"For no consideration." "I don't want to be offensive, really. But remember, I am very rich. Don't you care for any things?-for travelling? for diamonds? for horses?" "Yes, very much. But I like other things better."

"So do I, unfortunately." Saying that, she turned round and looked straight at me, with her clear eyes opening wide. And of course we both knew it was Hugo Fenton we were talking about. I thought for half a minute, and then I said, "I am not engaged to him, if that is what you want to know."

"Well, I knew that. Neither am I. But then-we both want to be."

I really did not think it necessary to answer that,-she seemed so well informed.

"Look here have you considered whether you could live in this old barrack?" This was her next question.

"It will be time enough to consider that when I'm asked. And very likely I never shall be asked," I said.

"You know Hugo Fenton would never leave it, never. They are all perfectly devoted to the old place. But it's haunted to such a degree that very few people's nerves would stand it."

"Lady Fenton's have stood it a long while," I suggested. "But then she never comes upstairs."

Miss Dare smiled strangely, and turned her head over her shoulder as she had done on coming in. Just then I heard the look of the door slip, and the door opened slowly.

Only the cold air from the passage entered; at least, so I thought. I walked straight over to shut the door; then I heard steps in the corridor outside, very quiet steps. I looked out. The corridor was lighted, no one was in it; but the sound of the steps went straight on to the end. Then they seemed to turn and begin to come back. I meant to hold the door open and wait for them to pass, or else come in, but when I felt that cold breath of air again I simply had to step back into my room and shut the door. I stood with my back against it and fumbled at the look. But that girl never moved from where she was standing at the fireplace.

"Don't mind the door! The doors of these old rooms are always opening for some reason or another. Worn-out looks, I suppose.

I went back to the fireplace, She was absolutely shaking all over and smiling at the same time. I couldn't look at her. I was listening with all my senses. The walls of the room seemed to be listening, it was so deadly still. Then came a fearful sound, a sound of uneven steps and of something dragging heavily along, stopping and then going on again, right down the passage -it was not a long onetowards the staircase.

There came a dull bumpthen another...

We two caught hold of each other and simply clung together. We didn't speak. I don't know how long we waited. But we spent that

night together, both lying in my bed. We didn't speak, even then; it was too near us. While we were lying awake it came into my head that perhaps this was the very room where that Lady Fenton of long ago had stayed awake and listened.

As I thought of that I orossed myself, a thing I had never done in my life before. Then I did the same to the poor girl beside me, who gave a heavy sigh. I think we both went to sleep, and when I woke in the morning she was gone.

Now every one knows that things look quite different by morning light.

The next morning was very fine. The sun was shining on the little lake with the pretty round island in it, and robins were singing with thin oheerful voices somewhere near the window.

I dressed in a hurry, for I was rather late; and just as I was going in to breakfast I passed old James, the butler, who seemed to want to speak

to me.

James was almost a member of the family. He used to take Hugo to England and back when he was a little fellow going to his first school.

"I hope I see you well, me lady, an' sure this is a fine day, and a very fine day, so it is! but I'm thinkin' that poor Miss Dare will not be well able to enjoy it. For she's lookin' very wanshy, an' like as if she hadn't slep' a wink for a week, so she is, me lady."

James laid his head on one side and looked shrewdly at me with his little blue eyes, old and kindly. There was a sort of pity in them. I guessed that he had seen Lorna Dare

on her way from my room to her own; for James was the only person in the house who ever got up early. Irish servants can't open their eyes before eight o'clock of 8 morning.

I only smiled at him, for it would have been quite useless to try to deceive James. Then I went in to breakfast with the most cheerful air I could command.

She was there already, and I carefully did not look at her. But all the same I heard Hugo asking her to do something, or to go somewhere or other.

"Can't to-day," she said. "I'm going to do something with Lady Jane. We'll take my little car, and be no trouble to anybody.

I

She spoke in that decided tone of voice which prevents any question being asked. think they were surprised; I had a guess as to her intention. I'm sure I don't know how it came to me. As we went out into the hall after breakfast, she asked me simply

"Are you coming with me?"

And I nodded, and went to put on my hat and my coat.

Hugo brought the car round

It was a long way into that town, nearly fifty miles. We had some lunch when we got there, and then went straight to Miriam's house. She kept us waiting, of course. I suppose these palmists are like fashionable doctors, in their way. When we were finally shown into her room, I was greatly surprised, as it was a perfectly prosaic sitting-room, quite bright with the light of day; and the great Miriam herself was a small, tidy, quiet person, actually wearing a black silk apron with with a beaded border, such as a housekeeper might wear. I can't say what her age was, and there was nothing in the least remarkable about her.

I suppose I had been expect ing to see a woman in Eastern robes, sitting cross-legged on a cushion under a tent, or something of the kind: for one does associate the idea of a palmist with a gipsy, somehow. Evidently Miriam had decided on having nothing picturesque or effective in her surroundings, and perhaps that was rather clever of her.

She said, as we sat down"I never see two people together. Why have you come like this?"

"I have brought this person," Lorna explained, "rather against her will, and entirely against her judgment. But

VOL. CCVIII,-NO. MCCLVIII.

I need not describe very particularly what followed. There was nothing apparently wrong about it, and I don't know why Lady Fenton's words should have sounded so very close to my ears again, while my hand was in Miriam's cool grasp. I had certainly not wished to go near the woman; but it seemed unfair to refuse what another girl desperately wanted.. said that to myself while I waited for her to have done. When at last she let go my hand, I got up with as much relief as if I were getting out of a dentist's chair, and went to stand in the window, as I had no fancy for watching the next part of the scene too closely.

I

The room was very quietnot even a skirt rustled; for they sat so still those two, one holding the other's hand. But a horrid kind of suspense began to grow in the air, and I felt a longing for the silence to be broken. At last Miriam spoke to us.

"I have nothing to tell you of your past," she said. "It does not signify. What I have to do is to give you warning. Your fates are entangled, and you have come to me at the last moment - the very last. One of you will be fatal to

night together, both lying in my bed. We didn't speak, even then; it was too near us. While we were lying awake it came into my head that perhaps this was the very room where that Lady Fenton of long ago had stayed awake and listened.

As I thought of that I crossed myself, a thing I had never done in my life before. Then I did the same to the poor girl beside me, who gave a heavy sigh. I think we both went to sleep, and when I woke in the morning she was gone.

Now every one knows that things look quite different by morning light.

The next morning was very fine. The sun was shining on the little lake with the pretty round island in it, and robins were singing with thin cheerful voices somewhere near the window.

I dressed in a hurry, for I was rather late; and just as I was going in to breakfast I passed old James, the butler, who seemed to want to speak

to me.

James was almost a member of the family. He used to take Hugo to England and back when he was a little fellow going to his first school.

"I hope I see you well, me lady, an' sure this is a fine day, and a very fine day, so it is! but I'm thinkin' that poor Miss Dare will not be well able to enjoy it. For she's lookin' very wanshy, an' like as if she hadn't slep' a wink for a week, so she is, me lady."

James laid his head on one side and looked shrewdly at me with his little blue eyes, old and kindly. There was a sort of pity in them. I guessed that he had seen Lorna Dare

on her way from my room to her own; for James was the only person in the house who ever got up early. Irish servants can't open their eyes before eight o'clock of morning.

I only smiled at him, for it would have been quite useless to try to deceive James. Then I went in to breakfast with the most cheerful air I could command.

She was there already, and I carefully did not look at her. But all the same I heard Hugo asking her to do something, or to go somewhere or other.

"Can't to-day," she said. "I'm going to do something with Lady Jane. We'll take my little car, and be no trouble to anybody."

I

She spoke in that decided tone of voice which prevents any question being asked. think they were surprised; but I had a guess as to her intention. I'm sure I don't know how it came to me. As we went out into the hall after breakfast, she asked me simply

"Are you coming with me?"

And I nodded, and went to put on my hat and my coat.

Hugo brought the car round

-a little dark-green Rover oar, of an old-fashioned kind-and said he was waiting to be asked to go with us. I think he really wanted to, but she only smiled at him, and started without a word of explanation.

It was a long way into that town, nearly fifty miles. We had some lunch when we got there, and then went straight to Miriam's house. She kept us waiting, of course. I suppose these palmists are like fashionable doctors, in their way. When we were finally shown into her room, I was greatly surprised, as it was a perfectly prosaic sitting-room, quite bright with the light of day; and the great Miriam herself was a small, tidy, quiet person, actually wearing a black silk apron with a beaded border, such as a housekeeper might wear. I can't say what her age was, and there was nothing in the least remarkable about her.

I suppose I had been expecting to see a woman in Eastern robes, sitting oross-legged on a cushion under a tent, or something of the kind: for one does associate the idea of a palmist with a gipsy, somehow. Evidently Miriam had decided on having nothing picturesque or effective in her surroundings, and perhaps that was rather olever of her.

She said, as we sat down"I never see two people together. Why have you come like this?"

"I have brought this person," Lorna explained, "rather against her will, and entirely against her judgment. But

VOL CCVIII,-NO. MCCLVIII.

she consents that you shall read her hand, also mine; and we both will hear what you have to say, and go away together. We have our reasons."

I gave her my hand in a hurry. When you are making a fool of yourself, and know it, you like to get the thing over in the shortest possible time.

I

I need not describe very particularly what followed. There was nothing apparently wrong about it, and I don't know why Lady Fenton's words should have sounded so very close to my ears again, while my hand was in Miriam's cool grasp. had certainly not wished to go near the woman; but it seemed unfair to refuse what another girl desperately wanted.. said that to myself while I waited for her to have done. When at last she let go my hand, I got up with as much relief as if I were getting out of a dentist's chair, and went to stand in the window, as I had no fancy for watching the next part of the scene too closely.

I

The room was very quietnot even a skirt rustled; for they sat so still those two, one holding the other's hand. But a horrid kind of suspense began to grow in the air, and I felt a longing for the silence to be broken. At last Miriam spoke to us.

"I have nothing to tell you of your past," she said. "It does not signify. What I have to do is to give you warning. Your fates are entangled, and you have come to me at the last moment-the very last. One of you will be fatal to