the liveliest interest, and had had her suspicions. After Mr. Crewe's departure Mr. Rangely, the tall young Englishman, had rene

that chap, is she, Miss

; "you have my word

Victoria's hand and drawn her aside, and

d, "he particularly ask

said Vi

ipulated that yo

d Victoria, "for I've enjoyed myself imm

he really good titles, and he has an income of his own. I couldn't put him up here, in this tiny box, be

ria l

d I'm afraid I can't go to the convention-I

fret loo

the best prospects. It would be a

to be serious, "I haven't the slightest intention of making what you call

fret kis

ictoria. And your dear mother-perhaps you will know some day wha

ured, and wit

a long way off, Mrs.

her guest; "she's like my own daughter. But at times she's so hopelessl

Inn," said Mrs. Fronde. "He's h

relief to dear Rose,

"She has individuality, and knows her own mind.

ope so!" said

d asked Victoria to drop him at the Inn. But

her, Miss Flint?" he suggested.

ria l

me," s

whom he had met at his uncle's seat in Devonshire, and about Mr. Crewe and the railroads in politics. Many of these Victoria parri

on to fix the limits o

er the stone archway at

interested, and she de

ng

r tea?" she asked. "

he horse, with the reins hanging loosely over the shafts, had strayed to the side of the driveway and was contentedly eating the shrubbery that lined it. In

w drunk?" sai

, and drew his look to her. She had touched her horse

exclaimed. "I-I wonder

. Rangely, and sprang out

ied. "What's the m

welled up within her, and even in that moment she wondered if it could be because he was Austen's father. His hands were at his sides, his head was fallen forward a little, and his face was white. But his eyes frigh

aid, "nothing. A little spell.

to the buggy at his side and gathered up the rei

o Fairview," she said. "And w

seized the reins from her hands, he could have given her no greater effect of surprise. Life cam

m going to Ripton-do you understand? I'll be a

e reason why he did not wish to go back to Fairview, and common sense told her that agitation was not good for him; besides, they would have to telephone to R

that trap," she called out to

Hilary's horse out of the bushes towards the entrance way.

mfortable?"

m all right. I'll be abl

ng on the horse as fast as humanity would permit; and the while she was aware that Hilary's look was fixed upon her-in fact, never le

ilary had had a shock. She remembered how in her childhood he had been the object of her particular animosity; how she used to put out her tongue at him, and imitate his manner, and how he had never made the slightest attempt to concil

ing on the lawn, and she had looked at him without recognition; she had not, then, been able to bring herself to bow to him; to her childhood distaste had been added the deeper resentment of Austen's wrongs. Her early instincts about Hilary had been vindicated, for he had treated his

ashed upon her of the terrible loneliness of a life surrounded by outstretched, loving arms to which one could not fly; scenes from a famous classic she had read with a favourite teacher at school came

his lips, and longed with womanly intuition to alleviate it. She had not spoken -although she could have cried aloud; she

much pain?

t him t

pell-I've had 'em before. I-I

, "that I would allow you to

thank you for comi

lfish possess, she understood the man, understood Austen's patience with him and affection for him. Suddenly she had pierced the hard layers of the outer she

er own reaching out to it -who can, say? And

of you to c

umanity," she answere

. "You'd have done it for anyb

ia, hesitated. She understood it now. And yet she h

, Mr. Vane, and you are a ver

it. I'm ready for the scrap-heap

se had occurred to her upon w

need a rest. And I have been telling f

ok his

e said. "Stopping work

inking of for a year past, helped her to grasp their meaning. But she wondered still more at the communion which, all at once, had

ust feel that way," she answered, though her voice was not as ste

eover, she had suddenly grasped the fact that the gentle but persistently strong influence of the son's character h

e remembered wondering who lived in it. The house had individuality, and (looked at from the front) almost perfect proportions; consciously-it bespoke the gentility of its build

n manage now," but Victoria seized

,-Mr. Vane,"

shame at his help

lk. I'm much obliged to yo

ly quickly tied the other horse and came to Victoria's aid. Supported by the young Englishman, Hilary climbed the stone steps and reached the porch, declar

knob, and her eyes flashed over the group and

l," Victoria explained, "a

adily-across the threshold into the hall, and sat down on a chair which had had

at Mr. Vane had better see a

en't," said

y, who had been a deeply inte

on the other side, Dr. Tredwa

o the hospital. It's only

y, when he had gone; "my father w

"I haven't any use for a

trouble is, an

had not moved; that Euphrasia Cotton was still staring at her in a mos

g Victoria glance at Hilary's horse, she ad

tairs were always closed, was in semidarkness. Victoria longed to let in the light, to take this strange, dried-up housekeeper and shake her into some semblance of natural feeling. And

hink you ought, at least, to lie down for a little while. I

ith decision; "he'll die some day for want of a little c

e could think of no word

ong ago, and went right on about his business. He's never paid any attention to any

roke the silence. This was Austen's home. It seemed impossible for her to realize that he could be the product of this environment-until a portrait on the opposite wall, above the stairs, came out of the gloom and caught her eye like the glow of light. At first, becoming aware of it with a start, she thought it a likeness of Austen himself. Then she saw that the hair was longer, and more wavy than his, and fell down a little over the velve

Austen,-he was mi

sia who was speaking, and unmis

ve known what to reply, steps were heard on the porch,

Flint," he said, "and I

riends, and the doctor, it may be recalled, had been chiefly res

st instructions and on my own responsibility. M

ect for Victoria and h

oor a little wider, and

a

"I've had 'em before. I suppose it's natural

ll was it, Mr. Vane

ght as well pick up that case of yours and go home a

t in, "he's made up his

little, "Mr. Vane wouldn't object to

case; here was this extraordinary housekeeper, apparently ready to let Hilary walk to the square, if he wished, and to shut the door on their backs; and here was Hilary himself, who threatened at any moment to make his wo

ay turned

talk to you. Would you object to waiting a little while, Miss Flint? I have something to

I'll wait

h me," said Euphrasia,

but this was counter-balanced by a sudden curiosity to see more of this strange woman who loved but one

said Euphrasia; "it's n

,-but the

"please don't open it for me. Can't we go," she added, with an inspira

d; through the little passage, to the room where she had spent most of her days. It was flooded with level,

n injustice," she said.

aking in every detail of her costume and at length raising her eyes to the girl's face. Victoria coloured. On her visits about the country-side she had met women of

r, Victoria was, indeed, a strange visitant in that kitchen. She took a seat by the window, and an involuntary exclamation of pleasure escape

explained, "just as she planted them the y

ave loved flowers

rs, too. She used to wander off and spend whole days in th

loved," said Victor

ve seen birds eat out of her hand in that window where you're settin', and she'd say to me, 'Phrasie, keep still! They'd love

t. Euphrasia Cotton was standing in the shaft of sunli

. There wasn't many folks understood her. She knew every path and hilltop within miles of here

caught he

e needed scoldin' bad, and I've looked at the mountain and held my tongue. It was just as if I saw her with that half-whimsical, half-reproachful expression in her eyes, holding up her finger at me. And there were othe

ria, "it seems v

bove all the absolute lack of self-consciousn

laugh at me. 'We're meant to be wet once in a while, Phrasie,' she'd say; 'that's what the rain's for, to wet us. It washes some of the wickedness out of us.' It was the unnatural things that hurt her-the unkind words and makin' her act against her nature. 'Phrasie,' she said once, 'I can't pray in the meeting-house with my eyes shut-I ca

er the verse?"

orner of the kitchen and produced a book,

; "read it aloud. I guess you

ctoria

still an

earth tho

cloud o

deep thou

dost soar, and soa

fall the volu

book she liked," said Euphrasia

the book, an

ind, who

orld's rej

still some

tree or

me tenderly on the shel

tor

exclaimed, and added, with a fling of her head

ising to her feet. "Oh, no! I'm sure he d

hild, and just as trusting, and just as loving. He made her unhappy, and now he's driven her son

ummoned he

"that Mr. Austen Vane ought to be told

eterminedly. "Hilary wi

'll be Auste

" Victoria persisted earnestl

ean?" Euphrasi

nto his soul? Do you wish a greater victory than this, or a sadder one? Hilary Vane will not ask for his son-because he cannot. He has no more power to send that message than a man shipwrecked on an island. He can only give signals of distress-that some may hee

ad any living soul come between her and her cherished object the breaking of the heart of Hilary Vane! Nor, indeed, had that object ever been so plainly set forth as Victoria had s

ght to tell Aust

uestion came to her; the colour flooded into her face, and she woul

saw he was unhappy, and I calculated it wasn't Hilary alone made him so. One night he came in here, and I knew all at once-somehow-there was a woman to blame, and I asked him, and he couldn't lie to me. He said it wasn't anybody's fault but his own-he wo

ps you're too rich and high and mighty. Perhaps you're a-going to marry that fine young man who came with you in the buggy. Since I heard who you was, I haven't had a happy hour. Let me

ms, as though seeking by physical force to stop the intolerable flow of words. "Oh,

uphrasia standing in the middle of the fl