Enough of illustration. It is sufficient to say that my ideal had always flown mockingly before me, from place to place, or had revealed itself by little and little, hitherto. Disenchantment had

always followed partial illusion.

ever.

However, at the voice, at the appearance of this young French girl, who had suddenly dropped from the clouds into the Dowsbury hotel, I recognised instantly the presence of my genius again; the spirit long lost was appearing with more probability, more lustre, and in a more agreeable shape than So it had been once before after many months of the dullest vacuity, the most hopeless freedom from anything like original thought, or true and ennobling endeavour, as I was sitting wearily on the outside of a stage-coach, expecting nothing better for many miles than dreary talk about horses and noblemen's seats, there ascended to me, out of space, a companion who bore the exact message which was wanted, one which all reading and all nature had been powerless to bring to me before, and we conversed long and earnestly, with some of the interest exhibited in far-off, out-of-the-way latitudes at sea, when ships meet each other, with wonder crossing each other's track, and knowing they shall never meet again. Our talk was of the storms of the ocean of life, and I went my way inexpressibly strengthened and comforted.

But the present was a very different adventure. "I had thought myself certain of finding a conveyance to the interior," said the young girl to the waiter, "and very much wished to go further upon

my journey without losing any time. What will be the earliest hour at which you can promise me a carriage, since there is no diligence or public conveyance ?"

"There is an Eisteddfod in the neighbourhood," replied the waiter, “and all the carriages belonging to the hotel have been hired for the occasion, and have already started."

"And pray explain the meaning of the Eis——, I do not know how you call it."

"It is a kind of fair, Miss. There are also songs by the bards of our country, trials of skill amongst bands of music, and a great deal going on that is very well worth seeing."

Perhaps some of your carriages may return quickly, so that there may yet be one for me."

"It is very unlikely; the fair continues until the next day. Only one carriage is likely to return in the afternoon that we know of, and it has been promised to a gentleman staying at the hotel, who leaves to-day."

This was the carriage engaged for me. My morning was planned out for a few calls to settle. the business concerning the lecture, and improve my acquaintance with the Dowsbury people, and my intention was to start at three o'clock for Byrnbia, the famous "Hill of Arrows," to make some sketches there.

The waiter bowed and departed; the young lady, whose side-face I could see distinctly, mused a little, played with her coffee cup, and finally sighed.

Somehow, the Dowsbury Chronicle had lost its

>

interest, and my thoughts would persist in running into a maze of speculation concerning Mademoiselle. If she had been more positive, more energetic, insisting on a carriage being procured, if she had gone into even the smallest pet about it, insinuated that the resources of the inn were very small, or asserted that "they manage these things much better in France," the spell would have been broken, and my senses would have regained their equili brium; but there was an air of mournful resignation, an appearance of subdued anxiety, and almost hopeless patience, that betokened more than usual disappointment, and was disproportioned to the delay of a day at most. And once, too, her head turned towards me, and a hesitating glance seemed to inquire if any assistance or advice might safely be received.

"Pshaw! imagination!" The gentle face turned away again, rather pale, very calm, lovely, but not happy in expression. "Nonsense! what matters it to me if some girl from a pension at Brussels or Amiens is delayed an extra day from her friends, or has missed her road? I may, after all, be mistaken. Shall I offer my services only to have them freezingly and politely declined, with an utter want of appreciation of the spirit in which they are offered? Only to see that splendid head stiffen, those curls fall back with a little motion of surprise, and as the lady sweeps away with a graceful inclination, or remains coldly regardless, to call myself ugly names for my pains, and acknowledge myself utterly mistaken in the reading of character.

These were my reflections on rising and proceeding leisurely out of the coffee room. In a moment or two, in walking dress, I slowly passed the window.

Her head was leaning on her hand. Believing herself quite alone and unobserved, she no longer endeavoured to conceal an expression of profound solitariness and melancholy. Was it the effect of the dull, rain-spotted window-panes upon my vision, or were those large, dark, mournful eyes really filling with tears?

"Do unto others " aye, even though you are misunderstood. "Do as you would that they should do unto you" when the golden opportunity presents itself, at the risk of many a difficulty, or the swift moments will slip by, and in your own sorrow the darkness will be doubly terrible, peopled with the reproachful faces that have looked to you for a smile or an encouragement in vain. And then there is that but half-acknowledged law, glimmering up awfully amidst profoundest gloom, that when once the tide of being begins to flow gradually down towards black Avernus, when misfortunes press upon the soul, the current acquires an ever stronger impetus from tributary streams, fresh sorrows come, new sufferings arise, the sky is indeed black with clouds, the spirit more and more saddened and hopeless. Oh, for strong hands then, oh, for stout hearts, brave friends, to lead into the deep channels of hope and confidence the escaping stream of life which the quicksands of the world would so soon absorb and destroy.

interest, and my thoughts would persist in running into a maze of speculation concerning Mademoiselle. If she had been more positive, more energetic, insisting on a carriage being procured, if she had gone into even the smallest pet about it, insinuated that the resources of the inn were very small, or asserted that "they manage these things much better in France," the spell would have been broken, and my senses would have regained their equilibrium; but there was an air of mournful resignation, an appearance of subdued anxiety, and almost hopeless patience, that betokened more than usual disappointment, and was disproportioned to the delay of a day at most. And once, too, her head turned towards me, and a hesitating glance seemed to inquire if any assistance or advice might safely be received.

"Pshaw! imagination!" The gentle face turned away again, rather pale, very calm, lovely, but not happy in expression. "Nonsense! what matters it to me if some girl from a pension at Brussels or Amiens is delayed an extra day from her friends, or has missed her road? I may, after all, be mistaken. Shall I offer my services only to have them freezingly and politely declined, with an utter want of appreciation of the spirit in which they are offered? Only to see that splendid head stiffen, those curls fall back with a little motion of surprise, and as the lady sweeps away with a graceful inclination, or remains coldly regardless, to call myself ugly names for my pains, and acknowledge myself utterly mistaken in the reading of character.