doing and bloodshed was yet fresh, and had vibrated through countless loyal hearts, and thrilled them with pain and distress, such as we can scarcely imagine.

The little chapel had been neatly fitted up for this short daily prayer, and the organ which Philip had told Irene he intended to place there, had arrived. But it was not put up in its place, as there had been some delay in the appearance of the man from London, who was to superintend it. When the servants were gone, Philip pointed it out to Jasper, and asked him if he cared for music; if so, he said, he hoped he would let the erection of the organ be completed. The same answer came, “If you wish it.”

Then, as by previous arrangement with Forrest and Mrs. Mason, Philip led the way to the servants' hall. There some ten or twelve of the tenantry were gathered; beside the staff of household servants, which was now very large. Philip walked into the centre of the hall, and said :

:

"My friends,-I wished to say a few words to you before I leave you, to express my thanks for all the kindliness you have shown me since I have been here; and to bid you good-bye. I also wish to introduce to you the grandson of the late Sir Jasper Dennistoun; and to assure you that his right here is undoubted; and that no question need arise in your mind as to that part of the matter. I hope you will receive him as you received me; and all prove to him what you have proved to me. You cannot please me better than by giving Sir Jasper Dennistoun a kindly welcome, and by serving him well."

The clear, sonorous voice rang through the hall; and, when Philip paused, there was silence. Then an old man stepped forward; he was the oldest servant present:

"We can't give you a cheer, Sir Philip, for what you say; our hearts are too heavy; but we'll do our best; and that young gentleman shall never see cause to complain-leastways, we hope not. And, Sir Jasper, you'll forgive my saying that, if you be to us what Sir Philip has been, we'll serve you heart and soul for your own sake, as well as his; and so, Sir Jasper, though we are well-nigh broken down-leastways, I am-to part from Sir Philip, right is right; and we know it. hold up your head amongst us, Sir Jasper; ashamed of nothing-you've no cause; and an honourable name handed down to you, Sir Jasper; and none have borne it better than him that's going from us. It's right and just he should go, and we know it; but it don't make it the easier to part. God bless him wherever he goes!"

So you may

and not be you have got

The speaker was a fine specimen of the class to which he belonged; and his speech, delivered slowly, with the broadest Cumberland accent, moved the hearts of his hearers more than any finer eloquence could have done.

Even Philip could trust himself to say no more; but he wrung the old man's hand with an earnest grasp, and the rest clustered round for the same parting honour. Sir Jasper stood by, unable to bring out a word; and, when Philip turned to leave the Hall, kept close to him, as if for protection. At the door, which Forrest held respectfully for his late master to pass, Philip paused, turned round on them all, and waved his hand, saying, "Good night; and may God bless you !

When he was gone, the silent group found words.

"I never see him look like that but once; and that was when he made that speech to the people after his

election," said one. "It is grand, I call it, to look at him."

"And that poor whipper-snapper, with his sandy hair and his sickly face, to take his place and step in his shoes! Well, there be some that have said Susan Cleveland was never the old gentleman's lawful wife.”

"I won't hear a word of it," broke in the veteran, who had spoken to Philip; "have we not his word for it? and what more do we want? Do you suppose he would deceive us?"

"Lor, no; especially as it would be to his advantage if Susan Cleveland never had been my lady," said another.

"Stop this," said the old man; "you won't mend matters by talking like this. I believe our late dear master would never have stopped to think of what he wanted. 'Just and right,' is his motto; and he knows this is just and right, and we must trust him. We will drink his health, by your leave, Mr. Forrest; and then the poor young Sir Jasper's; he looks as if he wanted it. I don't think he is long for this world, with a title or without it."

And so the evening closed; and in another month Rockdeane was silent and deserted. The nucleus of action was in the servants' hall, where Mrs. Mason and old Forrest still held rule over a diminished staff. The tide of life seemed to have ebbed again; and the young Sir Jasper sat in a corner of the great house, lonely and dejected, suffering from the effects of an illness which the chill English spring, in an exposed situation, did not tend to overcome.

Dr. Simpson, bland and smiling, called; and urged his advice in the most friendly terms. Forster William

son looked him up from time to time; and the young stirring bailiff managed the affairs of the estate under his direction; while the head himself was but a cypher. In due course cards were left at Rockdeane; but they lay in a pile, almost unnoticed. Sir Jasper was very much out of health, Dr. Simpson said; but he was an interesting young man, and he had no doubt, when he felt able, would emerge from his privacy, and do the position, in which he found himself placed, due honour. But Dr. Simpson's prophecy seemed long in fulfilment ; and Rodham began to give up the new Baronet as hopeless, and to turn its attention to other topics. The keen interest which the Dennistoun case had excited began to die out; and the building of the little Church, and the restoration of Hildyard's Almshouse Chapel, seemed to be the only signs which Sir Jasper gave of his existence.

CHAPTER XII.

FLOWERS OF LOVE AND PEACE.

"THEN, in that time and place I spoke to her,
Requiring, though I knew it was mine own,
Yet for the pleasure that I took to hear;
Requiring at her hand the greatest gift—
A woman's heart-the heart of her I loved."
"THE GARDENER'S DAUGHTER.”

IT was a still autumn afternoon when Irene Clifford turned out of the Warden's house, and crossed the courtyard to the door of the chapel. The restorations there were nearly finished, and the designs which Philip had approved had been faithfully carried out. A tesselated pavement had taken the place of the white stone; all the pillars were scraped and polished, and the beautiful tracery of the windows restored; while the cracked, dingy glass was replaced by coloured designs from the life of our Lord. The east end was pretty and appropriate; and the polished oak seats for the poor pensioners had each a crimson baize footstool, and desk for books. A large-printed Bible and Prayer-book lay before each seat. The tomb of Sir Philip and Editha had been carefully restored and cleaned; and it was no longer difficult to read the inscription. In the vestibule, the same care had been displayed, and the whole was now perfect of its kind.