widow's weeds; and no feeling harder than that of pity found a place in her heart.

You have come,' said Gertrude, coldly and calmly, to inquire of me whether I am deserving of the name I bear.'

'Oh, no, no,' interrupted Helen; 'you are mistaken, madam; believe me that you are. Pardon me, if to your sister I expressed my meaning, and described my errand wrongly. I know you have been greatly'-and she hesitated as though unwilling to proceed.

'Greatly what? Pray continue your remarks, for I am prepared to listen to painful truths.'

Her sense of the injustice done her, roused Helen, giving her courage to say, with tolerable composure:

'You speak harshly, Lady Thornleigh; but you cannot anger me, for you were his wife, and are, like myself, in deep affliction. Do you think it is for my own pleasure that I am here? And can you imagine that I would causelessly have thrust myself into your

neighbourhood? Believe me that I am deeply sensible of my own unfitness for the office to which I have been appointed; and that could I have obtained elsewhere a clue wherewith to guide me, I would have followed it while life lasted, sooner than have shocked you with the sight of one whose presence must be so hateful to you.'

There was no servile cringing in Helen's manner, humble as were her words; and Gertrude felt that a tribute, undeserved perhaps but still a tribute worthy of acceptance, was offered to her own implied superiority.

'I presume, madam,' continued Helen, 'that you have already been made acquainted with the conditions, on the fulfilment alone, of which you can be restored to your former position, and I be permitted to return to poverty and obscurity. So much, at least, Miss Ellerton must have made known to you.'

Lady Thornleigh bent her head in token

of assent, but turned away the countenance on which deep mortification was so plainly written.

'I take God to witness,' pursued Helen, 'that in this affair I am a most unwilling agent; and that gladly would I delegate to another the task allotted to me by Sir Philip Thornleigh. Nay, madam, do not shrink from the mention of that name, for it is one that is filling both our hearts.'

'But one that shall not be named by you within my hearing,' broke in Lady Thornleigh, whose weakened nerves were ever set a quivering when her husband's name was uttered, and who now spoke in a voice choked by hysterical sobs. Mrs. Vaughan, Madam, it is time that this interview should cease. I was wrong to seek it; nor know I what strange fancy seized me when I left my home to seek you here this day.'

Helen was greatly grieved at her obduracy. 'Surely,' she said, there must be some feeling in your heart to contradict your

VOL. II.

I

words.

Had I been a woman, insolent in my success and glorying in my wealth, you would do well to scorn me. But, with my heart full even to breaking, I have come a weary journey to devise with you or yours some means of doing justice to the wronged, and that done, why the world and you will hear of me no more.'

Lady Thornleigh was at last moved; Helen saw the change of feeling, and continued.

It is far from my wish to prolong this interview; my purpose in coming here being merely to demand whether you will accept of my services, and assist me to promote the attainment of Sir Philip's wishes.'

'I cannot,' faltered Gertrude.

You cannot! Oh! Lady Thornleigh, in mercy to yourself and to your children, reflect deeply ere you do that which may so materially affect THEIR fortunes, while it must leave unsatisfied the last wish of him who is no more. Pardon me for what may seem officious in this entreaty; but I have known

the bitterness of the world's contempt, and

dread it for those that Philip loved so well.'

And have you no doubt of my truth, no fears that even if I would, I could not clear myself?'

Instead of replying, Helen could only ejaculate the words, 'Poor Philip!' and then the tears filled her eyes.

Gertrude was fairly conquered by this touching evidence of genuine feeling; for no one could have spoken those two regretful words as that grieved woman had, were the heart not true and the purposes pure and unselfish.

Forgive me,' said the remorseful lady, forgive me for my jealous and unworthy words. I was angry. It seemed so bitter to find one employed to pronounce upon my conduct and measure out my punishment-'

'And that one such a thing as I am,' said Helen, meekly. Well can I understand how hard it is to bear. But you forgive him