his friend, speaking emphatically and low, with his teeth firmly pressed together. "It's perfectly in your power to banter me now, you immeasurably happy man!"

"Explain yourself," urged the other, with the utmost wonderment expressed on his

countenance.

This appeal, and the unmistakable look of mystery depicted on the speaker's face, reassured Grantley, who, after an apparent struggle with himself, asked, "Then you don't love her, Lockwood?"

"Love whom, in the name of all that's marvellous? What can have put into that remarkable head of yours the bare idea that a cold, impassive fellow like me is capable of distressing himself so much as to love anybody in the sense you mean?"

"Then give me your hand on it, old boy," answered his friend. I believe you. It's all moonshine, this notion of mine as to Madeline

and

you. But what is to become of me? I am to read moderately hard to please my

mother; I am to weigh well the pros and cons of all the professions, to please my father. I am, in short, to be a model of academical diligence; a very paragon of undergraduates, and to do all this while that dear girl's image lives in my memory; and how can I possibly tell I may have her at last, after

all ?"

Walter Lockwood turned away and smiled. He had so often witnessed similar exhibitions of eccentricity in his friend that he had become quite an adept in humouring and appeasing him. Fancying that under the sobering influence of the morning light, this wild-fire dance of the furies within his brain would be calmed, he thwarted him as little as possible, whispering all kinds of pleasant hopes, under whose influence the fever became gradually allayed; until, at last, he felt he might safely retire to his own room for the night.

Edward Grantley was eminently a creature of fits and starts; precipitate and headstrong. With a decided bias in favour of everything

good and honourable, his life-chapters were full of instances in which he exhibited wondrous lack of self-control. It is marvellous that a vessel so light in ballast was not dashed against many a destructive shoal and quicksand.

The next morning was overcast, leadencoloured and cheerless. Edward seemed to be oppressed by some great weight, and spoke little in the family circle; but when, as the day wore on, Lockwood and he were again together, the latter saw in his conversation no trace of his past night's stormy ebullition, save that he detected in it an apparent indisposition to refer to that particular colloquy. But as the appointed time for departure drew nearer, the more silent and reserved he became. All noticed it, but he answered their questions with affected surprise or evasive replies. The season, however, of explanation came. It happened one day that an agricultural meeting in the neighbourhood attracted away the rector, the squire and Walter Lock

wood. His mother and sister having their time more than usually occupied in preparations for his leaving home, Grantley, under pretext of whiling away an idle hour, determined to call on Aunt Busby. Now anyone well acquainted with that lady's habits must infallibly have concluded either that his affectionate interest in his venerable friend had betrayed him into oblivion of her peculiar predilections, or that his pretext was only one intended to conceal the real motive for his visit. Ushered into the drawing room, he found himself in the society of Madeline alone, who, as she came forward to give him her hand, remarked that "She supposed him to be one of those individuals who regard the fattening of cattle and poultry as a study beneath his notice, and derogatory to the nature of the genus man."

"No. Mr. Busby and my father seem to be rather addicted to that kind of thing, and, for once, Lockwood has caught the infection; but I am much happier here." His last

words were uttered with so much more emphasis than was usual with him in addressing Madeline, that the young lady looked for a moment just a little confused.

"I fear," she said, "you will find us dull, prosy companions to-night. I thought you must have been aware of my aunt's noted habit of going to sleep about this time."

"Yes; but I suppose you don't meditate taking such a course, or, if you do, suffer me to be one of your worshipful company of gapers; the more the merrier you know."

Madeline laughed, and was about to express her pleasure that he seemed to have recovered his spirits again, when a spirit of maidenly reserve checked her in her purpose. "Stay a moment," she suddenly said. "I will call my aunt."

"By all means; but will you accept of my companionship while our worthy relation visits the shadowy realm of Morpheus ?" He had detained her in the room as he spoke, by holding her hand, which he fancied was a little tremulous as it lay within his own.