to its duplicate, for Jane had turned as nearly white as the nature of things permitted.

'I came here understanding that you were hurt, Cecil,' said she, with that distinctness of utterance so significant of pentup rage. 'But it seems that you only wished to get rid of Frederick.'

'I might have been hurt,' returned Cecil quietly, 'had it not been for kind help and tendance.'

Jane laughed a little laugh, that was the concentration of contempt and scorn, and surveyed Ruth-to whom he had pointed, and who stood curtseying humbly, yet with great grace-from head to foot. 'Well,' resumed she, 'you have been tended long enough, I think. Is it not time to have done with your farce-to take off those ridiculous clothes, and come home?'

The duplicate faces became now alike in hue.

'I see nothing ridiculous in the clothes which have been so hospitably lent to me,' said Cecil sharply; 'but I see something very mean and base in jesting at honest people because they happen to be poor.'

There was a most embarrassing pause, during which the young hostess gazed on the fire, and brother and sister confronted one another with looks such as they had certainly never interchanged before.

Then 'Ruth,' said Cecil, with a tenderness in his tone that he seemed to exaggerate rather than to attempt to conceal, 'I am greatly obliged to you for your kindness. Your brother's clothes shall be returned to-night; and please to express to him my thanks for the use of them.' He held out his hand, which Rue shyly took, and, as he did so, turned round upon his sister defiantly.

'If you have not your purse with you, Cecil,' said she drily, 'I have mine. You

should always remunerate for their trouble honest people who happen to be poor.'

'Indeed, miss,' said Ruth hurriedlyfor Jane had already taken out three halfcrowns and laid them on the table-'my brother would be very vexed to think that I took money for The close of her sentence was lost in a passionate exclamation in Hindustanee; and Cecil snatched up the silver, and threw it, through the doorway, into the middle of the river, where the broken pole was still standing. What he said, I know not; but I am sure, from the expression which it evoked on his sister's face, that the Indian tongue is capable of conveying a strong invective; and after his retort, not a syllable of any language, European or Oriental, did Cousin Jane utter during our drive home.

CHAPTER IV.

FELLOW-LABOURERS.

THE pains which Cousin Jane took to set herself right, after that unfortunate day's proceedings, with both myself and her brother, were great and unintermittent. Directly she had made that speech suggestive of the advantage that would accrue to us at Gatcombe if anything were to happen to Cecil, I saw that she would have given much to have recalled it: she had looked, to use a popular and powerful image, as though she could have bitten her tongue out. Her apology and retractation had followed, as I have said, on the instant; and yet she seemed painfully aware that they had been insufficient. If her insult had been directed to myself,

I could perhaps have forgiven her; but the insinuation had been uttered, on her own confession, with reference to my father -the least self-seeking and mercenary of men-and it had wounded me to the quick. Her keen intelligence perceived this, and her efforts to re-establish herself in my good opinion were made through the very channel in which she had made shipwreck of herself. Her manner towards Uncle Fred underwent a complete change; she discarded her sullen ways, and endeavoured all she could to adapt herself to his genial mood. She anticipated Aunt Ben in lighting his pipe and cutting his newspaper for him after breakfast; and even took a part in that long-established recreation of the household, in which he took such unfeigned pleasure, namely, our Dramatic Readings. Hitherto she had icily declined to join them, and had sat apart, engaged, with pressed lips and knitted brow, over a certain intricate Chinese puzzle, and surrounded