own conduct in times past, she kept watch and ward over her, as if she had been artful and designing, instead of simple, straightforward, and unsophisticated.

An excuse was never lacking at these times, to the guarded woman of the world, for keeping her niece by her side. Maud sang sweetly, but, somehow or other, on the evenings that Julian spent at home, the piano was never opened. It was the same thing when, one morning, Captain Murray offered to teach her billiards, Mrs. Murray directly wanted her in the boudoir; and one wet afternoon, when the young people did sit down to a game of chess, Maud was so fretted by perpetual remarks, advice, and suggestions as to her play, that she lost both her temper and her game, moving so perversely on her own account, rather than follow such unwelcome counsels, that Captain Murray did not think it worth his while, again to vanquish so unworthy an adversary.

Maud liked Julian, not as a well brought up and brought out young lady of twenty-one might have done, because, forsooth, he was a good match, but for the more natural reason that all her life long she had been accustomed to the society of her brothers, so felt quite at ease with him, and had

done so ever since the first five minutes of their

acquaintance.

He was the only person, perhaps,

in all the house-not excluding the servants-of whom she did not stand at all in awe. He was always kind and courteous; he never ignored or seemed unconscious of her presence, and, in general conversation, far from excluding her, as Mrs. Murray was at some pains to do, he would turn to her, and address her, and try, as Maud fancied, to make her feel herself one of the family circle.

Captain Murray was a general favourite, and others of the sex besides Maud, were charmed by a manner which involuntarily softened, and a voice which, ever pleasantly modulated, was yet more low and gentle when he addressed a woman, even if it were only old Betty, who regularly passed twelve hours out of every twenty-four, in weeding the walks, or sweeping up leaves, and who, between the variations of the weather, and of the moods of the head gardener and Mr. Murray, very hardly earned her tenpence per diem.

Well! Betty was no wiser than the rest of us. "Ah! bless him for a fine-looking pleasant-spoken gentleman!" she would say to herself as "the Captain" went by with his cheery "good-day," and his frank open manner, which won more of the old

crone's heart, than the shillings and half-crowns he would drop into her hand, when the winter's rain was drenching her scanty garments, or the summer's sun beating down so fiercely, that the easy young soldier pitied "the poor old soul out in it, the livelong day."

CHAPTER IX.

"Quiet talk she liketh best,
In a bower of gentle looks,-
Watering flowers, or reading books.

"And her voice, it murmurs lowly,
As a silver stream may run,
Which yet feels, you feel, the sun.

"And her smile, it seems half holy,
As if drawn from thoughts more far
Than our common jestings are."

ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING.

AUD had been at Bankside more than

M

a month, when, as was his habit, Captain Murray rode over from Hounslow late one afternoon. It was a heavenly day in early June, glowing, serene, and bright, when spring shadows forth the coming summer, that, leaving his horse at the stables, Julian made his way through the shrubbery towards the house. He knew that at this hour, and

in such weather, he was pretty certain to find most of the party at the conservatory, in the flower-garden; and the sight of a well-known dogcart in the yard, combined with his knowledge of the persons principally concerned, suggested the idea, that the visitor would most probably be found there, playing at billiards with, or, at any rate, in the company of, the lady of the mansion.

He was not far wrong. On turning the corner of the old-fashioned architectural building, which, standing at the far end of the lawn, and away from the house, united the several requirements of orangery, conservatory, and billiard-room, Julian came full upon the trio, whom, as he anticipated, formed the party.

It was just as he expected, exactly what he had known a hundred times before. The chairs and sofas, which converted one part of the building into a summer drawing-room, had donned their gayest chintzes, and in the alcove, where choice flowers shed their sweetest perfume, and long hanging creepers garlanded the roof, stood a miniature Dresden tea equipage.

Mrs. Murray, however, had left her accustomed and luxurious corner; and was exerting herself so far as to walk indolently round the table, mace in