and offer their congratulations,' observed Mrs. Thorne doubtfully.

A card left at the front door,' suggested Lucy demurely, 'might, possibly, not disturb the delicate balance of her ladyship's nerves.'

This sarcasm would have been acceptable enough, had not the circumstances been too serious for persiflage.

'After all, one must make allowance for her being a Frenchwoman,' observed the lady of the house, after a long pause.

But is she a French woman, mamma,' inquired Lucy.

'It is supposed so. At all events, Sir Richard married her in France, almost immediately after he left Mirbridge, and neither of them have ever visited England since.'

'And why did Sir Richard-or Mr. Trevor as he then wasleave Mirbridge, mamma ?'

Mrs. Thorne was sometimes afflicted with a slight cough; it was wont to trouble her when any of her belongings discussed family affairs before the servant, or when the Rector ventured to rally the Duchess; also on the rare occasions when she thought it necessary to administer a jobation to the gardener; it was of two kinds, the cough monitory and the premonitory, but both were the result of delicacy of feeling, and not of anything amiss with the bronchial tubes.

'I believe it was in consequence of some village scandal,' she answered drily; 'as it happened five-and-twenty years ago, however, it is scarcely worth while to talk about it- Have you brought down the keys of the store cupboard, my dear ?' 'Yes, mamma.' It was a question that hardly needed a reply; a soldier would as soon have thought of going into battle without his sword as Lucy of coming down in the morning without the means of distributing what was wanted below stairs for the day. She was her father's lieutenant, but her mother's purser. It was not difficult for her, therefore, to understand that the inquiry was only a gentle hint that her presence could be dispensed with. She rose at once, and left the room with a smile; not that she wished to go, but to give assurance of her willing service.

Hardly had the door closed behind her, when 'Why did Mr. Trevor leave Mirbridge?' inquired Clara.

Curiously enough, the importunity would scarcely have struck. even a stranger as in bad taste, or out of place. Though there was only a year or two between the ages of the sisters, there was a whole generation in their respective characters; and this was evident in their appearance. In Lucy's hearing, any decent

woman would have hesitated to allude to a circumstance not entirely comme il faut; she would have had no more hesitation in doing so before Clara, than if that young lady had been of

Parian marble. Mrs. Thorne answered her eldest daughter's question instantly:

'Mr. Trevor was under a cloud on account of that miserable story of Letty Beeton.'

I conclude so. But what was the story?'

'Well, she was the mistress of the village school-a young woman of some intelligence and of rare beauty, to whom the late Lady Trevor showed a great but mistaken kindness. Nothing would satisfy her but that the young girl should live under her own roof. It was a most unfortunate infatuation.' 'Sir Richard wanted to marry her, did he not?'

'I don't know that; indeed, one knows nothing, of course, except from hearsay. Sir Marmaduke, his father, though he was a Dissenter, and built that dreadful chapel, was one of the proudest men in England; he would never have consented to a nésalliance.'

'But it was something worse than an intrigue, was it not?' 'I don't know what can be worse, my dear,' observed Mrs. Thorne gravely, almost reprovingly. However, it had the

most terrible results.'

'Yes, indeed-twenty-five years of exile,' mused Clara.

'That was the young man's punishment. I am thinking, however, of poor Letty. It cost her her life: she and her child died within a few hours of one another.'

'Here in Mirbridge?'

'No, in London.'

'But why should he not have returned to the Court all these years?'

'Remorse, let us hope, had something to do with it.'

'Nevertheless, he seems to have married somebody else very soon afterwards,' observed Clara, shaking a crumb from her dress.

That is true; but in any case it is easy to imagine that he would wish the memory of such an event to have worn out before he came back again. It is supposed Sir Marmaduke's death was hastened by it. His mother, too, though she died only last year, is said never to have smiled after the matter came to light.'

'A widespread catastrophe, indeed,' observed Clara. 'The dowager, however, went to live with her son and his present wife, did she not?'

For the last few years, yes. It is supposed that her dying wish was the cause of their now coming home.'

I suppose no one knows anything of the present family?' 'No one in Mirbridge. Your father has heard from Sir Richard from time to time. Considering that he is an absentee, he is not illiberal. I wish, indeed, he was rather less so in one

sense. I hope I am not uncharitable, but that keeping up of the chapel-considering what sort of doctrine is preached in it -is perfectly monstrous, and a great misfortune for everybody.' 'Old Sir Marmaduke was a Calvinist, I suppose?'

'Yes, but Sir Richard is not. "If anything," he writes, "I am an English Churchman." One does not like that "if anything," does one?'

'It is certainly significant. As to the keeping up of the chapel, however, since he is not in sympathy with the sect, there is something filial as well as liberal in it, unless, indeed, he is so well off that money is of no consequence to him.'

'This is not at all the case,' observed Mrs. Thorne. 'Indeed; yet he seems to own all Mirbridge.'

'Sir Richard's rent-roll, however, is not nearly so large as that of his father was, land is so depreciated; and he has nothing, I am told, but the land. That all descends, by entail, upon his elder son; so that there will be literally nothing left for the younger but what his father can save for him during his lifetime.' 'Had the present Lady Trevor, then, no money?'

'None that I ever heard of. Nobody, however, knows who she was, or anything about her, except that she is said to be very beautiful."

She must have had something to recommend her,' remarked Clara thoughtfully, or Sir Marmaduke, who, you say, was such a proud man, would no more have consented to the match than to that other.'

'A very just observation, my dear; but it is possible that "that other," as you call it, had something to do with it. Sir Marmaduke, who was a very religious man in his way, may have altered his views-or, at all events, relaxed them-in order to see his son married and settled. He did not, indeed, attend the wedding, for which, on the other hand, the state of his health was a sufficient cause-but he is understood to have advanced no objection to it, and to have made the young couple a handsome allowance.'

The united ages of the "young couple," remarked Clara drily, 'must be now ninety, at least.'

Yes, that, or nearly that, if Lady Trevor is of the same age as her husband. Their son, Hugh, must be twenty-three at least, and Charles just a year younger. It is exactly a generation ago since the present Sir Richard left Mirbridge. He will have a difficult part to play, I fear. Even if everything to his disadvantage were quite forgotten, it is not easy to pick up the threads of social life after so long an interval. Whether he succeeds or not will greatly depend upon what sort of wife he brings with him.'

'Then he will probably not succeed.'

Nay; why should you say that Clara ?' remonstrated her mother.

The Duchess shrugged her ample shoulders.

'Is it likely, mamma, that a Frenchwoman with nerves will conciliate the county?'

'In my opinion, her being French will be a distinct advantage to her mistakes will be the more readily forgiven her; and people will not be able to say that she is "connected with trade," which, if she were an Englishwoman, they would be sure to do. She may be a Montmorenci for all they know, or will probably be able to discover. As for ourselves, it is our bounden duty to help her all we can, if only for the sake of the parish.'

'I suppose so,' admitted Clara. It is but fair, at all events, that she should have her chance.'

It was a very characteristic speech, and Mrs. Thorne was much too wise to gainsay it. The slender patronage, however, that was thus obviously to be afforded by her elder daughter to the Lady of the Manor troubled her not a little. In the store-room she took the opportunity to say a few words upon the same subject to Lucy.

Your sister, I am afraid, is rather inclined to be prejudiced against Lady Trevor,' she said; and I think I noticed in what you said yourself, my dear, a similar feeling.'

'It was only because I was disappointed at her forbidding the reception at the Court,' explained Lucy, laughing. 'Of course it was all in fun; and I did not like the notion of my mother calling on anybody and not being welcomed.'

Mrs. Thorne patted her daughter's cheek caressingly.

I was sure you meant no harm, my darling, at all events. What I want to impress upon you is that Lady Trevor, being a foreigner-or what is equivalent to it, knowing nothing of our English ways-will have a difficult task here in getting on with people; and that we must all do our best to help her.'

'I am afaid that I can be of very small service to her, dear mamma; but whatever I can do, I will do.'

And if she is a little nervous, as Sir Richard calls it, and shrinks from us, whether from shyness or pride, you will not stand on your dignity-nor mine-but still do your best to smooth the way for her?'

'I will indeed, mamma; you may rely on me.'

CHAPTER III.

THE FIRST WELCOME.

WHAT used to be a common sight enough upon an English road, but is now one of the rarest, is a travelling carriage with four posters.' It is so rare that it is almost necessary to explain that

the latter expression meant four post-horses with two postillions, not an old-fashioned bedstead. On Derby-days and weddingdays such sights are still to be seen; though where the postillions come from is a problem that still remains unsolved. Have they any other employment at other times, or do they hibernate as it were, and only appear in their brief summer of custom?

Sir Richard Trevor, at all events, had the good fortune to discover a pair of them-though of very advanced age for boys'and was driving to Mirbridge, which had no railway station within ten miles, in the old style. It is an exhilarating method of progress enough; Dr. Johnson thought there were few things in this world equal to it, but from worth by poverty depressed,' and other causes, it must be confessed that he had had little experience of sitting behind four horses. It did not exhilarate either Sir Richard or her ladyship at all.

The Baronet, as we know, had only just reached middle life; or since this term always varies with the age of those who use it-let us say he was still considerably on the right side of fifty. He looked however, much older, though, curiously enough, this was not owing to the usual signs of age. His hair was still plentiful, and though it had lost the wave which had crested it in youth-a much more becoming attribute than the short curl-it showed not one tinge of gray, His figure, as he now and then stood up to scan the once familiar landscape, was straight and slim as a pine; indeed, its slightness spoke of delicacy of health; his eyes, too, roved from object to object with a brightness that had it belonged to youth itself might have been thought excessive. On the other hand, his face, which was otherwise a very handsome one, was deeply lined; there were sunken lanes leading to the corners of his mouth, and dark caverns under his eyes. The ungloved fingers with which he steadied himself when he stood up were thin and shrunk. His face expressed anxiety, almost apprehension. When he smiled his face was very attractive. It was easy to believe that at one time it would have been difficult for a woman of sensibility, or even sense, to have resisted its fascination; but he very seldom smiled. His voice was naturally melodious, but it had acquired that tone of impatience and irritation which belongs to the invalid. Sir Richard had hinted in his letter to the Rector of his wife's nerves being unstrung, but the remark seemed to apply to himself, rather than to the lady who sat by his side.

Lady Trevor was far, indeed, from looking robust; her figure was graceful and her complexion delicate, but no doctor who knew his business would have pronounced her to be in ill health. She wore a veil, but it seemed rather to enhance than to conceal her marvellous beauty, which, though she was no longer young,