her of the Past, and also filled her with fears for the Future. Lady Trevor, for the first time in her life, was seriously angry with her son.

'Hugh,' she cried with severity, 'you have not yet been introduced to Mrs. Grange, whose privacy you have invaded.'

'It was very wrong, but I can't say I am sorry for it,' he answered lightly, as he put out his hand to the housekeeper, 'since otherwise I should have had to wait for the privilege. Perhaps she will tell me-since her daughter will not-what these mysterious letters H. and J. stand for?'

'But it is not my daughter, sir,' replied Mrs. Grange nervously; then turning to Lady Trevor she added, 'It is Jenny Beeton, my lady, who is going to be married to my son Harry; we are marking the house linen, of which I have made a present to the young couple.'

'You must allow me to add my mite,' said Lady Trevor graciously; but she looks very young for a bride.'

'Jenny is twenty-one, my lady; my son is not much older, but he has obtained a situation for himself in London, and will soon have a home to offer her, I am glad to say, and fair prospects.'

Lady Trevor's eyes sparkled with pleasure; it was a pleasant trait in her mistress, thought the housekeeper, that she should rejoice in the happiness of this young couple of whom she knew nothing.

'So she is to live in London, is she? that is a long way from her own people, Mrs. Grange.'

'Why, yes, my lady; but, you see, she has no mother.'

Lady Trevor raised her head sympathetically; but what she heard was, in fact, good news to her. If her brother's wife, whom she had never seen, had been alive, she might have found one source of complication the more.

‘But she has a father, I hope.'

'Yes, my lady,' returned the housekeeper in embarrassed tones; but he lost his wife very young, and has been so long used to fend for himself that he will not miss Jenny much.'

'I hope you will be happy with your husband, my dear,' said Lady Trevor, addressing the girl for the first time. You are neat and tidy, and you write a good hand; you must let me see something of you before you leave us.'

She is up at the Court most days, my lady; that is,' added the housekeeper, smiling, she used to be before Harry came home; I don't know how it will be with her now.'

And where is your son staying?'

'Farmer Wurzel has been so good as to take him in, my lady, for the sake of Auld Lang Syne, and my poor husband, as once had a farm of his own. Mr. Beeton offered to have him at his cottage, but I thought it better not.'

'Much better not,' answered Lady Trevor. The next moment she regretted the speech, feeling that she had been too emphatic for the occasion; what had caused her to be so was the notion of keeping all that belonged to the Court as far apart from Spinney Cottage as possible.

'Oh, it's not that, ma'am,' said the housekeeper with a flush, and dropping her voice; 'my Harry is as honest as the day, and would never presume upon opportunity; but he and Mr. Beeton are not much of a mind, and it is just as well they should not see too much of one another.'

'What is Mr. Beeton?'

'Well, I hardly know what he calls himself, my lady; if you asked him he would say he lived upon his means, though there is no sign of it in what he is doing for Jenny. She has had a hard time of it, poor girl, I reckon. She has had much to contend with on account of her belongings. Indeed, her father has more than once got into trouble about the game.'

'But why should he poach if, as he says, he has means of his own ?'

'You may well say that, my lady; it is difficult for a woman to understand why a man should hanker after hares and pheasants who has meat in his pot at home; but so it is. It's bred in the bone with some of them.'

'Jenny looks, however, neat and modest, as if she had been well brought up.'

'No thanks to her father; though, for that matter, he is fond enough of the girl. He is too handy with his glass to have done his duty by his daughter. But some people seem to be born good, though the parson tells us otherwise, and Jenny is one of that sort.'

She has had bad belongings, too, you say, as well as her father.' 'Well, so 'tis said, my lady,' murmured the housekeeper, with reluctance; but it would be a sin and a shame to cast that up against the girl at this time of day.'

But what was it?'

'It was long before my time, and I don't rightly know, my lady,' returned the housekeeper; but whatever it was, it has It won't wash counted against her. It seems hard that innocent people should suffer for the wrong-doing of others, but so it is. out any more than that marking-ink when the hot iron has been clapped upon it: but it spreads and spreads, and there's no knowing how far it won't go.'

That is very true,' s ghed Lady Trevor. So wrapped up had she been in conversation with the housekeeper that she had paid no attention to the young people.

Clara Thorne, who, of course, was well acquainted with Jenny, had come down, like a goddess from her cloud, to rescue her

from Hugh's attentions. His 'chaff,' though harmless and good. natured enough, was evidently not appreciated; it was a relief to her when Clara broke off the conversation she was holding with Mr. Gurdon, and began, rather to her astonishment, talking to her about her eggs and poultry, just as Miss Lucy might have done.

And what are you going to do with your little farm family when you marry?' she inquired.

'Please, miss, Farmer Ward has offered to buy my fowls.' 'Then mind he gives you the proper price for them,' said Clara, laughing; they say he drives rather a hard bargain.' 'Sell them to me, Miss Jenny,' exclaimed Hugh, with ludicrous earnestness; 'I doat on fowls.'

Spitchcocked and with mushrooms,' put in Mr. Gurdon sccrnfully; why, I don't believe, Hugh, you have ever seen a fowl with his feathers on. Now I am come down here to paint a farmyard, and must have fowls, and I will give a fancy price for them.'

Jenny looked from one to the other with amazement, mingled with alarm. The gentlemen are joking, Miss Clara,' she said perplexedly.

Then if I were you, I would make them pay for their joke, Jenny. If you'll give me a little commission, I'll sell your fowls to them for you.'

'No, no,' exclaimed Mr. Gurdon merrily, no third parties will be treated with. It must be principals only, no middle-man.' 'And above all we must see the fowls,' protested Hugh. 'There must, of course, be a Private View,' assented the painter. Admission by card, or, what would be still better, by invitation from the proprietress, like a Show Sunday.'

To Jenny the whole of this was as unintelligible as though it had been spoken in a strange tongue. It was evident that the gentlefolk were in high good-humour, however, and she was not disinclined to send her eggs (and the fowls too) to the best market. 'I will ask father,' said she simply.

'She will ask papa,' cried Hugh;"'what do you think of that, Miss Thorne ?'

'I should say she had done it already,' said Clara, pointing to the house-linen.

The laughter which followed this sally attracted Lady Trevor's attention. What are you all laughing at?' she inquired; 'not at Jenny, I hope,' she added reproachfully.

'It was only at a very poor joke of mine, which is not worth repetition,' answered Clara. These gentlemen propose to bid for Jenny's effects-her fowls and farm produce-against Farmer Ward, when she leaves Mirbridge; and they want to go to Spinney Cottage to inspect them."

'What nonsense! I will have nothing of the kind,' said Lady Trevor with severity. Now go along all of you.' She drove them laughing before her, like a flock of sheep; a shepherdess well pleased that one of them at least should have proved so docile; and shut the door upon them. Then with a grave face she addressed the housekeeper.

'You must make Jenny understand, Mrs. Grange, that what these young gentlemen have been saying to her is all nonsense. It is not her fault,' she added quickly, seeing the girl's tears were very near her eyes; 'but I think Miss Thorne ought to have stopped it.'

That the young lady in question did not hold herself quite free of blaine may be gathered from the observation she was at that very moment making to her two cavaliers.

'I am afraid Lady Trevor is angry with me for permitting you to bargain with poor Jenny, though I had only her own advantage in view.'

'I can't think that,' said Mr. Gurdon consolingly; 'even Farmer Ward himself could hardly have imagined that we were serious in our pretence of disturbing the home market.'

It was not Mr. Gurdon, but Hugh Trevor, to whom she had looked for a reply; but Hugh was engaged with his note-book, in which he was setting down in his microscopic hand the words 'Spinney Cottage.'

CHAPTER XVIII.

HUGH TREVOR MAKES TERMS.

COUNTRY people have always the reputation of being more hospitable than those who dwell in town. It must be owned, however, that they have more reason to be so, for the country, with all its charms, is a trifle dull. A guest, unless he is altogether below the average, is a godsend. Even if he is not witty himself, he is the cause of wit in others, or at lowest a topic of conversation that contrasts favourably with local personages about whom everything has long been said that can be said. Moreover, he is unconsciously a civilizing element; the members of the family cease to bicker in his presence; the young ladies in particular will, if he is a bachelor and eligible, affect an angelic fondness for one another, which, if occasionally diversified by a passage of arms-or tongues-only shows them to be not too bright and good for human nature's daily food.' He is an excuse for pleasant little excursions which the aborigines of themselves would never dream of taking, and would be bored to distraction if they did. The possession of him is not a mere selfish pleasure; he is a motive to the neighbours for calling; he is a feature to the villagers in church.

:

To any country house Mr. Gurdon would have been a most attractive addition; he was agreeable, and had a good deal of tact; he could talk about other things than his art; was easily pleased, and, what is of more consequence, had a desiro to please others and on his own account, and not at all as the friend of his introducer, he soon made himself welcome at Mirbridge. But he was, after all, a superfluous luxury therealmost a waste, since he was so much more wanted in other country mansions. To the Trevor family all about their own house was novel and full of interest; it was a complete change from anything they had known elsewhere; they got on admirably -though in very different fashions-with the household at the Rectory, and desired no other acquaintances.

There were times, indeed, when Hugh condemned himself in vehement terms for having brought that fellow Gurdon down with him; he had expected life to be so triste at Mirbridge, that his company would have been indispensable, and finding that this was not so, he left to others the task-by no means a difficult one-of entertaining his friend. Why they were friends at all it is hard to say, and would be futile to inquire into, such cases being by no means rare; one might just as well attempt to speculate why that man ever married that woman.'

Hugh was cynical, vicious, overbearing and lavish; Gurdon was good-natured, independent, well-principled, and poor. They had nothing but youth and a club in common-at the latter they met, played billiards, smoked, and occasionally dined together; the painter introduced Hugh to his artistic circle, the Bohemian side of which proved attractive to him; but it was not sufficiently pronounced for his tastes.

'You English artists,' he said to his friend, in a tone of disappointment, are so infernally respectable.'

6

'I am sorry,' was the dry rejoinder; but while you are with us I think we maintain a fair average of vice.'

If Hugh looked for any toadyism from Gurdon, on account of his superior wealth or position, he looked in vain ; the painter's tongue was as free as his touch. He had accepted the other's invitation to the Court without the least sense of having laid himself under an obligation in so doing; but now that he was there he felt some gratitude to his introducer. The place was wholly to his taste, and not the less so because he saw little of Hugh.

He was always one of the tennis party, vice poor Dr. Wood, resigned-or, at all events, submitting-to the Inevitable; but otherwise he was left a good deal to himself. He had plenty of employment for his brush, both without and within doors. The Rector always welcomed him as a companion on his parish rounds. The atmosphere of luxury in which the young man