CHAPTER XIV.

SHADOWS FROM THE PAST.

"I AM afraid that this burn of mine will be the

cause of much fussiness, Hester. Paul Raydon heard of it from his schoolfellow-Dr. Fenway's And the rector will call to-morrow to

eldest son.
make inquiries."

"Never mind; I always enjoy the rector's calls. He reminds me of old days, with his talk about parish matters, and his bits of news from the clerical world."

"I, too, was reminded of old days a few minutes. ago. A ghost seems to have wandered out of the past. Do you recollect the name of Clariston ?"

"Yes, a lawyer of that name was one of poor Archie's associates."

"I do not remember that he ever came to our house in Norwich, Hester."

"He only came once or twice, and then stayed but a few minutes. He was, I think, a young man of three or four and twenty. But what has brought him back to your mind?"

"Because we have seen a George Clariston this afternoon. John Fenway spoke to him as we came out of the churchyard. In answer to a question from Paul, he said that Mr. Clariston was the son of one of Dr. Fenway's old school friends." "Indeed. Does this Mr. Clariston live here?" "Yes. It seems that he is a new comer, and has entered into partnership with a solicitor named Brett."

Hester was silent and thoughtful.

"When I heard the name," continued Miriam, "I had a vague idea of something unpleasant connected with it. The man was unknown to me, I believe; but the light was growing dim, and I could only just make out that he was tall and handsome."

"My recollection of young Clariston's appearance is not very distinct," said Hester. Butyes I am sure he was handsome. And I know that he did not bear a good character."

"I wish he had not crossed our path again. I cannot help thinking, Hester, that Mrs. Grange has heard of Archie's crime from him. Perhaps it did not come out through the Cleeves."

"It is possible. But he cannot do us any real harm, dear Miriam. The fear of man 'bringeth a snare,' and your faith needs strengthening. I am sorry, however, that Mr. Clariston is intimate with the Fenways-that is, if he is really the Norwich Clariston."

"He may have a bad influence over the doctor's boys."

"Well, we can do nothing, Miriam. Perhaps he is altogether changed."

"I hope so. John Fenway is a pleasant, frank lad. He thanked me for burning myself for his sister's sake. I was feeling very happy, Hester, till that shadow came out of the past and darkened everything."

"It will vanish as it came. We are living so retired a life, that Mr. Clariston will not give any heed to us. Nothing is so safe as insignificance. And we find our Valley of Humiliation a very comfortable place."

The rector paid his visit, but Miriam was out on her rounds and did not see him. He wished to know more of these two sisters, yet their desire for seclusion was too evident not to be respected. He forebore, therefore, to ply them with invitations which they shrank from accepting, but in many little ways he contrived to show his interest in them. Mrs. Raydon sent fruit and flowers from the rectory garden, and kept Hester well supplied with books. She called on the invalid now and then, and chatted with her about her three sons. The Raydons had been called proud and exclusive, and there might, perhaps, have been a shadow of truth in the accusation. But it is certain that they made many attempts to break down the barrier of reserve which the Lynnes had set up, and that no thought of patronage ever entered their minds when they invited Miriam to their house.

After the rector's departure, Hester sat by the fire, and gathered together all the threads of old associations which his visit had drawn out of the loom of memory.

Her young pupils did not come to her in the

afternoons, Lucy was spending the day with the Waynes, and she was alone in the little parlour. The time was favourable for musing, the grey veil of winter dusk was falling out of doors, and the fire cast its cheerful glow over the room.

Mr. Raydon's conversation was like the talk that went on among her father's guests in the old home. From the Norfolk parsonage, with its peaceful memories, she passed onward to those troublesome years which she had spent with her brother.

It all came back to her; the miserable time when they found their property melting like snow before the sun; the half-suppressed hints of Archie's reckless doings; the sad groping in the dark, and then the terrible end.

The firelight flickered, a burning log suddenly gave way in the middle, and sent up a burst of little sparks. The flames leaped higher, illuminating a small foreign cabinet which was one of Hester's relics of the past. Its quaint figures and dim gilding shone out with startling distinctness. Hester looked at it for a moment, and then rising, crossed the floor with a quicker step than usual.