Dorothy felt that the interview had lasted only too long; she was stung by the reserve and coldness of Lance's manner, and dropped his arm in offended silence. He continued, however, to walk by her side until they reached the wicket, which he opened for her to pass, closed it behind her, and then, with folded arms and clouded brow, he returned to pace the lime alley alone.

Dorothy went on to the Sunday-school, but she found the task of keeping order in her class unusually irksome; and the elder girls murmured that Miss Dorothy need not have spoken so sharply about inattention, for she herself did not seem to know what the lesson was about.

As

CHAPTER IX.

Young though we be, the Past may sting,
The Present feed its sorrow:

But hope shines bright on everything

That waits us with the morrow.

Like sun lit glades,

The dimmest shades

Some rosy beam can borrow.

E. B. LYTTON.

S they retraced their steps through the park after morning service, Sir Stephen asked Dorothy if she and Mr. Clifford had had an agreeable walk.

It is

'Not exactly agreeable,' said Dorothy. never pleasant to be told of one's faults, and Lance took some pains to convince me that I was hasty and inaccurate in my speech about Mr. Vaughan this morning. You will have seen that my knowledge of the affair was very imperfect, since I had not a suspicion that you were the cousin in question.'

'Of course not,' said Sir Stephen, but now that you have made the discovery, perhaps you may prefer coming to me as the more direct source of information. Even if he were not Mr. Clifford's friend, I should have no wish to speak harshly of

poor Arthur Vaughan, who, however headstrong and misguided, does, I really believe, mean well.'

'I am sorry,' said Blanche, who had of course heard and adopted Sir Stephen's view of the matter, 'I am sorry that we did not know the story sooner, for it will not be pleasant to have him here.'

'It is unfortunate,' said Sir Stephen; ‘but I should at all events have shrunk from interfering. We must hope that he has learnt by experience, and I have no wish to injure the young man's prospects.'

Dorothy, who thought his lofty magnanimity as much misplaced as his pity, prudently remained silent. Not so Blanche: she followed her sister upstairs, when she went to take off her bonnet, in order to remark, 'How generous it was of Stephen to speak in that way of Mr. Vaughan, after the way that he behaved.'

'In what way?' Dorothy asked.

'You said you knew the story, Dora, and you acknowledged that you had been unjust to Stephen. You must own that Mr. Vaughan made but a poor return for Stephen's unvarying kindness, stirring up strife in the parish, and differing from him on every point, and then rejecting the promise of the living of Layland, almost as if Stephen had been guilty of simony.'

'Well, Blanche,' said Dorothy, if that was his conscientious belief, one cannot wonder that he should shrink from partaking of such a sin, and be anxious to warn his cousin of his danger.'

'Stephen says,' continued Blanche, 'that this was only gien as an excuse, because Mr. Vaughan was still bent on succeeding to Hetherington. And at

any rate, I don't see why he should set up to be better than his neighbours :-we all know that presentations are bought and sold every day.'

6

'Ask Stephen,' replied Dorothy, whether that plea justified the sale of indulgences.'

'You know, Dora, that I never could argue with you,—but I am quite sure that it cannot be wrong, since Stephen did it.'

Blanche spoke in the tone of assured confidence, and her sister's smile was rather satirical, as she replied: That argument is conclusive.'

I

'It is to me, Dora,' said Blanche, colouring; 'but see, and I am afraid Stephen sees also, that you take up wrongly everything that he says.'

Stephen ought to regard it as a proof of our intimacy,' returned Dorothy; 'for you know I was always a disputatious animal, and I cannot suddenly acquire a habit of complaisance.'

'Yes; but you contradict Stephen as if you were really in earnest, and it is impossible that he should not see how different your manner is to him and to Lance.'

'I have known Lance longer,' said Dorothy, in a rather unsteady voice; but that obstacle is to be removed, and then I shall have nothing to do but to improve my acquaintance with Stephen. We have at all events one point in common, for I really believe he likes you almost as well as I do.'

Lance did not come home between services, and as it was raining when they walked back through the park in the afternoon, Dorothy had no opportunity, even if she felt any inclination, to speak to him apart. They dined early, and sat together

in the drawing-room all the evening, which seemed long and cheerless, as the eve of a separation must necessarily be, when we think only of the parting of which our hearts are too full to speak. The presence of Sir Stephen was felt to be in some degree a restraint, though he took care to evince his sympathy by being graver and more silent than any.

The Colonel broke three several pauses to send all sorts of kind greetings to his old friend Clifford, and to wonder whether he was much altered, a curiosity which it did not require much penetration to satisfy, since they had not met for the last thirty years. He also took infinite pains to ascertain the number of Lance's packages, and insisted that Dorothy should write directions for them all in her clear legible hand, though Lance assured him that his things always took care of themselves, without such unnecessary trouble. However, Dorothy was glad to find some occupation for her fingers: she rose and went to the writing-table, and Lance followed her there, and stood beside her while she traced the characters with an unsteadiness of hand which scarcely justified her father's description of her writing.

'Thank you for this last service,' he said, as she silently put the labels into his hand; 'you have done your best to speed me on my way.' Dorothy looked up, unable to speak, and Lance went on hurriedly, 'Dora, I felt that we ought not to part without some token of remembrance; not of this time, which it will be only painful to remember, but of the happy childhood we have passed together. And so I have got these crosses for you and Blanche;