Ellerton's then husband, was a millionaire; and, shod with gold, vice finds it easy enough to ride down the prejudices of a pack of scandal-mongers; moreover, Mrs. Ellerton, to do her justice, gave no great cause for evil tongues to bay at her, being cold and vain, with a dear love for what she called 'position,' and so could venture to take fire in her hand (as cold natures can), and remain unscathed.

As for the lad himself, his soft-skinned vanity (for where is the folly or vice in which that element of evil is not found?) was pleasantly flattered by the idea, that the world thought him wickeder than he was; and (rejoicing more in his supposed iniquity than he possibly might have done, had there been truth in the libel) he took his first lesson in the hornbook of human passions.

But the time came when he grew tired of his daily governess, and though between them there had been naught beyond the Platonic affection miscalled 'pure,' he was

as wearied as though they had deserved the imputation which many-tongued rumour had cast upon them. That the boy showed this weariness, and showed it unreservedly, was an offence that Mrs. Ellerton could not pardon, and nourishing that anger in a breast devoid of any warmer and more genial feelings, the evil plant (like an unwholesome fungus) grew and grew, till the bad passion turned to hate. She had one daughter, who was about thirteen, and was away at school during the time of the 'little affair' with Philip; and many a year had passed since they two had talked of love under the chestnut trees; and the still fair woman was for a second time a widow, with another little girl to tax her maternal solicitude, when she and Philip met in that narrow lane, while a woman (of what Mrs. Ellerton called the worst description) was a witness of their chance rencounter.

At that period Gertrude Mainwaring had seen some five-and-twenty summers, several

of which had of late years been passed abroad with a kind but eccentric female relation, who had generously relieved Mrs. Ellerton from the charge of the tall girl, whose rapid march towards womanhood told tales of her own advancing years.

But enough of Gertrude for the presentenough of the prosperous and successful; for we must follow Helen's fortunes, and relate the Decline and Fall of her Woman's Empire.

Whether it was that the contempt expressed in the faces of his former friends, urged him to the effort of changing their scorn into a more agreeable feeling towards himself, or whether he was warmed into admiration at the sight of newer and therefore more piquant charms, certain it is, that from the date of that inauspicious meeting, Philip Thornleigh found himself often in the society of the ladies of Mainwaring Hall. He was frequently, too, at the Abbey, for there also was one to whom his presence was

by no means a matter of indifference. Mrs. Wraxham-the cousin of whom mention has already been made-was a great favourite of Sir Edgar's; for she could not only lay claim to the high merit of being a relation, but she was also duly impressed with the honour which that claim conferred upon her. She had had designs upon Philip from her earliest infancy, and had pursued those designs with a tact and perseverance worthy of a better cause. At a later period, despairing of success, she had-wisely enough, as was afterwards proved-married a rich and elderly widower, whose remaining term of life she certainly did not render happy; but Mr. Wraxham died at the age of seventy, leaving her with one child, and a fortune in railway shares, which might, or might not, turn his widow into what the world calls a catch.'

Mrs. Wraxham was fond of money, but she was fonder still of rank and title, a predilection which may partly be accounted for by the fact, that in the days of her young

ladyhood, her very particular friend was fortunate enough to make an impression on a peer of the realm; thus raising her own. dignity, while the evil-working passion of envy fermented in the breast of her less fortunate friend.

This sole remaining female scion of the house of Thornleigh was not altogether unattractive in appearance; and joined to a certain amount of freshness and prettiness, she had the art, while making men pleased with themselves, of inducing them also to be charmed with her. She was a cunning rather than a clever woman; endowed, however, with the quality of watchfulness, for she was never taken by surprise; also with the gift of prudence, for the order of her retreats was as remarkable as the courage she displayed in her advances.

To marry her cousin Philip-to be addressed as "My lady," and to reign as sovereign mistress at Thornleigh, was the unceasing object of Mrs. Wraxham's ambition;