the pages. They would have made a pretty picture, those two heads. The one, fair and fragile, with long, drooping curls, and the other, as she sat perched on the arm of Rhoda's chair looking so full of life, with her dark, braided hair, and fresh, rounded cheeks. Helen, who had a keen sense of the beautiful, and who was above the weakness of envying a loveliness more youthful than her own, was looking at them admiringly, when Katie suddenly exclaimed:

'Stay! let me look at that one again-sure it's Juan-Juan Considine, or very like him. You remember him, Rhoda? The dark little fellow that'- and glancing at Mrs. Vaughan, she stopped suddenly.

'Did you ever know a person of that name?' asked Helen, endeavouring to speak with composure.

'Did I know him?' answered Katie; 'faith an' I did, for a short while, that is,' added she, looking a little confused.

'And can you tell me where he now is?

for I am much interested, at least some friends of mine are interested, in knowing what has become of him.'

'Sure, it isn't much then that I can tell you,' said Katie, who had now fully recovered herself. He was going to the West Indies, or to Australia, or somewhere else, with another man, when I saw him last. And I'm thinking he'll be never let come back, for the other fellow was as big a blackguard as you could see between this and the land's end; and an awful fool he used to make of the poor little beggar Juan? He didn't like going at all, he didn't, but somehow the other man made him.'

'Did you know anything of his history?'

'Not a great deal; but there didn't seem much he knew himself. He was half an Irishman, and his mother was a Frenchwoman; but both father and mother had been dead years before. There seemed a mystery somewhere. Any way, he'd very

little money, and so-'

'You and he said "Good-by," said Helen, finishing the sentence.

'Just that; for there's no living upon love; and besides, I hated the sight of his friend's ugly face. What was his name? The friend's, I mean? Let me think; "A—B-C.—” And she had run half through the letters of the alphabet when she cried out triumphantly, I have it. Peters it was; and a nice Saint of a Peter he'd make the schroundhiel.'

On the evening of that day, Helen wrote a few lines to Lady Thornleigh, informing her of what she had heard; for need we say that the name of Considine was one of those that Gertrude had so hurriedly inscribed in the memorandum-book at the Lion d'Or. The information was but trifling, but it was sufficient (when coupled with the intelligence imparted by Lady Thornleigh), to bring Brandreth at once to London; and he left Kelhouet, furnished with all the documents that he believed could be of service in

effecting the desired object of all their hearts, namely, the clearing of Lady Thornleigh's name from the stain that rested on

it.

Arriving in London at a late hour, his first visit was of course to his club; and there, stretched at half-length, with pipe in mouth, he enjoyed, behind the last number of 'Bell,' a few of those agreeable moments that are rendered even more pleasant by force of contrast. Voices were talking near him; but so engrossed was he in his 'Study of Life,' that they were unnoticed, till a few words touching the honour of friends dear to him forcibly arrested his attention.

The speaker was a small man, well 'set up,' and somewhat dapper-looking; gentlemanlike enough too in appearance, though verging on the 'military swell.' He was well known at several of the clubs; was great at the Ottoman,' and not very small at Pratt's.' Nature had made him what is

called 'sharp;' and necessity having whetted

the edge of her intent, Billy Wraxham (for the individual was no other than the son of poor Philip's dangerous cousin) had often found himself able to eke out a limited income by drawing upon his own wits.

He had the kind of vanity which often makes shrewd men rise; and in his case, 'not a vanity was given in vain.' In former days, the reputation of being a good pistol-shot has been known to be a man's safeguard from insults; and in like manner, and in these our times, did the dreaded venom of Billy's tongue, and the dexterity with which he was known to dart forth its poison, shield him from the punishments which he often merited. Some few liked him, for he was an amusing companion; and to the high in rank, and to those whose influence might benefit him, he could administer the dose of flattery right pleasingly: but there were more who hated him,-hated while they feared him. At games of chance and skill he was ingenious and successful; a fact