particular, so never mind being married, but liberate this beautiful prisoner that is pining for the sunlight. Put it on, just to let me see how your hand looks. It will be an improvement, I am sure-for you wear nothing; there-give me your hand," and with this she put it on my third finger.

"What a splendid one it is! You must keep it on for to-day; every one will think you are engaged to a millionaire-what a joke!" Having accomplished her wish, and seen all she wanted, she left me, Dolly-like, to tidy up while she went down to luncheon.

I never remember seeing Colonel Domville to such advantage; he was quite in his element. The surroundings evidently harmonised with his idea of the fitness of things, very different to our poor little Southport villa; in this superior sunshine his flower of fashionable intelligence unfolded. His admiration for his wife was something remarkable. As Medora Prior he had been to her all that was ostentatiously polite; but now, as Mrs. Reginald Domville, a person incorporated in to his sacred being, he worshipped her with an idolatry he had hitherto observed exclusively towards himself. Estimating himself as the apex of all things, everything belonging to him partook of the nature of his own perfection, and was elevated to a like pinnacle. Incapable of any large-hearted sympathy, he concentrated what he possessed within the narrowest limits. strong attachment for my father was the only instance on record out of that sphere; and this arose from their being old schoolfellows and subsequently brother officers, though my father was some years his senior. The friendship had grown in the first instance. out of the immense admiration a small boy feels for the sixth-form boy who declares himself his protector. Whatever it was, the friendship existed, and, to his credit, Colonel Domville might be called a faithful friend.

A

Thinking that I should enjoy, and be all the better for a quiet afternoon, I went into the library, after luncheon, to search for a book. While I was thus engaged Colonel Stanhope came in and volunteered to help me, as I was looking for a particular volume I could not immediately find.

As we stood together, looking over the shelves, I passed my hands on the backs of the volumes casually, as I did so Colonel Stanhope stopped me, remarking:

"Excuse me, Mary: I want to see your hand."

"Ah! I know what you mean. Dolly made me put it on just now, only for to-day. I dislike wearing such rich ornaments, but this was poor mamma's."

From the grave and melancholy way in which he held my hand and looked at it, I feared he was mourning over my girlish vanity; and I continued to blush and excuse myself, when he said :

T T

"I wish you would wear it always," and with that he raised my hand to his lips.

As I lifted my eyes in astonishment, who should I see coming into the room through the open window but Philip Addison ! Was anything ever so unfortunate! He had heard and seen it all.

I found my book, but not one line of it did I read. I could only recall the tableau I had witnessed, with Philip's retreating figure, as he bounded through the window back into the verandah, casting a look behind him, it was impossible to forget. What did it mean? It seemed compounded of love, jealousy, and, alas! contempt!

CHAPTER XXX.

"In gloss of satin and glimmer of pearls."

Maud.

She was

AT six o'clock Christine roused me from my reverie. full of excitement, and would like to have galvanised me into some manifestation of delight at the prospect of wearing such a lovely dress as the one Miss Stanhope's kindness and taste had furnished; but I was far too unhappy and pre-occupied to appreciate it, notwithstanding Christine's private declaration that it far surpassed in beauty Madame, my sister's, whose dress she had already inspected under Barker's auspices. It was true, Madame's was " magnifique!” "La dentelle !" was only to be described by calling "Mon Dieu " as a witness, together with a pious appcal to Heaven as she threw up her hands and eyes in the direction of the ceiling; but Mademoiselle was "si simple, si elegante," that it almost moved her to tears of sympathy to note the perfect manner in which it expressed the purity and simplicity of maidenhood! She finished her commendations by taking it tenderly from the wardrobe, and placing it lovingly upon the sofa, she arranged every soft fold and stray leaf of the wreath of water-lilies, with a delicate touch and that profound veneration a Frenchwoman alone knows how to pay to her divinity-dress.

I hardly knew what to make of myself that I was not more interested, for the woman does not live, or rather is not worth living, who is regardless of her personal appearance; but to-night my vanity seemed dead. Of what use was dress or any other adornments if Philip would not look, and gave no sign of drawing nearer ?

How should I reach him ere it was too late, and save us both

from further suffering. But no, I was wrong, to suppose that he would ever suffer in any way. It was only poor, wretched I, alone, who was liable to that, because I had been foolish enough to make him my world; while he, perhaps, had scarcely another thought for me that was not unkind, if I might judge from that last look of his.

So I kept on torturing myself past endurance, until I tossed my head so violently that Christine cried aloud for me to spare the artistic edifice on which she was expending much useless time, energy, and taste.

I implored her pardon, and begged to have my hair dressed with its usual simplicity.

Yielding reluctantly to my desire, she expressed her sympathy, and made the best of me-consoled by having to decorate my head with a crown of water-lilies and long grass, which glistened with dew-drops, and made up for my deplorable want of taste. But the culminating moment of happiness arrived when she enclosed me in the marvellous tulle structure, a perfect work of millinery art. Slipping it over my head with proud satisfaction, she finished off every little detail with the utmost taste,-fan, gloves, handkerchief, and I was turned out to her complete approval, and at liberty to make my way downstairs.

On passing Miss Stanhope's door, I thought it would be but right to go in, and let her see the effect of her present.

"I have come to show myself," I said, smiling; "and to thank you for having tried so admirably to make the best of me. I think the dress is charming."

"So do I, and very becoming," she replied, turning me round on a pivot of inspection. "Adrian has sent to Covent Garden for such splendid bouquets, they came this afternoon. It is something quite new his taking thought for anything of the kind. The rooms look so pretty! I wish Adrian would have given us the library; but he said he must have it to escape into if he found the crowd too much for him. Where were you all the afternoon ?"

"In my room, reading."

I

"You were right to rest, otherwise I was going to say 'naughty girl,' for not coming to help me to arrange the flowers. always reserve that task to myself, a lady's taste is so much better than servants, who know nothing about the right combinations of olour; but Mr. Addison took your place. What charming taste he has! what a good fellow he is altogether! I wish you liked him a little better. By the way, what was the matter with you last night? Do you ever walk in your sleep, dear?-forgive my asking."

"No," I answered, with astonishment.

Why do you ask?”

"Because I fancied I heard a door close and open once or twice last night in this direction, or I may have been dreaming; but it struck me you might have become over-influenced or over excited after the séance, and were manifesting or retained some mediumistic quality which was disturbing."

"I was very much disturbed, I had frightful dreams; but I am not aware of anything further; for I found myself in my proper place in the morning, having overslept myself in consequence of falling asleep very late. I don't think anything will ever induce me to attend another séance."

They affect people differently; with us they have been a habit for years, and Adrian's greatest delight; the only thing I know that really interests him. What was the message left upon the table can you remember ?"

"Yes, but Colonel Stanhope warned us of your objection to reading them; so it is not fair for you to inquire, as we promised him to respect your prejudice in this matter."

"I am always so afraid of hearing what it would break my heart to know, that my dear brother's death is near; it is the question he has always been wanting to learn in these meetings. I tell him that he is wrong to seek such knowledge. 'Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.' I must say he seems to have taken a fresh interest in life of late. I never felt more cheered about him. Mary, dear, I hope that you may never know what it is to have all your love so concentrated that with the removal of one person from the world you feel that your own light in life must be for ever extinguished."

I did not reply, for I knew but too well what she meant. Was not that just what I was doing?

"Come downstairs, I want to show you the rooms before the people come." We went together, admiring everything. The reception and large drawing-room had been cleared for the dancers, leaving the small drawing-room free for the dowagers and wall. flowers. The decorations were perfect; flowers everywhere had converted the scene into a fairy-land.

"Where are the gentlemen, I wonder?-in the library perhaps. Let us go and see.”

Yes, there they were, two of them at least. Mr. Addison was standing with his back to the fire-place. Colonel Stanhope reclining in an easy-chair.

"Now, gentlemen, we want all our compliments before the crowd assemble. What do you say to my taste?" and with that Miss Stanhope, to my utter confusion, drew attention to my dress.

"That it does justice to the wearer," said her brother, with uch satisfaction, as he surveyed me from head to foot, much as a

proud mother might have done. He was fast becoming an enigma to me; disturbing in many ways hard to express, mingling with my dreams, giving me horrible nightmares; wearing himself insensibly into my life, with a silent power impossible to shake off, simply because I resembled a woman he had once loved or rather still loved, since it must be with her that he held spiritual communications.

I did not dare to look at Mr. Addison, who offered no remark in reply to Miss Stanhope's inquiry. I could not tell if he saw me; I only knew that he did not care to speak; but Miss Stanhope, who no doubt felt piqued at his want of appreciation in not offering her a compliment on her taste, said reprovingly :

"You must not grow indifferent to the charms of ladies and their society, Mr. Addison-you are too young for that; you have not even bespoken Mary for a dance this evening; her card is sure to be soon filled-you ought to be early in the field."

"It is an honour I dare not hope for," he said, somewhat stiffly.

"How do you know that you cannot hope for the honour if you don't ask? What a foolish man you are! 'Nothing venture, nothing have,' remember," said Miss Stanhope.

"Retreat is the better part of valour," he cried, lightly; “I quote the antithesis of your maxim to prove my case. You must excuse me, Miss Stanhope, in this. I shall be happy to be your cavalier throughout the evening in every other respect but that of a dancing man."

Wounded to the quick by his direct refusal to have anything to say to me, I hurried out of the room to get rid of my tears, and hiding myself in a corner of the small drawing-room, was battling with pride, anger, and disappointment when Colonel Stanhope found me. I strove to conceal all traces of suffering in his presence; but he read sufficient to come directly to the point.

"What have you done to repel Addison? why can't you like him? I have noticed for some time the secret antagonism going on between you-on your side, I am afraid."

"You are quite mistaken, it is all the other way!" I burst out, glad to unburden my misery to some one. 'He has taken a dislike to me, and takes no pains to conceal his aversion."

"I think you wrong him."

"I wish I thought so!" I said, earnestly, flushing crimson, as I remembered that in that last admission my secret was no longer my own.

"Poor little maiden!" he said, tenderly clasping one of my hands in his, with sympathy; "is that why the poor little heart