firs, and back through the clear moonlight to the small jetty of the hotel. We entered the warm and comfortable building. The folks who had been in dining had all gone into the drawing-room; but neither my Lady nor Bell seemed inclined to venture in among the strangers; and so we procured a private sitting-room, in which by good luck, there was a piano. The Lieutenant sat down. "Madame," he said, "what shall I play to you? It is not since that I was at Twickenham I have touched a piano-oh, that is very bad English, I know, but I can not help it." "Sing the rataplan song that Bell was humming the other day," said Tita. "You two shall sing it—you shall be the old sergeant, and Bell the daughter of the regiment." "Yes, I can sing it," he said; "but to play it-that I can not do. It is too fine for my thick fingers." And so he gave way to Bell, who played the accompaniment dexterously enough, and sang with a will. You would have fancied that the camp was really her birthplace, and that she was determined to march with the foremost, as the good song says. The Lieutenant had not half the martial ardor of the girl, who was singing of fire and slaughter, of battle and sudden death, as though she had been the eldest daughter of one of the kings of her native Strathclyde. And then, when she had finished that performance, it needed only the least suggestion of the Lieutenant to get her to sing Maria's next song, "Ciascun lo dice," so that you would have thought she had the spirit of the whole regiment within her. It is not a proper song. The brave Eleventh was doubtless a very gallant regiment; but why should they have taught their daughter to glorify their frightening of landlords, and their flirtations, their fierce flying hither and thither, like the famous Jäger that followed Holk? This is the regiment, Maria tells you, that fears nothing, but whom all men fear. This is the regiment beloved of women; for is not each soldier sure to become a Field-Marshal? The Lieutenant laughed at the warlike glow of her singing, but he was mightily pleased, for all that. She was fit to be a soldier's wife-this girl with the mantling color in her cheek, and the brave voice and gallant mien. With colors in her cap, and a drum slung round her neck-with all the fathers of the regiment petting her, and proud of her, and ready to drive the soul out of the man who spoke a rude word to her with her arch ways, and her frank bearing, and her loyal and loving regard for the brave Eleventh-why, Bell, for the moment, was really Maria, and as bright and as fearless as any Maria that ever sang "rataplan!" Queen Tita was pleased too, but she was bound to play the part of the stately Marchioness. With an affectionate pat on the shoulder, she told Bell she mustn't sing any more of these soldiersongs; they were not improving songs. With which-just as if she had been ordered by the Marchioness to leave the brave Eleventh-Bell began to sing the plaintive and touching "Convien partir.” Perhaps we may have heard it better sung at Drury Lane. The song is known in Covent Garden. But if you had heard Bell sing it this night—with her lover sitting quite silent and embarrassed with a shame-faced pleasure, and with a glimmer of moonlight on Grasmere visible through the open window-you might have forgiven the girl for her mistakes. A notion may have crossed my Lady's mind that it was very hard on Arthur that Bell should in his absence have been singing these soldier-songs with so much obvious enjoyment. Was it fair that this. young Uhlan should flutter his martial scarlet and blue and gold before the girl's eyes, and dazzle her with romantic pictures of a soldier's life? What chance had the poor law-student, coming out from his dingy chambers in the Temple, with bewildered eyes, and pale face, and the funereal costume of the ordinary English youth? We know how girls are attracted by show, how their hearts are stirred by the passing of a regiment with music playing and colors flying. The padded uniform may inclose a nut-shell sort of heart, and the gleaming helmet or the imposing busby may surmount the feeblest sort of brain that could with decency have been put within a human skull; but what of that? Each feather-bed warrior who rides from Knightsbridge to Whitehall, and from Whitehall to Knightsbridge, is gifted with. the glorious traditions of great armies and innumerable campaigns; and in a ballroom the ass in scarlet is a far more attractive spectacle than the wise man in black. Perhaps Arthur was not the most striking example that might have been got to add point to the contrast; but if any such thoughts were running through Queen Tita's mind, you may be sure that her sympathies were awakened for a young man whose chances of marrying Bell were becoming more and more nebulous. And then my Lady sat down to the piano, and condescended to play for us a few pieces, with a precision and a delicacy of fingering which were far removed from Bell's performances in that way. I suppose you young fellows who read this would have regarded with indifference the dark-eyed little matron who sat there and unraveled the intricacies of the most difficult music. You would have kept all your attention for the girl who stood beside her; and you would have preferred the wilder and less finished playing of Bell, simply because she had fine eyes, pretty hair, a wholesome English pleasantness and frankness, and a proud and gracious demeanor. But a few years hence you may come to know better. You may get to understand the value of the quiet and unobtrusive ways of a woman who can look after a household, and busy herself with manifold charities, and bring up her children well and scrupulously, and yet have a tender smile for the vagaries of young folks like yourselves. And then, if it is your excellent fortune to have with you so gentle and fearless and honest a companion-if your own life seems to be but the half of the broader and fuller existence that abides beneath your roof-you may do worse than go down on your knees and thank God who has blessed your house with a good wife and a good mother. times that were. There was a trifle of regret imported into this conversation-why, no one could tell; but when we broke up for the night, Tita's face was rather saddened, and she did not follow Bell when the girl called to her to look at the beauful night outside, where the rapidly-sinking moon had given place to a host of stars that twinkled over the black gulf of Gras mere. It is no wonder that lovers love the star light, and the infinite variety and beauty and silence of the strange darkness. But folks who have got beyond that period do not care so much to meet the mystery and the solemnity of the night. They may have experiences they would rather not recall. Who can tell what bitterness and grievous heart-wringing are associated with the wonderful peace and majesty of the throbbing midnight sky? The strong man, with all his strength fled from him, has gone out in his utter misery, and cried," Oh, God, save my wife to me!" And the young mother, with her heart breaking, has looked up into the great abyss, and cried, " Oh, God, give me back my baby!" and all the answer they have had was the silence of the winds and the faint and distant glimmer of the stars. They do not care any more to meet the gaze of these sad, and calm, and impenetrable eyes. 66 CHAPTER XXIV. 'Along the grass sweet airs are blown Of all the songs that we have known, Not that, my love, ah no!- Tales shall not be told out of school. We may We were harming no one by so doing, except ourselves; and if our health suffered by such late hours, we were prepared to let it suffer. For the fact was, we drifted into talk about our Surrey home; and now that seemed so far away-and it seemed so long since we had been there—that the most ordinary details of our by-gone life in the south had grown picturesque. And from that Tita began to recall the names of the people she had known in the Lake district, in the old time, when Bell was but a girl, running about the valleys and hillsides like a young goat. That, too, carried us back a long way, until it seemed as if we had drifted into a new generation of things that knew nothing of the good old have sat a little late that night. Yet both were ours, but hours will come and go. "The branches cross above our eyes, And what's the thing beneath the skies 1 Not birth, my love, no no- WE stood at the open window, my Lady, Bell, and I, with the calm lake lying before us as darkly blue as the heart of a bellflower, and with hills on the other side grown gray, and green, and hazy in the morning sunlight. Bell had brought us thither. The Lieutenant was outside, and we could hear him talking to some one, although he had no idea of our presence Was it fair to steal a march on the young fellow, and seek to learn something of the method by which he became familiarly acquainted with every man, woman, and child we met on our journey! In such matters I look to Tita for guidance. If she says a certain thing is proper, it is proper. And at this moment she was standing just inside the curtains, listening, with a great amusement on her face, to the sounds which reached us from below. "Ay, ah wur born in eighteen hunderd -that's a long time ago-a long time ago," said a quavering old voice, that was sometimes interrupted by a fit of asthmatic coughing; "and you don't remember the great comet-the comet of eighteen hunderd an' eleven? No! See that now! And ah wur a boy at that time; but I can remember the great comet of eighteen hunderd an' eleven-I remember it well, now -and ah wur born in eighteen hundred. How long ago is that, now ?" "Why, that's easily counted," said the Lieutenant; "that's seventy-one years ago. But you look as hale and as fresh as a man of forty." "Seventy-one-ay, that it is-and you that it is—and you don't remember the comet of eighteen hunderd an' eleven ?" "No, I don't. But how have you kept your health and your color all this time? That is the air of the mountains gives you this good health, I suppose." "Lor bless ye, ah don't belong to these parts. No. Ah wur born in the New Forest, in eighteen hunderd-Ringwood, that's the place-that's in the New Forest, a long way from eear. Do ye know Ringwood?" "No." "Nor Poole?" "No." ah wur there. When ah wur a boy-that's many a year ago—for ah remember well the great comet, in eighteen hunderd an' eleven-you don't remember that? No! God bless my soul, you're only a boy yet and ah wur born seventy year ago-and when ah went up to Lunnon, ah wur such a simple chap ?" We could hear the old man laughing and chuckling, until a fit of coughing seized him, and then he proceeded: "Ah wur taking a bridle down to my mahster, and what's the bridge you go over? Dear me, dear me! my memory isn't as good as it once was And at this point the old man stopped, and puzzled, and hesitated about the name of the bridge, until the Lieutenant besought him never to mind that, but to go on with his story. But no. He would find out the name of the bridge; and after having repeated twenty times that he was born in 1800, and could remember the comet of 1811, he hit upon the name of Blackfriars. "An' there wur a chap standin' there, as come up to me and asked me if I would buy a silk handkerchief from him. He had two of 'em-Lor bless ye, you don't know what rare good handkerchiefs we had then -white, you know, wi' blue spots on 'em they're all gone out now, for it's many a year ago. And that chap he thought ah'd bin sellin' a oss; and he made up to me, and he took me into a small public 'ouse close by, and says he, 'Ah'll be sworn a smart young fellow like you 'ill ave a tidy bit o' money in your pocket.' An' ah wur a smart young fellow then, as he said, but, God bless you, that's many a year ago; an' now, would you believe it, that chap got five shillins out o' me for two of his handkerchiefs-he did indeed, as sure as I'm alive. Wasn't it a shame to take in a "Lor bless ye! Never been to Poole! poor country chap as wur doing a job for Do ye know Southampton ?" "No." his mahster?" great travelers as you have been. You versation ended I do not know; but by should not boast of it." and by Von Rosen came in to breakfast. It is a shame for two women to have a secret understanding between them, and look as if they could scarcely keep from smiling, and puzzle a bashful young man by enigmatical questions. But, Lor bless ye, don't ye know the ships at Poole? And Winchester-that's a fine town, too, is Winchester. Ah'd a month at Winchester when ah wur a young man." "A month? What do you mean by that ?" "Yes, that ah did. Lor, they were far stricter then than they are now." "But what was this month you are speaking about?" 66 Don't ye know what a month in jail is for ketchin a rabbit ?" 66 Oh, it was a rabbit, was it?" The wicked old man laughed and chuckled again. "Ay," said he, "ah got one month for ketchin one rabbit, but if they'd ave gi'en me a month for every rabbit and hare as ah've ketched, Lor bless ye!—you young fellows nowadays know nothin'! You're simple chaps, that's what it is! Have you ever heard of the great comet of eighteen hunderd an' eleven? There now! And the crowds as come out to see it stretchin' out-long-jest as it might be the long gown as mothers put on young things when they're carried about-and that wur in eighteen 'underd an' eleven. But I'm gettin' old now, and stiff and them rheumatics they do trouble one so when they come on bad in the night-time. I'm not what I was at your age-you'll be thirty now, or forty mayhap p "Nearer thirty." "Ah never 'ad so much hair as youit wur never the fashion to wear hair on the face at that time." "And you followed the fashion, of course, when you were a young fellow, and went courting the girls. Yes ?" This hint seemed to wake up the old man into a high state of glee; and as he began to tell of his exploits in this direction, he introduced so many unnecessary ejaculations into his talk that my Lady somewhat hastily withdrew, dragging Bell with her. The old rogue outside might have been with our army in Flanders, to judge by the force of his conversation; and the stories that he told of his wild adventures in such distant regions as Poole and Southampton showed that his memory treasured other recollections than that of the 1811 comet. How the con "Madame," said the Lieutenant, at last, "I am very stupid. I can not make out what you mean." "And neither can she," observes one who hates to see a worthy young man bothered by two artful women. "Her joke is like the conundrum that was so good that the man who made it, after trying for two years and a half to find out what it meant, gave it up and cut his throat. Don't you heed them. Cut the salad, like a good fellow, and let Bell put in the oil, and the vinegar, and what not. Now, if that girl would only take out a patent for her salad-dressing, we should all be rolling in wealth directly." "I should call it the Nebuchadnezzar," said Bell. My Lady pretended not to hear that remark; but she was very angry; and all desire of teasing the Lieutenant had departed from her face, which was serious and reserved. Young people must not play pranks with Scripture names, in however innocent a fashion. "It is a very good thing to have salad at breakfast," said the Lieutenant; "although it is not customary in your country. It is very fresh, very pleasant, very wholesome in the morning. Now, if one were to eat plenty of salad, and live in this good mountain-air, one might live a long time "One might live to remember the comet of eighteen 'underd an' eleven,” observed Bell, with her eyes cast down. The Lieutenant stared for a moment; and then he burst into a roar of laughter. "I have discovered the joke," he cried. "It is that you did listen to that old man talking to me. Oh, he was a very wicked old person And here, all at once, Von Rosen stopped. A great flush of red sprung to the young fellow's face-he was evidently contemplating with dismay the possibility of my Lady having overheard all the dragoon-language of the old man. "We heard only up to a certain point," says Madame. sedately. "When he began to be excited, Bell and I withdrew." The Lieutenant was greatly relieved. The septuagenarian was not a nice person for ladies to listen to. Indeed, in one direction he was amply qualified to have written a "Dialogue between a Man and a Cat: being a discussion as to which would like to use the most bad language when the tail of the latter is trodden upon." Such an essay would be instructive in results, but objectionable in tone. All this while we had heard nothing of Arthur. That morning, when Tita sent down to inquire if there were any letters for us at the post-office and found there were none, she must needs send an urgent telegram to Twickenham, to see if the young man's parents knew any thing of his whereabouts. Of course they could not possibly know. Doubtless he was on his way to Carlisle. Perhaps we should have the pleasure of meeting him in Edinburgh. But this indefinite postponement of the coming of Arthur was a grievous irritation to the Lieutenant. It was no relief to him that his rival was disposed to remain absent. The very odd position in which he was now placed made him long for any result that would put an end to his suspense; and I think he was as anxious about seeing Arthur as any of us-that is to say, presuming Arthur to be certain to come sooner or later. If it should happen that the dogcart had been upset but there is no use in speculating on the horrible selfishness that enters into the hearts of young men who are in love and jealous. All these things and many more the young Prussian revealed to the sympathetic silence of Grasmere and the fair green mountains around, as he and I set out for a long walk. The women had gone to pay visits in the village and its neighborhood. It seemed a pity to waste so beautiful a day in going into a series of houses; but my Lady was inexorable whenever she established to her own satisfaction that she owed a certain duty. The Lieutenant bade Bell good-by with a certain sadness in his tone. He watched them go down the white road, in the glare of the sunshine, and then he turned with a listless air to set out on his pilgrimage into the hills. Of what avail was it that the lake out there shone a deep and calm blue under the clear sky, hat the reflection of the wooded island t was perfect as the perfect mirror, and that the far hills had drawn around them a thin tremulous vail of silver gauze under the strong heat of the sun? The freshness of the morning-when a light breeze blew over from the west, and stirred the reeds of the lake, and awoke a white ripple in by the shore-had no effect in brightening up his face. He was so busy talking of Bell, and of Arthur, and of my Lady, that it was with a serene unconsciousness he allowed himself to be led away from the lake into the lonely regions of the hills. Even a hardy young Uhlan finds his breath precious when he is climbing a steep green slope, scrambling up shelves of loose earth and slate, and clinging on to bushes to help him in his ascent. There were interruptions in this flow of lovers' complainings. After nearly an hour's climbing, Von Rosen had walked and talked Bell out of his head; and as he threw himself on a slope of Rydal Fell, and pulled out a flask of sherry and his cigar-case, he laughed aloud, and said— "No, I had no notion we were so high. Hee! that is a view-one does not see that often in my country-all houses and men swept away-you are alone in the world-and all around is nothing but mountains and lakes." Indeed, there was away toward the south a network of hill and water that no one but Bell would have picked to pieces for us-thin threads of silver lying in long valleys, and mounds upon mounds rising up into the clear blue sky that sloped down to the white line of the sea. Coniston we could make out, and Windermere we knew. Esthwaite we guessed at; but of what avail was guessing, when we came to that wild and beautiful panorama beyond and around? The Lieutenant's eyes went back to Grasmere. "How long is it you think Madame will pay her visits?" "Till the afternoon, probably. They' will lunch with some of their friends." "And we-do we climb any more mountains ?" "This is not a mountain-it is a hill. We shall climb or go down again, just as you please." "There is nothing else to do but to wait if we go down ?" "I suppose you mean waiting for the |