told, regard us with 'larger other eyes than ours, which make allowance for us all,' but that is, probably, far from being the case with persons who are only supposed to be deceased, and as it were 'in hiding.' It is sad to reflect 'how soon the memory of a good man dies with those he held most dear,' but it must be sadder to the good man himself who has the opportunity of remarking it in his own proper person. With Mirbridge and its unconscious people Lady Trevor had many tender associations, but as regarded her brother she had none.

In the bitterness of her feelings against him, she had even allowed herself to conceive of him as conniving at Hugh's flirtation with his daughter for the sake of the hush-money that might be extorted from him; but this was only a passing thought, which she knew had done her brother wrong. The picture of him which was prominent in her mind, and which had brought her to the spinney to-day, was that of an avenger; she felt that if he suspected her son's intentions, no sum of money she could command would prevent him from breaking every bone in that sombre Lothario's body. Money, however, could do much, and to avert even the breath of scandal, much more such a catastrophe as that, she was prepared to spend her last shilling.

'Why, that's nigh on a hundred pounds!' Those words, spoken by Jack Beeton in a stormy and contemptuous voice, seemed like a continuation of her thoughts.

'That's what he says,' returned the younger man, raising his voice in emulation of the other's tones. It's not my proposition, but his, and if you can't help me there's an end of it.'

'Well, then, there is an end of it, and so you may tell him,' replied Beeton with an oath; and both men rose from their seats and went indoors, gloomily, as it seemed, enough. 'An end of what?' wondered the eaves-dropper. Not of Jenny's marriage, surely; that would be the most unfortunate thing under the circumstances that could happen. In that case, for one thing, it would be necessary to take Sir Richard into her confidence at once, and that would involve-what above all things she desired to avoid-a rupture between her husband and her son. It was only for her sake, as she well knew, that Sir Richard 'put up with him,' as he expressed it, as it was; and the revelation of any disgraceful conduct in him would not only make an end of forbearance, but, despite all promises to the contrary, might bring down that sword of Damocles which hung by a hair over Hugh's head.

The talk that had taken place without the cottage would seem to have been renewed inside it, or, what was probable enough, a third person was being informed by the other two of the contents of the letter that had so moved them, for it was nearly an hour before the male inmates of the cottage re

appeared. They walked together a few paces into the wood, and then took different paths, each parting from the other with a silent nod, which in the younger man seemed to speak of dejection, and in the elder of sullen discontent. Upon the whole, Lady Trevor concluded that there had been no quarrel, from which-since quarrel there would probably have been, had the match between George and Jenny been broken off-she gathered some comfort. She was glad to remark, too, that the young fellow was well-looking, frank in expression, despite the obvious disappointment that clouded it, and looking altogether like a man who, having once won an honest girl's love, was not likely to lightly lose it.

Having waited sufficient time to convince herself that the coast was clear, Lady Trevor advanced cautiously to the cottage. All about it she noticed had a more liveable look than when she herself had dwelt there. The garden was better tended, the three stone steps that led to the door more scrupulously clean, while the whole face of the house was overhung with creepers, which gave it a picturesque appearance it had wholly lacked in her time. These improvements she rightly set down to Jenny's love of work and good taste, and that being so, she could not but wonder that, in spite of its being a warm autumn day, every lattice was fast closed as though it had been winter weather.

The poor are only too fond of shutting out every breath of air from their habitations, but in this case she had looked for better judgment.

She knocked at the door with her parasol, and failing to make herself heard, turned the handle, and, to her great surprise, found that the door was locked.

Was it possible that the cottage was empty, and her errand in vain?

On a second summons, however, Jenny's voice was heard from an upper window—at which, however, she did not appear-inquiring who was there, and on her replying 'Lady Trevor,' she was admitted, though not till after some delay, by Jenny herself. The girl looked very pale and wretched, and in her face were plainly to be seen the traces of many tears.

'Why, Jenny,' said her visitor cheerfully, as she stepped into the little parlour she knew so well, 'you take as great precautions with your cottage as though burglary in the day-time was a common offence at Mirbridge.'

Jenny elaborately dusted a chair before presenting it for the other's acceptance, and murmured a hesitating something about there being tramps about.

'Indeed. I should have thought even a tramp would have been careful about coming to your father's house with any ill intentions, if all tales of him be true.'

What Lady Trevor referred to was Mr. Beeton's reputation for reckless valour, but his daughter in her humility translated it as an allusion to his sporting propensities.

'Why, yes, my lady, he has generally a gun or two about.' Here she looked more agitated than ever, like one who has said something the full signification of which does not strike him till after he has uttered it. Her visitor guessed her thoughts and shared her fears. That particular form of 'bloodshed' had not hitherto struck her, but the likelihood of its occurrence now at once presented itself to her, and filled her with sickening fear.

'Jenny,' she said earnestly, after a short pause, during which her heart seemed to stop and then to recommence beating so loudly that she could hear it, I am come here as your friend, believing you to be in sad trouble. I need not ask if it is so,' she went on as the other kept silence, for I can see that it is. You have, unhappily, no mother; let me entreat of you to confide in me, as if you had one, and I were she.'

'I have had bad news, my lady, this morning,' faltered the girl.

'We will talk of that presently, when perhaps I shall be able to make it wear a better face. But you were in trouble before the bad news came.'

Jenny answered nothing, but turned scarlet. It was terrible to her to have to talk of such a matter to anybody, but worst of all to her present companion.

Again Lady Trevor guessed the cause of her confusion—which, indeed, was natural enough-and hastened to her rescue.

'It is bad for me, my dear girl,' continued Lady Trevor, divining her thoughts, to have to discuss this deplorable affair; but it is worse for you, so I will not pain you with any unnecessary questions. But is it not true that you are persecuted by the attentions of my son, Hugh Trevor?'

'Yes, yes,' murmured Jenny piteously, then sank into a chair, and burst into tears.

It had been in Lady Trevor's mind to ask Jenny whether something she had said or done could have been translated into a hint or encouragement to him; but, with such a spectacle before her, she dared not do it. Moreover she felt only too well convinced that the less she said about her son the better.

'Mr. Hugh knows that I am engaged to Harry,' gasped Jenny, sobbing, and yet he persists in coming here. He wants me to run away from home, and marry him instead.'

A little reflection should have convinced Lady Trevor that in this Hugh had lied; but for the moment she believed him to be in earnest, and it made her more angry with him than anything that had gone before. For a mere passionate fancy, then, this son, for whom she had devoted herself body and soul, was

prepared to wreck his whole future! To scheme, and plan, and toil for such a man was love's labour lost indeed! The position of the girl, too, almost as much her own flesh and blood as himself, and terrorised by merciless importunity, appealed to all that was best in her nature. Her sense of justice for the moment overmastered her.

'Why did you not complain of him to your father?' she inquired indignantly.

'O my lady, you do not know my father! There would have been murder done.'

'Good girl, good girl!' exclaimed Lady Trevor precipitately; 'you did quite right. You must promise me not to tell him now, but to leave everything in my hands. You should have come to me instead of Mr. Smug.'

'I thought of that, my lady; but I dared not. Moreover, as I was to be married at once, and go away from MirbridgeBut that is all over now,' and again she broke into a passion of sobs.

Lady Trevor threw herself on her knees, and pressed her lips to Jenny's wet cheek.

'Pray, pray believe that I am your friend, dear girl,' she whispered earnestly, 'and tell me the whole story.'

CHAPTER XXXII.

A PRECAUTIONARY MEASURE.

POOR Jenny had not much to tell that might not have been predicated by one who knew the world and its ways. Her beauty had really made an impression upon Hugh Trevor's heart as deep as it was capable of receiving. If he had deceived her in his proffer of marriage, he had in his mad passion risked as much as marriage itself would have cost him: rupture with a father already justly incensed against him; the turning of his mother's devotion into disgust; punishment of the severest kind at the hands of Jenny's father and lover; and the breaking off of his relations with Clara Thorne, which were really become as deepSelfish as he was, his rooted in his nature as its soil permitted. selfishness was shallow, and without premeditation, and for the gratification of the moment he was capable of the most reckless conduct. Such men are far more dangerous to society than more calculating scoundrels, because no sagacity can guard against their acts. On the other hand, in such vehement and egotistic natures there is no seductive charm; and it is probable, even if her affections had not been otherwise engaged, that such persuasive eloquence as was at his command would have been dropped in vain in Jenny's ear. As it was, she loathed him from

the first, a circumstance which, though he perceived it, in no way interfered with its Satyr-like pursuit of her. Her native modesty and respect for her superiors, and even a fear of the consequences to her persecutor should his conduct be revealed, had kept her silent till Mr. Smug had forced her hand. She was not without confidence in his power to help her, though somewhat apprehensive of the steps he might take to do so; but what had sustained her most under her sufferings was the knowledge that they must at least be short-lived. Her marriage with Harry Grange was to take place in a few weeks, after which she would reside in London.

Unhappily that very morning a letter had come from the carpenter with whom it was agreed that Harry was to go into partnership, excusing himself from that arrangement on the ground that he had been offered a sum of money to take another man in his place. He was sorry, he wrote, but he had a wife and children' (a tender statement enough, but which, when it appears in business matters, always involves sharp practice on the part of the speaker), and was compelled to look to his own interests in the matter, and unless the same sum could be raised by Grange, he must be off his bargain. It was not 'pretty'-— but so many things, not only in the carpentering line, are not 'pretty' and there being no legal obligation to hold him, there was nothing for it but to submit.

Harry, indeed, had appealed to his prospective father-in-law for a loan, but Mr. John Beeton was either unable, or unwilling, to lend him so large a sum, and the date of the young people's marriage had therefore become, at the least, uncertain. To Jenny's relation of affairs, given with much modesty and hesitation, but bearing the unmistakable impress of truth, Lady Trevor listened with rapt attention.

'Are you sure,' she inquired, when it was finished, that you have spoken to no one else save to Mr. Smug of my son's illconduct?'

'I am quite sure, my lady,' Jenny answered simply; 'I think I should have told Mrs. Grange had I had the chance, but I could only do so by going up to the Court, and that I dared not do.'

The mention of her so doing, indeed, alarmed Lady Trevor as much as it did herself. To get Jenny out of the way, and to keep Sir Richard in ignorance of the whole matter, were both of paramount importance. Her first impulse was to propose to the two young people to elope, and thereby sever at once the Gordian knot of their difficulties, but a little reflection brought her to a better mind. She had no right, as she acknowledged to herself, to expose this girl to the least breath of slander to save her son from the risk of disgrace; and if any other plan should