ISAPPOINTMENT, thy name is pleasure-hunting! Amongst all Lady Jane's company, how few were fortunate enough to find the gratification they came so far to seek. Hester, who left home in the highest spirits, with a vague hope that Brail might be invited, felt a greater depression than she chose to acknowledge when she discovered her mistake, but it vexed her still more to reflect that under such unfavourable conditions it would have been far better not to have met at all. Lady Jane, in spite of endless trouble, countless notes, complicated arrangements of all kinds, and a new dress from Paris composed for the occasion, saw her own especial admirer, the captive of her bow and spear, fly off at a tangent on the first opportunity. Lady Pandora, who had taken advantage of her friend's permission to bring, with half-a-dozen other followers, Lord Fitzowen for her particular benefit, chafed to find that volatile nobleman out-ofsorts, out-of-spirits, and, to use her own words, "just as dull as anybody else!"

Fitz himself, having come on the off-chance of being amused, tried tight-waist only to find her wanting, flitted like a butterfly from flower to flower without settling on any one specimen, and, finally, when the others began to explore the maze in pairs, sauntered off to smoke by himself, revolving in his own mind whether or not the whole system of modern society was a mistake, and women rather a bore after all!

It may be doubted if Nelly, sitting, unconscious, with her back to VOL. CCXLIII. NO. 1772.

K

a grand old tree, scarce a bow-shot off, did not really enjoy the hush and quiet of a summer's evening in these beautiful gardens more than any of them. The trim lawns, the luxuriant roses, drooping but not overblown, the scented pinks, never so sweet as at sun-down, the redbrick wall, the dark clear-cut cypresses, and, beyond all, the wealth of grass, foliage, and forest trees, shutting her, as it were, into a June paradise, seemed so delightful a contrast to Corner Street and the Strand! As her eyes wandered from the pure blue sky above, laced with its streaks of white, to the daisies, drowsily closing their cups at her feet, she felt such thoughts rising from her heart to brain as lips. can never clothe in language-indefinite longings, vague aspirations, a thousand gentle wandering fancies, too high for words, "too deep for tears," and realised, perhaps, with wistful consciousness, the paradox of the French sentimentalist, that solitude, to be enjoyed, must be shared with another to whom one can say, "How sweet is solitude!"

Such a companion was nearer than she supposed, and, dreamily as she sat there, a crisis was impending on which her whole future life should turn.

There came a whiff of tobacco, a light step on the turf, an exclamation of surprise, and the next moment Lord Fitzowen stood before her, his cheek flushed, his eyes sparkling, his face radiant with delight.

Nelly, on the contrary, turned paler than ever, rose, as if to walk away, and sank helplessly back to her seat, because limbs and courage failed her in a breath.

He dashed the cigar from his lips-a contraband article, forbidden to be consumed in these royal precincts-while, with a homage the more flattering that it seemed wholly involuntary, he took his hat off as if in the presence of his

queen.

Neither spoke, and one hated herself for the blush that she felt would not be kept down.

"Mrs. Roy!" he stammered, too much in earnest to be conscious of the ludicrous. "You here, of all people in the world? I thought I was never to set eyes on you again!"

"I came with my aunt," answered Nelly, trying to regain composure. "I expect her back every minute. I am only waiting here till she returns."

To his ear her voice sounded cold, formal, constrained; to her own it seemed as if somebody else was speaking, mechanically, and a long way off.

His lordship, glancing from right to left, and observing no tokens of " my aunt," took courage to proceed.

"I have never called for weeks, Mrs. Roy. I have kept away, though though I was anxious about you, and most unhappy. I would not even send any more flowers, because you seemed not to like it."

"You were right; I did not like it."

"But why? Surely people may be friends. When you were at the Grange I might ride over three times a week, and you always looked glad to see me then."

"That was different."

"Of course it was—very different. I suppose you tolerated me in compliance with the laws of hospitality. Now that you can do as you please, you shut the door in my face."

"Oh! no-no !" "It looks like it. I am sure you are unhappy. That is what makes me miserable. I hear you spoken of unkindly, and I have not even the right to stand up for you. I feel that I could be a help, a comfort—to a certain extent a defence—and you refuse to let me see your face, as if I were your bitterest enemy-I, who would give my life willingly to spare you an hour of pain! It seems so hard, so cruel, so unjust!"

The tears were in her eyes. "Don't say that, Lord Fitzowen; don't say that-you make me wretched too!"

"Then I won't! No word or deed of mine shall add an ounce to your burden. I only wish to share it. We could carry it so much easier between us. Mrs. Roy (how much longer must I call you by that hateful name?) we have met here by the merest accident. It's a thousand to one against such a chance occurring again-will you not listen for five minutes? I am like a man pleading for his life!"

She could not but pity him. He seemed so tender, so considerate, so respectful, and withal so very sad. "It will break his heart, poor fellow!" thought Nelly, "but I suppose I shall have to tell him the truth. How I wish auntie would come, or Mr. Brail !"

The latter was nearer than she thought, and somebody else too, who had arrived at this opportune moment to hear a declaration of love made to his own wife.

John Roy's assistance had been of the utmost service in helping our friend the lieutenant to pacify his drunken messmate. Ablebodied men and sober, partly by moral persuasion, partly by exercise of physical strength, these two got their charge housed in the inn, where they dosed him with soda-water, and induced him to lie down on a

black horsehair sofa, the more readily that above it hung a picture of an old-fashioned three-decker under press of sail. When fairly asleep, Brail locked the door and put the key in his pocket, observing calmly that the window was too high for their prisoner to jump out, while if he should attempt it, and break his neck, there would be no great loss! Returning from their joint exploit, a happy thought struck the lieutenant that this was the moment to bring about an interview between his friend and the wife he had so misjudged; that by his intervention a reconciliation might take place here, this very afternoon, for the clearing up of all misunderstanding and to the complete satisfaction of both. It speaks well for the sailor's unselfishness, and manly sense of right, that he should have postponed to such an immediate duty his intention of seeking Miss Bruce, to hold her hand in his, if only for half a minute, and entreat her not to judge him too harshly by what she had seen.

"Let us take a turn up and down, to cool ourselves," suggested this diplomatist, wiping his brown face; "that fellow is as strong as a bull! A round or two more would have given me a wet shirt."

"With all my heart," assented Roy, who rather enjoyed the tussle ; "I suppose they wouldn't stand one's smoking a cigar here?"

"I suppose not," answered the other. "You see, to a certain extent, it's her Majesty's quarter-deck. You don't want to go cruising after your party for ten minutes or so?"

"Not I They're all over the place by now, and I don't much care if I never see them again. I should have kept away if I had known of one or two that are here."

"One or two" meant really "one," viz. Lord Fitzowen, brought by Lady Pandora at the last moment, much against his will.

"There seems to be a whole fleet of muslin," continued the sailor, "and some very pretty girls amongst them. I think I saw Miss Bruce."

"Of course you did! The pick of the basket, too, in my opinion: except one, perhaps-a girl with a tight waist."

"A tight waist!" repeated the other musingly, for he was thinking of his coup de théâtre, and wondering how far Mrs. John could have wandered by herself. "Ah! wants taking out of stays, very likely. Lively enough too, I dare say, and as trim as a Sunday in port. What are they all up to now?"

"What are women always up to? Fool-catching-fool-matching -and fool-hatching-that seems about the sum-total of a lady's life. They're at the catching by this time, romping and laughing in the maze."