"Do. The more you know the Marquis the more you'll like him. He is a capital fellow, and a first-rate shot."

"What a recommendation! But he is so ugly. Are you going to have him at Mount Trafford ?"

66

Yes; only till the twenty-seventh or twenty-eighth, when the Llanelwy party assemble."

Grantham seemed very huge and empty when they were all gone. Mr. Bolton bade Maggie quite a tender farewell, somewhat to Miss Grantham's amusement:

"You have really helped me over what might otherwise have been very uncomfortable hours," he said to her. "When you have written that novel you have on hand, and Miss Grantham has no more work for you, pray come to me. I begin to think I must want a secretary."

"I shall keep you to your word," returned Maggie, smiling, and thinking she might do worse than be companion to the surly, gouty old man.

"Come, come, no tampering with my adherents!" cried Miss Grantham, more genially than she had spoken for some time. "At present Miss Grey is mine, and she had better be off with an old love before she is on with a new."

After exchanging very cordial adieux with his hostess and a few private parting words, Mr. Bolton was packed in furs and railway rugs, and sped away to town.

"Come into the study with me," said Miss Grantham to Maggie, who, feeling that the watched-for opportunity was come, could scarcely nerve herself to the task of approaching so difficult a subject as Miss Grantham's variability of manner, and nervously alive to every look and tone, let the minutes slip by, not knowing how to begin. After opening and looking at a pile of circulars, petitions, applications, &c., Miss Grantham said, rather abruptly, "I am going into Wales, to the Marchioness of Hillshire's, for a week or ten days, about the twenty-ninth, and Aunt Dormer wants to go to town to see the dentist or the doctor. Would you like to go with her, and see your friends? I do not think I shall return here; it is so doleful and grim, so

"Pray do not say I am to leave you," interrupted Maggie, unable to control her fears.

'No, I do not," said Miss Grantham smiling, and looking sharply at her companion. "You would not like then to go?"

66

Certainly not, unless I thought you really did not want me, or that I had displeased you; and I have feared often lately that I had. You are changed to me."

"I do not think I am."

"Yes, dear Miss Grantham. There is not a tone of your voice or a

glance of your eye that does not say so-at times. Do tell me why? I know I do not deserve your displeasure."

66

My dear Miss Grey, I do not intend to show any difference; but people are not always in the same spirits, or "

The heiress paused, struck with the pained sad expression that came over Maggie's face as she felt that her earnest effort after a right understanding was being brushed aside, and a sense of the singular loneliness and dependence of her little secretary brought a sudden wave of kindliness over her heart.

"There then," she exclaimed, "if you will have it, I am a little vexed with you for a bit of imprudence, so unlike your usual modest quiet with its dash of pride.”

"What can I have done ?" asked Maggie, bewildered.

"You must have known it did not look well to drive about Paris alone with Mr. Trafford," continued Miss Grantham.

"But I did not," cried Maggie.

"Not!" echoed Miss Grantham. "Not once ?"

Yes, once," replied Maggie, turning pale at the idea of this sacred secret having been revealed to the lady of Grantham, and then seeing her way clearly went on: "I will tell you all about it. Mrs. Berry was away at Fontainebleau, and I had gone out, intending to spend the evening with some friends of hers. They were not at home, and when I returned I found the servant had taken advantage of my absence to go out too; had locked the rooms and taken the keys. I happened to meet Mr. Trafford and told him my position, for I was quite distressed. He very kindly proposed to drive me as far as the Lake, in the Bois de Boulogne. I did not hesitate to go with him. A drive was a rare treat for me, and when I returned the servant had come back."

'And you never went anywhere else with him ?"

"Never-never," and Maggie looked straight into Miss Grantham's

eyes.

"I am sure you thought no harm," said she kindly; "but Mr. Trafford ought to have known better.

"Surely there was nothing wrong in so very simple a proceeding?" "No-nothing wrong, but imprudent; and it was rather curious Geoffrey taking that trouble. Then you see, a man of his position. giving up his engagements, for of course he had engagements-you say it was evening?-to drive with you, had rather a queer look. He ought to have known better."

"I quite understand the great difference between us," said Maggie, the colour coming back to her cheeks with a crimson flush as the iron entered deep into her soul, while Miss Grantham calmly pointed out that any attention from Trafford-Trafford who understood her as no one else did, little as he spoke to her, must be looked upon as

doubtful, if not degrading. "I quite understand the difference, and it was because Mr. Trafford always spoke to me like a kindly friend, and never deviated into any other tone, that I went with him so unhesitatingly."

"Then," cried Miss Grantham, her faith in Maggie returning, "he never made love to you?"

"He never presumed to do so," cried Maggie, the native fire and pride latent in her soft nature lighting up her eyes; "and, indeed," returning to her ordinary manner, "I am sure he never was inclined."

"You are a proud puss," returned the other; "to talk of Geoffrey Trafford presuming to make love to you!"

"Yes, Miss Grantham, I have my own pride-which you can afford to leave me; for the same superiority, which makes it almost impossible for a man of his rank to think of a girl like me as a wife, entitles me to resent the faintest approach to love-making-though I need not reject kindly civility, frankly offered."

"Well said! You are what Torchester would call a brick! You have quite removed my faint disapprobation. I see you can be trusted." "But," thought the heiress, "I do not quite understand Master Geoff. "Now," she continued aloud, " put all this out of your head. I am quite glad you forced me to explain myself. I could not bear to feel a shade of discomfort towards you. Now, tell me, did you ever see Madame de Beaumanoir in Paris ?" "Yes, once, at a great ball to which Mrs. Berry took me. Trafford was with her, and I asked Lord Torchester who she was,but he did not observe her-so I was not sure, who she was, until I saw her here last week."

Mr.

Miss Grantham mused a while in silence, she could not quite understand it; but at all events, she would put full faith in Maggie Grey, and as for Madame de Beaumanoir, she was a mischief-maker pur et simple-who only wanted to make bad blood between her and Geoffrey, because she was in love with him herself-odious, unprincipled creature!

"Then, I suppose, after rescuing Torchester from Mrs. Berry's gambling friends, Mr. Trafford stayed on in Paris to enjoy the society of Madame La Marquise ?"

"Perhaps so. He certainly did not leave with Lord Torchester." "Well, enough of all this-give me my portfolio. While you answer those letters I will try and sketch Madame de Beaumanoir, and leave some work for you when I go to Llanelwy; by-the-by, I was going to say, when we digressed into this explanation, that if you like to go up to town with Lady Dormer, and see your friends, you may as well do so, for I think I shall go somewhere till after Easter; it would be intolerable to stay here."

So it was settled after a little more discussion, that Maggie should accompany Lady Dormer to town, and if convenient, pay a visit to her uncle's family. While in the meantime, Miss Grantham should decide where she would pass the weeks which intervened before Easter, and arrangements should be made for all to meet after she had paid her visit to the Hillshires. Thus, confidence and amity being restored, the days passed over happily enough, and Miss Grantham, with Maggie's assistance, devised sundry toilettes suited to mourning, and yet striking in effect.

"You know," said Miss Grantham, as Maggie arranged the music the same evening, in order to have a good practice, "I want to look passable, for Sir Hugh Erskine is to be at Llanelwy."

"Is he? and do you know him? Who is he?"

"Oh! he is everything-irresistible-the greatest judge of beauty, the most eccentric, fastidious man in England, and awfully fast!" "What a formidable personage!"

"Yes. I should rather like to have the rejecting of such a paladin."

Perhaps he might persuade you to accept him; and I should think he would make a very undesirable husband."

My dear, you are a mentor and a secretary all in one! No, not the smallest chance of my saying yes, to any one who will ask me."

When Maggie was alone, and at the convenient period when the candle is out, and conscience, rousing herself for a hunt, uncarts some bogie of "ten tynes," to chase through all the dells and glades of memory and self-accusation, the review of her conversation with Miss Grantham was anything but satisfactory.

First, although she had stated nothing but the truth, it was anything but the whole truth. If Miss Grantham thought that to drive alone with Mr. Trafford was an outrage on propriety, what would she say to his visits? What would she say to that delightful téte-à-tête dinner, which Maggie could not bring herself to regret? But the more she reflected on her patroness's remarks, the more puzzled she felt by Trafford's conduct. As Miss Grantham said, his taking even so much trouble on her account was curious, and to give up an engagement for her, as it was probable he had, was quite extraordinary. It was very easy to say, "Put it all out of your head," but such a subject would not be banished, and the great mystery of how Miss Grantham came to know of her reprehensible expedition, this was the most painful bit of it all.

After profound cogitations, she could only conclude that in the course of the confidential walk and talk which she had enjoyed with Mr. Trafford on the day before he left, he must have inadvertently mentioned it. That he did so intentionally, she never for a moment believed. That he should have so far forgotten his interest in herself

to do so, was bitter enough; and with the proneness to self-torture which is so common in sensitive minds, she recalled the delicate but unmistakable warning he had given her, to avoid letting even Rosalie know where she had been, on that memorable evening, and now, it was of so little importance, that he could mention it casually; for he must have done so either to Miss Grantham or Madame de Beaumanoir, and this latter would have been even a more unpardonable offence in her eyes! Whatever he might once have thought of her, she could not now possess the least bit of sacredness in his eyes; but the exact means by which Miss Grantham had arrived at that disturbing morsel of information must remain a mystery. She could never approach the subject again. Pride, self-respect, regard to her kind employer, all imperatively demanded that she should "put it out of her head," and she determined to do so. Trafford could never be quite the same Trafford to her again, now that the secret between them was no longer a secret.

The magnitude of Miss Grantham's-or rather her maid's and milliner's-preparations for a visit of ten days somewhat surprised our inexperienced heroine; and she said as much to her indulgent patroness.

"My dear girl, you would not have me appear every day in the same dress? And then, you know, it is my début as 'Miss Grantham,' in anything like general society. Besides, I have to complete the conquest of little Alf St. Lawrence and utterly subjugate Sir Hugh Erskine, were it only to show Geoff Trafford that other men have eyes, if he has not. I wonder has he gone to Paris with Madame de Beaumanoir ! I have heard nothing from him; nor has Torchester, who writes that Geoff has not yet turned up at Mount Trafford."

"Oh! I do not suppose he could have gone to Paris.”

"Heaven knows; I shall never calculate on Geoff's proceedings again," returned Miss Grantham, carelessly; but her words had a painful significance to Maggie, who rejoiced that she was going among new scenes and new people, and thus the current of her thoughts would doubtless be diverted into different channels.

Maggie never knew the luxury of travelling en grande dame until she accompanied Lady Dormer to London. The civility of station masters, the delicate attentions of guards, extended to the neighbourhood of the great metropolis. And then the comfort of stepping at once into a cosy brougham, and driving straight away to one's dressingroom and dinner, instead of shivering and struggling for luggage amid "the crushing crowd, doomed to inflict or bear," which penance may be safely left to the vicarious offices of intelligent servants. Wealth has its merits, certes!

It

The great house in P-Square was but very partially unhollanded for the reception of Lady Dormer and the secretary. looked rather gruesome, Maggie thought, as they drove up. However,