seemed to be wellnigh the aim and end of existence; and now, though conscious of having done well, she threw herself on the hearth-rug, in a fit of depression that was almost maddening.

"Oh God," she groaned, "help me! I cannot bear it !"

CHAPTER L.

SUCCESS OR FAILURE?

Once more the lists were posted at the door of the university, and once more a group of eager faces had gathered round to read them. Presently a tall figure came swinging down the street, and, ignoring the Pass-list altogether, made straight for the Honours.

It was all right,-better than he had dared to hope.

ANATOMY.

First Class.

DUDLEY, RALPH, St Kunigonde's Hospital.
Exhibition and Gold Medal.

Ralph's heart gave a great leap of thanksgiving. "Now," he said almost audibly, "I can go down to Borrowness, and ask Miss Maclean in so many words to be my wife."

As if the paper in front of him had heard the words, his eye caught the name Maclean below his own. He looked again. Yes, there was no imagination about it.

PHYSIOLOGY.

First Class.

MACLEAN, MONA, Lond. Sch. of Med. for Women.
Exhibition and Gold Medal.

Mona Maclean-her name was Margaret. She had told him so that day at Castle Maclean, and he had seen it in a well-worn prayer-book in Mr Ewing's church. But the coincidence was a curious one. He turned sharply round and touched a fellow-student on the arm.

"Who," he said hastily, "is Miss Mona Maclean ?"

"Miss Maclean? Oh, she is one of their great dons at the Women's School. She took a First Class in Botany the year I passed my Prel. Sci."

Certainly it was only a coincidence. No doubt this woman was an out-and-out blue-stocking, in spite of her pretty name; and even in the matter of brains he did not believe she was a patch upon his princess.

He knew his old aunt would be delighted to hear of his success, but he would not telegraph, lest by any chance the news should leak round to Mona. He wanted to tell her himself. She had been so interested the day he had told her the story of his life. He had not concealed its failures, and he wanted to tell her with his own lips of this first little bit of success. For, after all, it was a success to be M'Diarmid's medallist. No man who had scamped his work could possibly hold such a position as that; and Miss Maclean was so quick, so sympathetic, she would see in a moment how much it meant. It seemed almost too good to be true, that this time to-morrow he would be sitting with her, alone on her storm-tossed battlements, free to talk of his love, and to draw her secret from half-willing lips-free to build all sorts of castles in the air, and to sketch the bold outline of a perfect future.

He looked at his watch, and wondered how he was to exist till eight o'clock, when the night express left for Edinburgh. He scarcely heard the congratulations that were heaped upon him by one and another of his friends, so eager was he to hear what she would say.

The examination was over now-well over. He was free for the first time to give the reins to his thoughts, and to follow whithersoever they beckoned; and a wild dance they

led him, over giddy heights that made his brain reel and his pulse leap high with infinite longing. The dusty streets might have been Elysian fields for all he knew; in so far as he saw outward things at all, he saw them through a rosehued medium of love. Introspection was almost dead within him-almost, but not quite-enough remained to fill him. with intensest gratitude that this complete abandonment should have come to him.

"Oh let the solid ground not fail beneath my feet,

Before my life has found what some have found so sweet!"

How often he had uttered those words, scarcely daring to hope that his prayer would be granted; and now he had found what he longed for, and surely no man before had ever found it so sweet.

"Holloa! cutting old friends already?" said a merry voice in his ear. "Some people are very quickly blinded by success."

"Why, Melville, what brings you here?"

"I was on my way to the university to find out how many medals you have got. Your face proclaims four at least.” "I am sorry it is so deceptive. I have only got one." Anatomy?"

66

"Anatomy."

"Played! Anything else?"

"No. A second class in chemistry."

"And that's nothing?

We have grown very high and

mighty all of a sudden. Who's got the medal in physiology?"

"A woman!"

"Name?"

"Miss-Maclean, I think;" and Dudley was amazed to find himself blushing.

"When do you go down?"

"To-night."

"That's right! But look here, dear boy. Take a word of advice with you. Keep out of the way of the siren !"

"You go to!" Dudley stopped short, but his eyes flashed fire.

"It's a curious thing," he observed cynically, "how a man can go through half his life without learning to hold his tongue about his private affairs.'

Melville raised his eyebrows, and whistled a few notes of a popular music-hall ditty.

For about a hundred yards the two walked on in silence. Then Ralph put his hand in his friend's arm.

"Don't talk to me about it, Jack," he said, "there's a good fellow, but I have been the most confounded snob that ever lived."

Nothing more was said till they parted at the street corner, and then Melville stood and watched his friend out of sight.

"Another good man gone wrong!" he observed philosophically; and, shrugging his shoulders, he made his way back to the hospital.

The long day and the interminable night were over.

"Even an Eastern Counties train

Must needs come in at last."

And Dudley did actually find himself alighting at the familiar little station on a bright August morning. Never before had his home seemed so attractive to him. The strong east wind was like wine, fleecy clouds chased each other across a brilliant blue sky, and the first mellow glow was just beginning to tinge the billowy acres of corn. The tall trees at the foot of his aunt's garden threw broken shadows across the quiet lawn. The beds were bright with oldfashioned flowers, and the house, with its pillared portico, rose, white and stately, beyond the sweep of the carriage-drive.

"Welcome home, doctor!" said the gatekeeper's wife, curtseying low as Ralph passed the lodge. "You're gey late this year. Jeames cam' through frae Edinbury a fortnight syne."

"I suppose so," said Ralph, smiling pleasantly; "how is he getting on?"

"Vera weel, I thank ye, sir! He's brocht a prize buik wi' him this time;" and the good woman's face beamed with triumph. To the great pride of his family, the gatekeeper's son was studying "to be a meenister."

Mrs Hamilton came out to the door to meet her nephew, and a pang shot through Ralph's heart as he saw how frail she looked.

"Why, I declare," he said, putting his arm round her affectionately, "my old lady has been missing her scapegrace."

"Conceited as ever," she said, returning his caress, but the rare tears stole into her eyes as she spoke.

"You dear old thing! why didn't you send for me? And Burns, too, promised to let me know."

"Nonsense, laddie! There's nothing wrong. I have never been ill. I am getting to be an old woman, that's all; and I'm not so fond of east winds as I once was. Run up-stairs while Dobson infuses the tea, and then come and tell me all about the examination."

The breakfast parlour was bright with flowers, and the table was laden with good things. The window stood open,

and the bees hummed in and out in a flood of sunshine.

"Grouse already!" exclaimed Ralph.

"Yes; Lord Kirkhope and Sir Roderick have each sent a brace."

"What it is to live with the belle of the country-side, as they say in the story-books!"

"What it is to live with a spoilt and impertinent nephew! Very well done, Ralph! I have no patience with a man who does not know how to carve."

"Carving ought to come easy to the Gold Medallist in Anatomy, oughtn't it?" he said mischievously.

"Are you really that?"

"At your service."

แ And you have not shown it to me yet!"