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But after they were all gone he drew Kathleen both go; only--may we be married a week earlier, into his arms and said softly:

then per “My darling, do you think I do not know what "Oh, Mark !" she exclaimed blushingly. you are giving up for my sake?''.

“Never mind the dresses, love. I wish you She looked up with a bright smile.

could be married in that blue dress you wore that As if it could be anything but home where day we went to the Ridge. Say it shall be the you are, Mark! I love England already, because twenty-fourth, sweet." it is your country, dear. But, Mark”—putting And he had his own way. So it came to pass both arms about his neck and looking wistfully that they were married and went down to Quinti. into his face-"one thing I do want very much, cook together in just one year from the day when and that is to go down to dear old Quinticook they said good-bye to one another under the lilacs before I go away."

at Content Cottage. You shall, dear," he answered. “We will!


She wakes in golden flowers
Trembling lo greet the sun.

Earth hides her secrets deep
Down where the small seed lies,
Hid from the air and skies
Where first it sank to sleep.
To grow, to blossom, and to die-
Ah ! who shall know her hidden alchemy?

Quick stirs the inner strife,
Strong grow the powers of life,
Forth from earth's mother breast,
From her dark homes of rest,
Forth as an essence rare
Eager to meet the air
Growth's very being, seen
Here, in this tenderest green.

What means this being new,
Sweet pain she never knew
Down in the quiet earth
Ere hope had come to birth ?
Golden he shines above,
Love wakes, and born of love
All her sweet flowers unfold
In rays of burning gold.
Life, then, means naught but this
Trembling to wait his kiss,
Wake to emotion ?
There where he glows she turns
All her gold flowers, and burns
With her devotion.
Ah! but when day is done ?
When he is gone, her sun,
King of her world and lover ?
Low droops the faithful head
Where the brown earth is spread
Waiting once more to cover
Dead hopes and blossoms over.

Drawn by the light above,
Upward the life must move;
Touched by the outward life
Kindles anew the strife,
Light seeks the dark's domain,
Draws thence with quickening pain
New store of substance rare,
Back through each tingling vein
Thrusts the new life again-
Beauty unfolds in air.

So grows earth's changeling child,
By light and air beguiled
Out of her dreamless rest
Safe in the mother breast.
Impulses come to her,
New hopes without a name
Touch every leaf, and stir
Colorless sap to flame;
Quick through her pulses run
Love's hidden mystic powers,

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BY THE AUTHOR OF “The First Violin."

CHAPTER XX.—“MY COUSIN JUDITH !" deep flush which overspread Mrs. Conisbrough's BERNARD did not return to Scar Foot that night. | face every time that Bernard's name was menHe had left word with Mrs. Aveson that he might tioned, and her own desire to “depart hence and not do so. He remained all night at Mr. Whaley's, be no more seen” grew stronger every hour. Late at Yoresett, discussing business matters with him. in the afternoon of Tuesday, Mrs. Conisbrough, Judith, after her return, sat up-stairs with her tired of even pretending to listen to the book mother, and wondered what made her feel so which Judith had been reading to her, advised wretched—what caused the sensation of fierce the latter to take a walk, adding that she wished desolation in her heart. Mrs. Conisbrough was to be alone, and thought she could go to sleep if quickly recovering, and had begun to chat, though she were left. Judith complied. She put on her scarcely cheerfully. Her conversation was hardly hat and went out into the garden. Once there, of a bracing or inspiriting nature, and the blow the recollection came to her mind, that to-morrow dealt by the old man's will was still felt almost in she was leaving Scar Foot—that after to-morrow its full force. Likewise, she was a woman much it would not be possible for her to return here : given to wondering what was to become of them she took counsel with herself, and advised herself all.

to take her farewell now, and once for all, of the But she no longer raged against Aglionby, and dear familiar things which must henceforth be Judith did not know whether to be relieved or strange to her. Fate was kind, in so far as it uneasy at the change.

allowed her to part on friendly terms from BerOn Tuesday morning Dr. Lowther called, and nard Aglionby, but that was all she could expect. pronounced Mrs. Conisbrough quite fit to go If, for the future, she were enabled to stay somehome on the following day, as arranged; he added where in shelter and obscurity, and to keep silence, that she might go down-stairs that day, if she what more could be wanted ? “ By me, and such chose. Judith trembled lest she should decide to as me, nothing,” she said inwardly, and with do so, but she did not. She either could not or some bitterness. would not face Bernard Aglionby, and, in him, 1 In addition to this feeling, she was wearied of her fate. So Judith said to herself, trying to find the house, of the solitude, and the confinement. reasons for her mother's conduct, and striving, Despite her grief and her foreboding, she being, too, to still the fears which had sprung up in her if not “a perfect woman," at least a “noblyown breast, to take no heed of the sickening planned" one, felt strength and vigor in every qualms of terror which had attacked her at inter- limb, and a desire for exercise and expansion, vals ever since she had seen her mother on the which would not let her rest. She wandered all morning of the reading of the will-her expres round the old garden, gathered a spray from the sion, and the sudden failing of her voice; her now flowerless “rose without thorns," which cowering down; the shudder with which she had flourished in one corner of it, sat for a minute or shrunk away from Bernard's direct gaze. That two in the alcove, and gazed at the prospect on incident had marked the first stage of her terrors; the other side with a mournful satisfaction, and the second had been reached when her mother then, finding that it was still early, wandered had opened her eyes, and spoken her incoherent down to the lake-side, to the little landing place, wurds about “Bernarda," and what Bernarda had where the boat with the grass-green sides, and said. The third and worst phase of her secret with the name “ Delphine" painted on it, was fear had been entered upon when Aglionby moored. had solemnly assured her that, save his grand- “I should like a last row on the lake dearly," father, he had never possessed a rich relation, on thought Judith, and quickly enough followed the either father's or mother's side. She had pondered other thought, “and why not?" So thought, so upon it all till her heart was sick. She saw the decided. She went to the little shed where the

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oars were kept, seized a pair, and sprang into the This question called up a smile to Judith's face, boat, unchained it from its moorings, and with a and she asked, leaning on her oars : strong, practiced stroke or two, was soon in deep “And why not, pray?". water. It gave her a sensation of joy, to be once It is dangerous. And you are alone, and a more here, on the bosom of this sweet and glistening Shennamere. She pulled slowly, and with Judith laughed outright. “Shennamere danmany pauses; stopping every now and then to let gerous ! That shows how little you know about her boat float, and to enjoy the exquisite panorama it. I have rowed up and down it since I was a of hills surrounding the lake, and of the long, low child; indeed, any child could do it." front of Scar Foot, in its gardens. A mist rushed "Could it? I wish you would let me try, across her eyes and a sob rose to her throat as then." she beheld it.

“Would you like it, really?" asked Judith, in "Ah," thought Judith, "and this is what will some surprise. keep rising up in my memory at all times, and in “There is nothing I should like better, if you all seasons, good or bad. Well, it must be, I will let me." suppose. Shennamere, good-bye !"

“Then see! I will row up to the shore, and She had rowed all across the lake, a mile, per- you can get in and pull me back if you will, for I haps, and was almost at the opposite shore, beneath begin to feel my arms tired. It is some time the village of Busk. There was a gorgeous Oc- since I have rowed, now." tober sunset, flaming all across the heavens, and | This was easily managed. He took her place, casting over everything a weird, beautiful light and she took the tiller-cords, sitting opposite to and glamor, and at the same time the dusk was him. It was not until after this arrangement had creeping on, as it does in October, following been made, and they were rowing back in a quickly on the skirts of the sunset.

leisurely manner, toward Scar Foot, that Judith She skirted along by the shore, thinking, “I began to feel a little wonder as to how it had all must turn back," and feeling strangely unwilling happened-how Bernard came to be in the boat to do so. She looked at the grassy fringe at the with her, rowing her home. He was very quiet, edge of the lake, which in summer was always a she noticed, almost subdued, and he looked somewaste of the fair yellow iris; one of the sweetest what tired. His eyes rested upon her every now flowers that blow, to her thinking and to mine. and then with a speculative, half-absent expresShe heard the twittering of some ousels, and other sion, and he was silent, till at last she said: water-birds. She heard the shrill voice of a | “How came you on the Lancashire road, Mr. young woman on the road, singing a song. She | Aglionby, and on foot? I thought you would be raised her eyes to look for the young woman, driving back from Yoresett." wondering whether it were any acquaintance of “I did drive as far as the top of the hill above hers, and before her glance had time to wander the bridge, and then I got out to walk round this far enough, it rested, astonished, upon the figure way. You must know that I find a pleasure which of Bernard Aglionby, whose presence on that I cannot express, in simply wandering about here, road, and on foot, was a mystery to her, since his and looking at the views. It is perfectly delightlui. way to Scar Foot lay on the other side of the lake. But I might say, how came you to be at this side

But he was standing there, had stopped in his of the lake, alone and at sunset ?" walk, evidently, so that she knew not from which “That is nothing surprising, for me. We are direction he came, and was now lifting his hat to leaving to-morrow, after which we shall have done her.

with Scar Foot forever. I have been bidding “Good-afternoon !" cried Judith quickly, and good-bye to it all. The house, the garden, the surprised to feel her cheeks grow hot.

lake, everything." Good-afternoon,” he responded, coming down That “everything" came out with an energy to the water's edge, and looking, as usual, very which smacked of anything but resignation pure earnest.

and simple. “You are not rowing about here all alone?''. Bidding good-bye? Ah, I must have seemed he added, in some astonishment,

a bold, insolent intruder, at such a moment. I

wonder you condescended to speak to me. I apparently floatingly receding from before them, wonder you did not instantly turn away, and row while the boat darted onward. A month ago back again, with all speed. Instead of which I this young man had been an obscure salesman in am here with you."

an Irkford warehouse, and she, Judith ConisJudith did not reply, though their eyes met, brough, had been the supposed co-heiress, with and her lips parted. It was a jest, but a jest her sisters, of all John Aglionby's lands and which she found it impossible to answer. Ag- money: now the obscure salesman was in full lionby also perhaps judged it best to say nothing possession of both the lands and the money, more. Yet both hearts swelled. Though they while from her, being poor, had been taken even maintained silence, both felt that there was more that she had, and more had yet to go. She felt to be said. Both knew, as they glided on in the no resentment toward Aglionby, absolutely none: sharp evening air, in the weird light of the sunset, for herself she experienced a dull sensation of that this was not the end : other things had yet to pain ; a shrinking from the years to come of happen. Some of the sunset glow had already loneliness, neglect, and struggle. She pictured faded, perhaps it had sunk with its warmth and the future, as she glided on in the present. He, fire into their hearts, which were hot; the-sky had as soon as he had settled things to his pleasure, taken a more pallid hue. At the foot of the lake, would get married to that tall, fair girl with whom Addlebrough rose, bleak and forbidding ; Judith she had seen him. They would live at Scar Foot, leaned back, and looked at it, and saw how cold or wherever else it list them to live; they would it was, but while she knew the chillness of it, she be happy with one another; would rejoice in was all the time intensely, feverishly conscious of their possessions, and enjoy life side by side :Aglionby's proximity to herself. Now and again, while she-bah! she impatiently told herself-of for a second at a time, her eyes were drawn irre. what use to repine about it? That only made sistibly to his figure. How rapidly had her feel. one look foolish. It was so, and that was all ings toward him been modified ! On the first day about it. The sins of the fathers should be reshe had seen him, he had struck her as an enthu lentlessly and unsparingly visited upon the chilsiastic provincial politician: he had been no more dren. He, her present companion, had said so, a real person to her than if she had never seen and she attached an altogether unreasonable imhim. Next she had beheld him walking behind portance to his words. He had held that creed Mr. Whaley into the parlor at Scar Foot; had in the days of his adversity and poverty, that seen the cool uncompromising curve of his lips, creed of “no forgiveness.” If it had supported the proud, cold glance in his eyes. Then, he had him, why not her also ? True, he was a man, suddenly become the master, the possessor, wielding and she was a woman; and all men, save the power undisputed and indisputable over what she most unhappy and unfortunate of all, were taught had always considered her own, not graspingly, and expected to work. She had only been forced but from habit and association. She had for some to wait. Perhaps, if he had not had to work, time feared and distrusted his hardness, but and been compelled to forget himself and his gradually yet quickly those feelings had changed, wrongs in toil, he might have proved a harder till now, without understanding how, she had got adversary now than he was. to feel a deep admiration for and delight in his The boat glided alongside the landing place. dark, keen face; full of strength, full of resolution | He sprang up, jumped upon the boards, and and pride; it was all softened at the present handed her out. moment, and to her there seemed a beauty not to “It is nearly dark,” he observed, and his be described in its sombre tints, and in the out- voice, though low, was deep and full, as a voice line expressive of such decision and firmness, a is wont to be, when deep thoughts or real emotion firmness which had just now lost the old sneering has lately stirred the mind. “We will send out vivacity of eye and lip.

to have the things put away." He walked beside It all seemed too unstable to be believed in. her up the grassy path, as silent as she was, and Would it ever end? Gliding onward, to the her heart was full. Was it not for the last time? accompaniment of a rhythmic splash of the oars, As he held the wicket open for her, and then foland ripple of the water, with the mountains lowed her up the garden, he said :

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" Miss Conisbrough, I have a favor to ask of Yet (he thought, as he stood by the window),

whether he had done it easily or not, it had been “A favor, what is it?"

done. He had asked her, and she had consented. “Only a trife," said Aglionby. “It is that you What else would she do for him, he wondered, if will sing me a song to-night-one particular he asked her. Then came a poignant, regretful song.”

wish that he had asked her for something else. “Sing you a song !" ejaculated Judith, amazed. In reflecting upon the little scene which was just And the request, considering the terms on which over, he felt a keen, pungent pleasure, as he rethey stood, was certainly a calm one.

membered her look of surprise, and seemed to see “Yes, the song I overheard you singing on how she gradually yielded to him, with a certain Sunday night, Goden Abend, Gode Nacht!' I unbending of her dignity, which he found indewant to hear it again."

scribably and perilously fascinating. They now stood in the porch, and as Judith “I wish I had asked her for something else!" hesitated, and looked at him, she found his eyes he muttered. “Why had I not my wits about bent upon her face, as if he waited less for a me? A trumpery song! Such a litle thing! I reply than for compliance with his request—or am glad I made her understand that it was a trifle. demand—she knew not which it was. She con- I should like to see her look if I asked her a real quered her surprise ; tried to think she felt it to favor. I should like to see how she took it. be a matter of entire indifference, and said, “I Something that it would cost her something to will sing it, if you like."

grant—something the granting of which argued I do like, very much. And when will you that she looked with favor upon one. Would she sing it?" he asked, pausing at the foot of the do it? By Jove, if her pride were tamed to it, stairs. Judith had ascended a step or two. and she did it at last, it would be worth a man's

“Oh, when Mrs. Aveson calls me down to while to go on his knees for it, whatever it was." supper," she answered slowly, her surprise not He stood by the window, frowning over what yet overcome.

seemed to him his own obtuseness, till at last a “ Thank you. You are very indulgent, and I gleam of pleasure flitted across his face. assure you I feel proportionately grateful,” said “I have it !” he said within himself, with a Aglionby, with a smile which Judith knew not triumphant smile. “I will make her promise. how to interpret. She said not a word, but left She will not like it, she will chafe under it, but him at the foot of the stairs, with an odd little she shall promise. The greatest favor she could thrill shooting through her, as she thought : confer upon me would be to receive a favor from

"I was not wrong. He does delight to be the meand she shall. Then she can never look master-and perhaps I ought to have resisted - upon me as 'nobody' again." though I don't know why. One might easily He rang for lights, and pulled out a bundle of obey that kind of master-but what does it all papers which Mr. Whaley had given him to look matter? After to-morrow afternoon all this will over, but on trying to study them he found that be at an end."

he could not conjure up the slightest interest in Aglionby turned into the parlor, as she went them; that they were, on the contrary, most disup-stairs; the smile lingering still on his lips. tasteful to him. He opened the window at last, All the day, off and on, the scene had haunted and leaned out, saying to himself, as he flung the him in imagination-Judith seated at the piano, papers upon the table: singing, he standing somewhere near her, listen “If she knew what was before her, she would ing to that one particular song. All day, too, he not come down. But she has promised, and had kept telling himself that, all things con- heaven forbid that I should forewarn and forearm sidered, it would hardly do to ask her to sing it; her.” that it would look very like impertinence if he The night was fine; moonless, but starlight. did; would be presuming on his position-would He went outside, lit his pipe, and paced about. want some more accomplished tactician than he He had been learning from Mr. Whaley what a was, to make the request come easily and natu goodly heritage he had entered upon. He was rally.

beginning to understand how he stood, and what

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