Year: 1868

signs of its own. unDoted by the world,
in that tender lingering pressure Of the
hand in that one flashing glance Of love
from the soldiers dark luminous eyes, art
fully veiled next moment under their long
lashes in those two little words, .Dinna
forget. whispered under the breath. and
instinct with precious meaning of their
own. And then he was gone.


'Dinna forget Would she ever forget
him! whispered Frederica to herself, No;
never-never!


Two uneventful years had come and
gone since Captain Barringer left Belair;
but neither the distractions Of half q season
in London ttown did not agree with Lady
Spencelaugh's healthy, nor the quister
pleasures Of oountry-li had dulfed the
edge of Frederiea's memory Day after
day. she lived over again in thought the
words the looks. the tones Of the gay young
soldier; and without being in the least
melancholy or lovelorn, she clung with oil
w0man's devotion to the fetish she had
set up in her own heart. saying to herself
times without number, that it must be GOOD
and true because it was % beautiful. She
heard of her idol frequently, but not from
him; certain law-procsedings. which the
baronet had kindly consented to watsh in
the interest of his young friend, necessi-
tating frequent communications between
the captain and Sir Philip; and the letters
of the former never concluded without
soG,e message to Miss Spencelaugh, which
the baronet always delivered with perfect
good faith in humorous unveracity; but
wherefrom Frsderica contrived to elicit
deeper meaning than the mere words
themselves seemed to convey. In ono of
his earlier epistles Captain Barringer had
declared his intention Of selling ont at the
end of three years. and coming homo to
settle; an intimatiOn which, to Frederica's
ears could have but one Interpretation
then would his love, hitherto unspoken,
reveal itself in words, then would he claim
her as his own for ever


But it was all over now--the bright
dream which she had cherished with fuch
tender faithfulness. Loves little comedy
was played out the lamps were extinguish-
ed the curtain had come down with . run;
and the chill gray daylight Of reality was
poured over the scene of 20 many vanished
illusions. In the first sharp pain Of her
loss. she thought herself more deeply strick-
ell than she was in reality; she knew little
of the gentle power Of Time to heal far
worse wounds than hers; but doomed that
all her life must henosferth be as blank
and dreary as she felt tho present to be.
Her woman's pride was deeply wounded
to fl nd how easily she had allowed herself
to be fooled by one whose only object had
been to while away few idle hours; but
she held her crushed heart bravely, and
uttered no plant; and never had her oyes
shonc more brightly, nor her dark beauty
flushed to rarer loveliness, than on that
sunny afternoon when she rode seward
from Beair. with the dearest hopes of her
young life quenched within her for ever.


A strong tide was rolling magnificently


in when Frederica refined up her mare on
the summit of the great rock known ~
Martell's Leap. She took off her hat. and
let the breeze play among her hair. and
listened to the roar of the waves a. they
shiversd OH the beach three hundread feet
below; with eyes that followed dreamily in
the wake Of some outward bound ship,
whose white sails cleaned ghost-like
through tho haze that vciled the horizon o
mile or two away. She watched till the
ship could bs seen no longer. and then turn
ed Zulsika's head inland, and rode gently
homsward by way Of St David's Valley.
and through the fruitful champaign country
that stretched southward from Belair.
Coming up with Sir Philip in the park, lead.
ing his cob by the bride. which had fallen
lame, she dismounted. and took her uncle's
arm, while Mr.. Bevis turned off in the
direction of the stables with Zuisika and
the cob.


Your roses are quite brilliant this after
noon.' said the old man galllantly oh.
been as far as Martelrs Leap, have you?
Far better than dawdling in the house. my
dear; emily be careful yeu don't let Zuleika
take you too near the edge, or the catastro-
phe that gave its name to the place might
unfortunately be repeated. Lot Us rest
here for minute or two; have something
particular to say to you. and could nard.
" have quieter spot than this to say it
| in


Frsderica's heart sank within her; shc
forsbOded but too surely what it WAS that
her uncle wished to say to her. They had
left the main avenue Of the park. and had
taken a by path through the shrubbery
which would bring them more quickly to
tho house, and had now reached Z little
secluded nook among the grcensry-a
semicircle of sOftest turf, planted round
with here aud thero rustic seat. and in
tho midst tall terminal figure Of Hymen
in white marble. placed there by some pre-
viOus owner of Belair, to make sacred the
grove where he had wOoed and won the
lady whom he afterwards made his wife.


The barOnst and his niece sat down on
a curiously carved bench. shaded by an i'm
mense laurel from the rays Of the westeriug
sun, Sir Philip sat without speaking for
a minute or two. tapping his boot absently
with his riding whip-a tall, white haired
handsome old man. hut very frail and
| delicate looking; with manners that were
marked by certain kindly, old-world
courtliness of tone not often met with now
a days.


You remember. Freddy he began at
last. my speaking to you some time
ago. respecting the union which I wished
to bring about between my friend Dubless.
is aud yourself? You have not forgotten
what passed at that time =


Il have not forgotten, uncle


That is well. forbore to press the sub.
ject because saw that it was distasteful to
| you, but none tho less has it dwelt in my
mind ever since, and cannot rest till
have brought it once more before your at
,tcntiou, and-and. in short. done all that
lies in my power to induce you to Wow it
in more favourable light. am an old
man, and my time in this world Is short
nay, my dear, it is as l tell you; l say it
calmly and seriously, When spring next
comes round. shall hardly he among you:
and my medical man. if he chose. could
tell you the Same thing. You have been
as dear to me. Freddy, as any daughter
could have been. and am naturally anx-