don't lose time, my good boy, but tell me this, for I must know."

Dick became much confused and disturbed, remembering his mother's caution to him not to mention her. He could not understand why she should thus be dragged into the question. But she had evidently expected it, which was very perplexing to him. He faltered a little in his reply.

"My mother-is just my mother, ma'am. She lives with me; she's nursing Mr. Ross now."

The old lady gave a cry, and grasped him by the arm. "Has she told him?"

she cried. "Does Val know?"

"Know what?" said Dick in amaze. She gazed at him intently for a moment, and then all at once fell a-crying and wringing her hands.

"Is my boy ill?" she said. "What is the matter with him? how soon can we go to him? Will you take me there, Richard, as quick as we can go? Your mother is nursing him, you are sure? and you don't know anything she could have told him? Oh, let us go! there is not a moment to lose."

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She got up hastily to ring the bell, then sat down again. There will be no train -no train till to-night or to-morrow; oh, these trains, that have always to be waited for! In old days you could start in your post-chaise without waiting a minute. And, poor lad, you will want a rest," she added, turning to look at him, "and food. Oh, but if you knew the fever in my mind till I am there!"

"Don't be too anxious," said Dick, compassionately, understanding this better; "the crisis cannot come for four days yet, and the doctor says my mother is an excellent nurse, and that he'll pull through."

of Dick. I fear this was not so independent a judgment as Lady Eskside supposed, for of course her husband had suggested the resemblance she was called upon to remark; but she had no unbounded confidence in her husband's judgment, and she was upon the whole as likely as not to have declared against him. Lady Eskside turned sharply round upon ber. "What are you crying out about, Margret? I expected a woman like you to have more sense. What I wanted to tell you was, that I am going away for a day or two. Well; why are you staring at a stranger so?"

“Oh, my lady!” cried Mrs. Harding, "it's no possible but what you see

46

Ay, ay- I see, I see," cried Lady Eskside, moved to tears; "well I see; and if it please God," she added devoutly, "I almost think the long trouble's over. Margret, you'll not say anything; but I have no doubt you know what it has been this many a year."

"Oh, my lady! yes, my lady! How could I be in the house and no know?"

"It is just like you all!" cried Lady Eskside, with another sudden change of sentiment; "prying into other folk's business, instead of being attentive to your own; just like you all! But keep your man quiet, Margret Harding, and hold your tongue yourself. That's what I think," she went on softly, "but nothing's clear."

Dick sat and listened to all this, wondering. He thought she was a very strange old lady to change her tone and manners so often; but there was enough of sympathetic feeling in him to show that, though he could not tell how she was moved, she was much moved and excited. He was sorry for her. She had so kind a look that it went to his heart. Was it all for Val's sake? and what did she mean about his mother? Somehow he could not connect his own old suspicions as to who his father was with this altogether new acquaintance. He got confused, and felt all power to think abandoning him. In everything she said, it was his mother who seemed to have the first place; and Dick felt that he knew all about his mother, though his father was a mystery to him. Of what importance could she be-a tramp, a vagrant, a woman whom he himself had only been able to withdraw from the fields and roads with difficulty what Mrs. Harding must have been very could she be to this stately old lady? close behind, for she followed almost Dick, for his part, was deeply confoundinstantly. She gave a little cry at sighted, and did not know what to think.

Lady Eskside rose again in her restlessness and rang the bell. "Bring something for this gentleman to eat," she said, when Harding appeared; "bring a tray to the dining-room; and get me the paper about the trains; and let none of the other fools of men come about me to stare and stare," she cried fretfully. "Serve us yourself. And bid your wife come here- I have something to say to her."

"To the dining-room, my lady?” "Didn't I say here!" cried Lady Eskside. "You're all alike, never understanding. Send Margret here."

66

"Yes, ma'am - my lady-I suppose

She came up to him with a tremulous was aware, no one but herself had the smile when the housekeeper went away. faintest inkling of this blessed way of Richard," she said, speaking to him as clearing up the troubles of the family, or if (he thought) she had known him all his knew anything of Dick Brown and his life"if I am right in what I think, you mother. She felt that she had found it and I will be great friends some day. out, that it would be her part to clear it Was it you that my boy wrote about, that all up, and the thought was sweet to her. he was fond of when he was at EtonAnd as for her anxiety, Dick made so oh, how blind I have been! — that had a light of Valentine's illness, which did not mother you were very good to? My man, now alarm himself, that he made Lady was that you?" Eskside rather happy than otherwise by his account, supplying her with a reason it was me for Val's silence without communicating "That worked so well, and raised your-any alarm to her mind. Very soon she self in the world? that he was going to knew everything about Dick, - more than see always, till some fool, some meddling he knew himself-his tramp-life, his fool that knew no better," cried Lady wanderings with his mother, his longings Eskside," wrote to my old lord to stop for something better, for a home and it? But I thank God I did not stop it!" settled dwelling-place. And Dick, withsaid my lady, the tears running down her out knowing, made such a picture of his. cheeks. "I thank the Lord I had con- mother as touched the old lady's heart. fidence in my boy! Richard! it was you" She used to sit at the window and watch that all this happened about? You are for the boat. That was the first thing sure it was you?" that reconciled her a bit," said Dick. "There could not be two of us," he" She used to watch and watch for Mr. said, his face lighted up with feeling; for Dick, good fellow, though he did not know why she was crying, felt something rise in his throat at the sight of the old lady's tears. "Yes, ma'am - I mean my lady."

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Ross's boat, and sit like a statue when
we'd started him, to see him come back.
She always took a deal of interest in Mr.
Ross."

"Did she ever tell you why?"

"Because he was so kind," said Dick. "Don't call me my lady, my bonnie" I've thought often there was more in it man; call me - but never mind - we'll than that; but what could a fellow say to wait a while; we'll do nothing rash," cried his mother, ma'am? I wasn't one to Lady Eskside. "You're hungry and worry her with questions. That's how tired all this time, while I've been think- she used to sit watching. Mother is ing of myself and of Val, and not of you. strange often; but there never was any Come and have something to eat, Rich- harm in her," said Dick, ferventlyard; and then you'll take me to my boy.""never! The others would hold their But Lady Eskside was two or three tongues when she was by I've thought years over seventy. She was worn out of it often since; and when she saw my with anxiety, and now with the sudden ex- heart was set on settling down, she gave citement of this visitor. She had taken into it, all on my account. That is what neither food nor sleep as became her I call a good woman," he cried, encouryears since Val had disappeared; and aged by the attention and sympathy with before her preparations could be made, which his story was received. Lady Eskshe herself allowed that to attempt to side learnt more in an hour or two of the travel by the night train would be foolish woman who had cost her so dear, than and unavailing. "I don't want to die she could have done otherwise in years. before it's all settled," she said, smiling She found out everything about her. She and crying. "We'll have to wait till to- even got to feel for and pity the mother morrow." And Dick, who had travelled ignorant, foolish, unwitting what harm all night, was very willing to wait. She she was doing who thus kept to her sat by him and talked to him while he had savage point of honour, and never behis meal, and for an hour or more after; trayed herself nor claimed her son. and though Dick was not stupid, he was Dick, unconscious, told everything. It a child in the hands of the clever old was only on thinking it over after that he lady, who recovered all her spirit now remembered again his mother's charge that her anxiety was removed, and this not to say anything of her. "Say only wonderful power of setting everything it's your mother." Well! he said to right was put into her hands. Lady Esk- himself, he had said no more. It was as side was but human, and, so far as she his mother that he had spoken of her, and

as that alone. He knew her in no other character. He had spoken of her life, her habits, her goodness; but he had told nothing more. There was not, indeed, anything more to tell, had he wished to betray her.

turbation lest he should be taking too much upon him, and wandered through the shrubberies, and out into the woods. It was a soft spring afternoon, the sun getting near his setting, the trees showing a faint greenness, the sound of the In the afternoon, Lady Eskside was Esk filling the air. The river was full persuaded to go and rest a repose and strong, swelled by the spring rains, which she wanted mightily-and Dick and by the melting of all the early frosts. was left alone. It was then that he be- It made a continuous murmur, filling the gan to think that possibly he had been whole soft universe around with an allindiscreet in his revelations; and he was pervading sound. Dick had almost forsomewhat frightened, to tell the truth, gotten what the woods were like in the when he found himself left in the great early spring; and the charm of the stilldrawing-room alone. He did not know ness and the woodland rustle, the slantwhether it would be right for him to waiting lines of light, the bright gleams of there, where Lady Eskside left him, until green, the tender depths of shadow, stole she came back. He felt a little doubtful into his heart. He had a still, profound, whether he might examine the great cab- undemonstrative enjoyment of nature, inet, and all the curious things he saw, loving her without being able to put his and which fired him with interest. He love into words; and the beauty of those could not do them any harm, at last he irregular banks, all broken with light and reflected; and he did not think the kind shade, topped with trees which threw up old lady would object. So he got out his their tall stems towards the sky, waiting note-book, and made little drawings of till the blessing of new life should come various things that struck his fancy. upon them-delighted the young man, The wonder being over for the moment, who for years had known no finer scenery and the pressure of Lady Eskside's ques-than the unexciting precincts of the tions, Dick's mind gladly retired from it Thames. Dear Thames, kind river, foraltogether, and returned to easier every-give the words! - ungrateful words to day matters. That this discovery, what- come from the lips of one who owes thee ever it was, should make any difference untold pleasures; but soft meadows and in his life, did not seem to him at all a weeping willows, and all the gentle lights likely idea; nor did such a notion seri- and shadows of the level stream, looked ously enter his mind. And no thought tame beside the foaming, tumbling river, of the possible transference of his own rushing with shouts among its rocks, lowly and active life to such surroundings singing over its pebbles, leaping and as those which were now about him, ever hurrying onward through all those bold occurred to Dick. He would have been braes that hemmed it in, and played perextremely amused by the idea. But he petual chase and escape with the brown made a note in his book - a rough little torrent. The trees on Eskside were not drawing, yet quite enough to be a guide the grand broad placid trees to which to him of sundry little "details". Dick was used. Red firs, with the sun arrangements of brackets and shelves, on their great russet pillars; white which he thought might be adapted even birches, poising daintily on every fairy to his little place on a small scale. He knowe; pale ash-trees, long-limbed and had his eyes always about him, ready to bare mixed with the oaks and beeches, note anything of the kind; and though and gave a different character to the he smiled to himself at the idea of copy-scene; and here and there a bold bit of ing in his tiny parlour what he saw in this brown rock, a slip of red earth, the stony great room, yet he made his drawings all course of a burn which went rattling in the same, with his rough workman's pen-hot haste to join the Esk, crossing the cil. The drawings were very rough, but path and toppling down in dozens of tiny he knew how to work from them, and in waterfalls all these were like nothing his mind's eye already saw a homely imi- he had ever seen before. He strayed tation of the objects he admired figuring on a little further and a little further, upon his low walls. He even thought it would amuse Val, when he got better, to see in the boatman's parlour a humble copy of the brackets in Rosscraig.

And after this, as one of the windows was open, he strayed out, with some per

by bypaths of which Val knew every curve and corner, under trees, every one of which, could they have spoken, would have asked for news of their young lord. Sometimes it occurred to him, with a sense of additional pleasure,

that all this would one day belong (in trouble, he could only intrude; and to his young patron. Would Val ever yet he could not help being interested. ask him to come here, he wondered? Could it be from her that the sob had then "Lord bless me!" said Dick to come? and why should she be crying himself, "why should he? He'll always here, all alone, like an enchanted prinbe kind and good as long as he lives; cess? He knew little about enchanted but why should he ask the like of me?" princesses, but he had a tender heart, and he laughed at his own absurdity. and the sob had troubled him. He went But what with these thoughts, and what back again, passing slowly, trying to with no thought at all, mere pleasure, make out, without staring which was which perhaps carries farthest, he went not consistent with Dick's idea of “manon, much farther than he knew, as far ners" who it was, and what she was as the linn and the two great beeches doing under the shadow of the tree. The which had played so great a part in Val's soft grass glade between these two life. Just before he reached that point giants of the wood was lighted up by a he was stopped by a sudden sound which slant ray of the sun which slid all the startled him, which had a distinct tone way down the high bank on the other of humanity in it, and did not spring side of Esk, to pour that oblique line of from the fresh and free nature about. glory under the great sweeping boughs It was the sound of a sob. Dick stood over the greensward. She was seated still and looked about him, with recollec-out of the sunshine, but with her face tions of his own childhood rising fresh turned towards the light, and it seemed into his mind, and a tender thought of to Dick that it was a face he had seen finding some poor little tired wanderer before. I do not think the fact that it under some tree, crying for weariness. But he could see nothing, and presently went on again, persuading himself that his ears must have deceived him. He went on, himself rousing intermittent echoes, for his step was sometimes inaudible on the mossy turf, and sometimes sent thrills of sound all through the wood, as his foot crashed on a fallen branch, or struck the pebbles aside in a little shower.

was a young face, and a fair one, touched him so much as that it was very pale and mournful, justifying his idea that the sob must somehow have belonged to it. How he would have liked to linger, to ask what was the matter! He would have done so, had she not been a lady; but Dick knew his place. His surprise was great, however, when, as soon as his back was turned, he heard a stir, a sound of footsteps, a faint call, which seemed When he got to the linn he paused addressed to him. He turned round some time on the edge of the river, quickly. The girl, whoever she was, had struck by the beauty of the place; and risen from her seat. She had come out only when he was passing on, perceived of the shade into the sunshine, and was behind him, all at once, somebody sitting standing between the trees, with the light at the foot of one of the trees a little upon her, catching a glittering edge of figure muffled in a blue cloak, and lean-hair, and giving a hem of brightness to ing against the bole of one of the big beeches. Dick made an unconscious exclamation "I beg your pardon". and went on, half frightened lest he should have disturbed some one who had a better right to be there than he had. But this incident broke the spell of his wandering, and recalled him to the thought that he was far from Rosscraig, and that it would be safer to turn back as he had come, than to risk losing his way. Perhaps a little curiosity about the solitary figure under the tree had something to do with this prudent thought; but his turiosity was lessened by a second glance he had stolen through the trees, which showed him that it was a lady who sat there. Had it been a tramp-woman, Dick might have shown his sympathy; but with a lady, even one

one side of her figure, and to the outlines of the blue cloak. "I beg your pardon; did you call me?" said Dick, shy but eager. Perhaps she had lost her way. Perhaps she wanted help of one kind or another. Then the little woodland lady beckoned to him timidly. I think, if it had not been for the anxiety and longing that swelled her heart wellnigh to bursting, that Violet would never [have had the courage thus to appeal to a stranger in the wood.

CHAPTER XXXV.

SHE advanced a step to meet him, timid, yet with that confidence which social superiority gives: for Dick, I am bound to confess, though I love him, was not one of those wonderful beings who bear the exterior of a fine gentlemaa