that galled you so bitterly, when Anna Talmash, in her envy of your beauty, levelled sarcasms at you and yours?'

'Have I forgotten it? No, the blow was too hard, and was felt the more acutely, because (invulnerable as she seemed) I was powerless to return it.'

'Poor child!' said Edward, sadly; 'the mischief was begun then; yes, from that hour I date it all.'

"True-most true,' mused Helen; and it was my first real fault (if fault it can be called) to show the deep love in my heart that day. Often and often had we talked and laughed together, happily and carelessly; for you know, Eddy, how agreeable he is, and how far above other men in every way.'

Edward winced a little at this unqualified assertion, but he bore his mental torture as bravely as though he had been a woman.

'And then,' continued she (unmindful of the pain she had inflicted), it is so hard to bear rudeness, especially from those who once

liked me and were kind to me.

Edward, what can have changed the Talmashes so greatly, for they seem to hate me now? If you had but known them when their poor young brother lived! Dear little Ernest! he had such a beautiful face, with a colour like a crimson rose, and eyes so large and loving; but the little darling died, for he was too pure and good for earth, and now he is an angel in heaven, watching-at least he said he would-for the time when I should join him there; but that will never be-never;' and she sighed dejectedly.

'My darling Nellie'

But the girl hastily interrupted him, for dreading her cousin's return to the topic of Captain Thornleigh's attentions, she strove to prolong the momentary respite by reverting to other themes, and to distant memories of the past.

'How absurd,' she continued, 'to talk of all this now; but I meant to say that the Talmashes were fond enough of me three

years ago, and greatly pleased that I should spend so much of my time by the side of the suffering child, reading to him, and drawing figures of strange monsters with my childish fingers; and now they hate me, and seem as much afraid of coming in contact with my unfortunate person, as though I carried about with me as many fevers as my father gives physic for. What is the harm of being a doctor, Eddy? A doctor is a gentleman, at least I am sure my father is; and yet every one makes a difference between us and other people.'

'What sort of difference, Nellie, and who makes it?'

'Oh, every one, almost. But never mind; I only care just at the moment; afterwards I know it is not worth thinking about, but I was mortified; there were so many that heard the remarks made by that odious girl and then every one thinks so much of Captain Thornleigh, and the temptation was great, to show that he, at least, did not despise me.

Since that day I have seen him much more frequently; and, indeed, Eddy, I have grown to like him,-I mean, to love him very much ;' and a tear fell on the kind hand that had taken hers, and was pressing it fondly.

'My poor little cousin,' he said, gently; 'with my whole heart I feel for you; but believe me that the more you love this man, the more urgent is the necessity for your parting from him for ever. You say yourself that he entertains no thought of marriage, and—'

'Nay, dear Edward,' said Helen imperatively, 'you don't know what you are talking about.'

Not know what I am talking about! not know that marriage is the only fitting reparation for the injury done to a woman's reputation, the only proper end of

'Improper beginnings,' said Helen, laughing. My dear Eddy, you are everything that is wise, virtuous, and discreet, and I am going to shock you beyond measure; but the real fact is, that I consider the ceremony of

marriage as one of the most absurd inventions ever inflicted on human beings by mortal men.'

My dear Helen-' began Edward; but his astonishment was too great for words or argu

ment.

'Yes, I do think it an absurdity,' continued she eagerly. In the first place I deny the right of man to make impossible laws, and then declare that God will punish with everlasting burning, the man who breaks one jot or tittle of them!'

'But what are the impossible laws contained in the marriage service of the Church?' asked Edward, humouring what he mentally termed the folly of her fancy.

'All, or at least almost all, that they contain,' answered Helen. In the first place, do we not swear to love always and to the end, when to do so is too often clearly and simply out of our power? Is human love the growth of human will? Certainly not, and as certainly is it only as words of course, that we vow to "honour and to obey " the man,