Five days later, we find Otto again in one of the downstairs rooms at Beckley-the parlour where he had so often sat in pleasant conversation with the man to whom he had that morning paid the last tribute of respect as a friend and chief mourner.

During all these five days he had not once seen Celine.

On that evening, when they were standing together by the death-bed, he had witnessed a burst of grief so wild and passionate that he could not think of it afterwards without a shudder. It was as if, with her father's last breath, Celine had lost all self-command.

Otto still saw her form bent over the couch; he still heard her bitter self-reproaches, the wild words of imprecation with which she accused herself of having been a bad daughter to the best of fathers, who had loved her so tenderly; he still saw her as she covered with warm kisses the cold face of the dead; and when her feelings at last found relief in an overwhelming flood of tears, Otto had himself succeeded, with gentle authority, in taking her away from the chamber of death.

But since that evening he had not seen her again, although he had passed day after day at Beckley, engaged in carrying out the instructions which had been left to him by the deceased in a sealed packet, and which had kept him entirely occupied every day with pressing business.

Every day he had made efforts to see Celine, but every day she had excused herself, and, however much this might inconvenience him, he was too busy to think much about it; but now that the funeral was over, his feelings began to assert themselves, and he had just sunk into a melancholy mood, full of bitter thoughts, when the servant brought the message which he had been

waiting for so many days-that Celine was expecting him.

Whatever feelings had been uppermost in Otto's mind, it is certain that his warm heart overflowed with love and compassion when he found her so altered, so pale and fallen away, sitting in an arm-chair drawn near the fire. Pale and fallen away, and yet so beautiful in a white morning gown, carelessly put on, with all the richness of her black luxuriant hair, which, hanging loose, concealed her form as in a dark veil. When Otto entered, she spoke a few gentle Malay words to the Javanese maid who stood beside her, and who retired with her work into the farthest window-seat, while Celine put out her hand to Otto with a mournful smile.

At the first moment they were both too much affected to speak; hot tears flowed down Celine's pale cheeks, but, forcing herself evidently with a great effort to be calm, she said gently, 'Don't be displeased with me, Otto, that I have not received you all these days. I could not-indeed I could not.' There was an overwhelming sorrow in the tone in which she said this. She seemed for a moment to find it necessary to collect her strength before she could go on. I owe you much gratitude, but I have not been in a state to care for anything.'

'Celine,' said Otto, interrupting her, and taking a chair near her, 'do not speak of gratitude; that word distresses me. The little I have been able to do for you, and for him whom I mourn with you, is not worth mentioning; but I have longed to speak to you, because I wish there should be a perfect understanding as to the elation in which we stand to each other.'

A deep blush coloured Celine's cheek; she turned

away from Otto, and by this sudden movement her hair, falling over her face, concealed her from his gaze. He saw with a painful sensation this, perhaps, involuntary motion, but it strengthened him in what he had determined to say.

'I believe I understand what made you fear to meet me, Celine, but you are mistaken if you think that I will take advantage of what your goodness of heart made you say in order to lighten the anxious cares of a dying man. I honour you for it. I once had the boldness to say I loved you, and I will only add that I love you now more than ever, if that be possible; but my love is not so selfish that I place my happiness above yours. And I must, therefore, tell you that I am fully prepared to regard as unsaid the words that you then spoke, if you wish it so. Say so, Celine, and for your sake I will so far conquer myself, that you shall never perceive that I have anything more than the affection of a brother for you-and as a brother I will stand by you and help you in all your difficulties.'

She did not permit him to speak further; she had already turned her face again towards him, and she now raised her dark eyelashes, which drooped over her eyes, and, speaking in a voice of deep emotion, she said:

'You are good and generous in all things, Otto, but you are mistaken if you think that I have not let you come to me sooner, because I repent of the promise I made you. No, Otto, that is not so. Now he is dead, I have no one in the world who loves me but yourself. When I refused your first offer, I did so principally for your sake, because I know myself better than you know me, Otto.' There came over Celine a nervous excitement when she thus spoke; her cheeks coloured up, her eyes, which were still moist, began to sparkle. She was

indescribably beautiful as she sat by Otto, and she made an ineffaceable impression on him for his whole life.

In after years, in altered circumstances, she stood always before his mind just as he had seen her at this moment, as his best and happiest recollection of her. 'When we were last in the wood together, Otto,' Celine continued, when our conversation on religion showed us how much we differed in opinion, I said to you that I believed in two powers, God and the Devil. I believe this, Otto, because I find from day to day the conflict of two powers in my inmost heart, but I also believe that with me the Devil is the strongest power, and that, with all my good intentions, I am his victim; therefore, I do not believe that I can make any man happy, unless I so loved him as I feel that I am capable of loving.'

And that love, Celine, cannot I hope to win?' For a moment only she looked down, then, raising her eyes towards him with a brave, honest expression, she said in a decided tone: No, Otto; the man that I could love, for whom my whole nature could deny itself, and for whose sake I could become what a wife should be, gentle, obedient, and submissive, that man must be a different man from you; but I will say also that such a man I have never yet met, and if I do not love you, Otto, as I could love, at least there is no one whom I love more than you. Is that enough for you? will you take me with all my faults and shortcomings? will you help me to overcome the devil within me ?-then I will thankfully accept your hand as that of my only friend in my solitary and forsaken condition.'

She held out her hand to him, and Otto did not hesitate a moment in taking it. All the passion which had so long slumbered within him, which his reason had often and often endeavoured to suppress, woke up with redoubled

force at the prospect of the fulfilment of that ardent wish which his heart had so long cherished. Kneeling by Celine's chair, and covering her hand with kisses, he spoke in half-broken, unconnected words of his happiness and gratitude and of his love, which was content with the assurance that she was not disinclined towards him, and at least loved no one better than himself.

THE

CHAPTER XIV.

THE HAPPIEST DAY IN OTTO'S LIFE.

HREE months had elapsed since the last-mentioned events.

Dilburg had not only devoured but digested the news, the wonderful news, that Otto Welters, whom every one supposed to have been engaged to Mary van Stein, was going to be married to the daughter of the late mysterious resident at Beckley. That this news had given rise to much gossip among the Dilburgers it is superfluous to state. If I were to write down all that people thought and said on this subject, I should lengthen my simple narrative so as to weary my reader.

I will only remark, en passant, that some of the Dilburgers asserted that Otto had treated Mary very ill, whilst others, on the contrary, knew for certain that Mary had thrown over Otto. Others again were perfectly certain that it was only out of pique that Otto was marrying Celine; and some said, with a smile, that Master Otto was a sly fox, and that he knew very well what he was about in securing the rich heiress, an orphan child, that coveted prize of the marrying men of