame him by her caresses.

He often questioned himself: Had he done wisely in not marrying again? Would not a mother's (even a step-mother's) influence have been the best discipline for such a girl? If Miss Agnes Randal had only been at St. Petersburg! She, with her rare mingling of sweetness and strength, would have been the very woman to keep Helen in check. Nay, as it turned out, would it not have been wise even to gladden the heart of one of the Misses Somebody, Nobody, and Anybody (all of whom

were so fond of "the darling"), by making a present of a new mamma to Helen? Too late now! She would kick against the pricks as few ladies could kick: no four-legged brute could beat her in that accomplishment. The only hope of salvation for her now lay in the chance of her loving a strong-minded man who could master her: for the latent capacity of love was strong within her; and, where she loved at all, she would have loved with her whole heart and soul. No such man had approached her yet. Crowds of worshippers were indeed at her feet: for she was the acknowledged belle of the English community at St. Petersburg; and the young attachés from the English Embassy, as well as the young English merchants of her own rank, offered incense at her shrine. She liked to be admired; was proud of the sensation she made. She had flirted, as beautiful girls who are courted by all will do, with a good many; but, unluckily, she had not lost her heart to any one, and, as far as appearances went, was not likely to do so soon.

Perhaps she liked Frederick Randal as well as any. But, if you look at them now, as they drive along to the Feast of the Jordan, you will think that she did not give him much

encouragement. Fred was so wrapped up in the thought of his own happiness, that, for the time, he could do without it. Enough for him to be by her side. Many eyes were cast on her; and many hearts envied him. The greatest beauties of St. Petersburg were at the Feast; but he felt that the loveliest of them all was by his side. He was proud of his companion; proud of driving alone with her. As for her, she soon gave him a sample of her sauciness. He had just asked her:

"Are you not glad, Helen, that we have no prim old maid to mar our pleasure ?"

A box on the ear would have pleased Randal better than the answer he received:

"None but a silly young coxcomb would think of calling Miss Meldrum a prim old maid." "That is all the thanks I get !"

"If you look for thanks, I thank you. There now: you have got your thanks; and much good may they do you. Thanks! I thought you brought me here to please yourself. I really thought it gave you pleasure!"

She spoke in the most sarcastic tone and manner. Fred was on the horns of a dilemma. No escaping Helen's merciless logic. Could he advance his suit by saying that it gave