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quarter of a train; Cranmer without a nose, and without his proper complement of fingers, his scarlet robe and embroidered apron, apparently in shreds or strips; the upholstery of the apartment in a most unfinished state, and the wall itself most shockingly dilapidated. In a week, half-a-dozen things were commenced, a handscreen, an urn-stand, a bed quilt, and a bead-wrought purse for Cyril's own immediate use.

It was surprising how all these varied amusements consoled Miss Ashburner, for we were half afraid of a repetition of the melancholy abandonment which in the spring had placed her life in danger. Agnes finished her banner-screen, and began an ottoman. Still very quiet and reserved, and uniformly grave, she seemed to find no small pleasure in helping Elizabeth with these preparations, which I could not help thinking would never be required. She was certainly very fond of Elizabeth, treating her with tenderness and great consideration, yet always so it appeared to mestriving to render her more stable, more steadfast, more reliable.

Thus the lovely summer wore away, till Sir John took us all into Cornwall, and there we spent six weeks very happily on the shores of the broad Atlantic Ocean, visiting every place of interest, going out to the Scilly Isles, and crossing over more than once to the Channel Islands; and Cyril came down to us while we were enjoying ourselves at a retired little village on the coast, where it is grandest and most beautiful, and stayed with us for a week.

How well I remember the night before he left Penrhoe for London; we, the juniors, were all scrambling about the rocky shore, and the sun was sinking in one vast sheet of ruddy molten gold. All around were the craggy rocks, huge towering cliffs, and mighty pinnacles of spray-beaten fretted stone; the great sea thundered at our feet, now boiling furiously over some hidden reef, now gliding calmly into some little land-locked bay; now rippling

in long lines of flashing light, now giving back the purple azure of the stainless evening sky; and over head the wild, white sea-birds swept in airy circles, and their plaintive cries aroused the echoes of the

wave-worn caves.

"This time to-morrow night," said Cyril, “I shall look upon another tide than this-the great tide of human life, that breaks and roars, and ebbs and flows in the busy streets of London!"

"I should like to breast that tide if I were a man!" said Agnes, looking thoughtfully across the shining, tossing waters. "I sometimes think I should like to have to fight my own way in the world.”

"Not a wise wish for a woman!" I remarked.

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Not a wise wish for any one!" said Cyril, "it sounds very finely, when we talk of carving a way to fame, and winning for ourselves a place in the great arena of the world, and Excelsior' is a favourite song. But when it comes to daily toil, unvarying monotony, urging on the tired energies and flagging interests, carrying excelsior into daily, hourly practice, and getting many a fall and thrust and jostle on the weary, upward way, one finds that the task is more prosaic than it seemed to be when viewed in bright perspective, through the golden haze of hope. and the illusions of one's youthful fancy."

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Poor Cyril! I dare say it is a wretched life to go morning after morning to those stupid offices in Parliament-street," said Elizabeth, putting her hand on his, "and then to go home at night to a boardinghouse! London must be a dreary place to live in under such circumstances, though I fancy I should like it well enough in the season! Well, perhaps it will not last long."

There was a significance in Miss Ashburner's tone and glance that told us she referred to something which had been under discussion between themselves previously. My heart misgave me, that this sort of sympathy was very bad for

Cyril, and Miss Craven felt this more intensely than myself. I could see it in her face; an expression of dismay, almost of anguish, flitted across her features as she listened. While I wondered at her emotion, and recalled for an instant those suspicions which had for some time passed entirely from my mind, she spoke: "Nay, Elizabeth! but that is not the way to spur to nobler deeds your own true knight! Tell him rather to set forth with fresh vigour and new strength, to fight against the foes that gather round him, like the chevaliers of old, having for his battle cry-For the love of God and of my own true ladyè!'"

"If there were anything worth striving for, I might," said Elizabeth discontentedly. "I can understand the maidens and the dames of early days sending forth their warriors and Paladins with words of high heroic cheer! I could have bound my colours on Cyril's arm, and not have shed a tear were he going forth to fight in the crusade! I can understand women going with their husbands disguised as pages, and receiving for those they loved the death-wound, with a deep and holy joy. I can understand Clotilde of Provence searching by night on the bloody battle-field to find her lord among the slain, when the recreant vassal said his leader's plume was seen upon the flight! I can understand Alcestis dying for Admetus. I can understand a thousand old heroic tales of those far distant times; but I cannot understand urging on friend or lover in the ignoble race of money-getting! It is all very well for men of business, born and bred for the sons of shopkeepers, and merchants and manufacturers to toil early, and late take rest in pursuit of vulgar pelf! but for Cyril -the heir of Monkswood!"

"Oh Elizabeth, take care!" burst from my eager lips. "Cyril, do not listen to her."

But Cyril was gazing in rapt admiration on the beautiful face upturned to his own, for he sat upon a slab of rock a little raised above her

granite seat, and he was drinking in the eloquence of those lovely lips, and heeded not my caution, nor the sad, serious countenance of Agnes Craven.

"We will trust it may not be for long!" said Cyril, almost in a whisper. But I ignored the sotto voce tone, which implied a sort of confidence, and boldly asked-" Do you think, then, of abandoning your post, Cyril; have you anything better in prospect?"

"Yes-and no," he answered, hesitatingly. "Janet and Agnes, we are all such dear friends together that I may tell you what is giving me hopes of speedy release from this hateful drudgery of office-work. I have made all inquiries into the solvency of the Cordillera and Alleghany Mining Company, and I find that, so far from being on the eve of collapse, it is in a most flourishing condition, and the shares are still at premium, and going up!" "Are you sure? Did in the proper quarters?

you inquire

"Of course I did! I made every inquiry, and looked into the matter very thoroughly,-and the result is, as I told you, most satisfactory, most promising."

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Sir John has persuaded Mr. Mc Cormick to sell out, I know," said Agnes, deprecatingly.

"Yes! Sir John being in the country, and used to the old-fashioned slow and steady pace of driving Madam Fortune's steeds, is naturally distrustful of the railroad speed with which men now-a-days rush onward to the goal. One only vegetates, living in these rural shades; you must go up to town if you want to win the race gloriously: this is an age of progress!"

"Of progress, yes!" said Agnes, very gravely. "But, Cyril, do not try to outstrip the railway-pace and soar into the skies on wings that some one else has invented! Remember the fate of Icarus! I have such dependence on Sir John's sagacity-he knows what life is, though his days for the most part are spent at Forest Range. His nature is not timorous: I have heard him say often, 'Nothing ven

ture, nothing have; but, to use another aphorism, he 'looks before he leaps.'

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"My dear Miss Craven, I have looked most keenly, I assure you. Why, Sir John prophesied the breaking up of the Company last April, when my sister and John Erskine were with us. It was in May that poor Mc Cormick came to him in such great terror, and actually sold off his shares, which would have been worth half as much again to him to-day if he had retained them. And now it is the end of August, and the Company not only keeps its head above water, but is floating triumphantly on the crested waves of a golden flowing tide!"

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Of course not! My mother would not sell them, even had I wished it, and I, after one or two talks with the directors, could not advise her to sell out; on the contrary, I have made further purchases on my own account; and Sir John will own that I was right, when he sees me redeeming the alienated acres of Monkswood, and restoring the poor old long-neglected place to its pristine glories!'

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Cyril," said Agnes, very earnestly, and I noticed that her voice shook a little,-"I implore you by the friendship that is between us, by your hopes of making a happy home for Elizabeth, as you value your own peace of mind, do not trust to this Eldorado scheme of getting rich. Oh! be content to plod quietly on a few years longer, and I am sure that talents such as yours will be acknowledged by the world, and you will win your way to fame and fortune! Do you know, these Companies seem to me nothing more nor less than gambling?

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Nay! that is a hard name to give to the speculative genius of the nineteenth century! But I promise you, Agnes, as a brother would promise his dearest sister, I will not trust solely to the prospects that are brightening before me;-I will stick firmly to my duties, and

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They are mines of all sorts; gold and silver mines, and copper too, and lead, I fancy also,-I think lead always goes with silver. And Mr. Sparkes, the great man among them, told me the other day in confidence, that in the course of the mining operations they had come upon diamonds and emeralds !"

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"Almost like a story out of the 'Arabian Nights,'" said Agnes, sadly. "Nay!" interposed Elizabeth, "I have read Prescott's Conquest of Peru,' and there you are told all about the gems and precious metals of the soil. Prescott is reliable of course, and he tells us that gold was a mere drug in the ancient city of Cuzco-they made everything of gold, those aboriginal Peruvians— even the water-pipes, and reservoirs, and common vessels for domestic use; and jewels were of no account. I remember reading of a golden door, crusted over with emeralds and other precious stones!"

"That was when the Spaniard first planted himself in the land," Agnes replied. "Most of the mines are exhausted now, I fear."

"No doubt," was Cyril's quick rejoinder; "but what is more natural than that fresh ones should be discovered? This is a colossal Company, you understand. They must have unlimited means at their command, and they will pour unlimited wealth into the lap of their shareholders. I have studied the thing well, - able geologists of known repute have given their opinion concerning the presence of mineral riches in certain spots among the mountains, and they confirm every

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statement of this Company. Several mines are being worked successfully already; many more are discovered and only waiting for funds to commence the works, and explorers still go out, finding spots where, by certain unmistakable indications, gold and silver, and other rich ores, lie beneath the soil,"

Cyril talked on, till I believe Agnes and I began to believe in the Cordillera and Alleghany Company, and we all grew enthusiastic together. One might have thought that one had only to go out to certain districts of the Western World with a pickaxe and a spade and dig up the precious metals, as one digs up potatoes in the less auriferous land of Southamshire! We talked till the golden glory faded from the sea, and left it cold and grey,-till the ruby-coloured mists that floated in the west became of a leaden, spectral hue, and a melancholy wind came moaning across the desolate waste of waters. The night was closing in, chill and sad, for there was no moon, and suddenly, as is often the case on these wild, wave-beaten shores, heavy troops of clouds came scudding up and settling landwards, casting a livid gloom upon the lately glowing landscape. Cyril was evidently depressed as he walked homewards: did he think the sudden chill and gloom might be the type of the close that waited on his brilliant visions? Whatever he thought, he did not recover his cheerfulness that night, and the next morning he left Penrhoe, and we were to see him no more till Christmas-tide. We

lingered on a fortnight longer, and the last week of our sea-side sojourn we had Sally Hawkes for our guest; she had been so seriously unwell that Mrs. Denham was really glad to give her change of air and scene, lest she should break down altogether, a consummation not at all improbable.

CHAPTER XV.

THE CEDAR CHAMBER.

It was September when we returned once more to dear old Forest Range,―a beautiful mellow Septem

ber; and Southamshire looked fairer than ever, in its rich autumnal loveliness, after the bold and rugged features of the Cornish scenery. We had been at home, I think, about a week, -not longer, certainly,-when one morning, as Agnes and I were conversing in the breakfast-room, we saw Mrs. Denham walking, or rather striding, across the lawn towards the open window where we sat. We both exclaimed: for it was still very early, not much more than half-past nine, and she must have taken the earliest train that stopped at St. Croix, and walked up from the Ashchurch station. So unlike Mrs. Denham, the cold, the slowpondering, and the formal mistress of that dreary Monkswood! But where was Sally Hawkes, her inseparable shadow? Was anything the matter?—was Cyril dead-was -? But our rapidly-uttered cogitations were quickly suspended by Mrs. Denham stepping in at the window, which was French, and looking at us fixedly and stonily, and saying-" The Lord has visited me with His sore judgments: He has given me over into the hand of the spoiler!

My first idea was that Mrs. Denham had suddenly gone mad; my second, that the great bubble of the Cordillera and Alleghany Company had burst at last; but I said, "Dear Mrs. Denham, sit down,-what is the matter?

For she was trembling all over and her features working strangely, she, the frigidly composed, the imperturbable! Fetch your guardian, fetch Sir John!" she cried, waving her hand, as Vashti might have waved it, had she lost her senses. I obeyed her, looking to Agnes to remain with her while I left the room. While I was away, -and I had to seek Sir John in several places, and finally hunt him out from the uttermost parts of his own farm-lands, Mrs. Denham said to Agnes, imperiously, "Give me some wine; give me brandy!"

Agnes went herself and brought the decanters and a glass: she felt intuitively that our unexpected visitor did not wish to be waited on

by servants. Mrs. Denham seldom took wine at all,-her usual beverage was water,-and wine and spirits before ten o'clock in the morning had probably never suggested themselves to her before. She poured out some brandy, slightly diluted it with water from a carafe that always stood on a side-table, swallowed it slowly, gasped several times, and seemed relieved. Then Agnes, ashen-pale to the very lips, ventured to enquire, "Oh, Mrs. Denham-is it Cyril-is he-?"

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Cyril also is smitten;" replied Mrs. Denham, as Agnes said, with an awful intonation. But she gathered that her friend was still in the land of the living; and then it also flashed across her mind that the glistening bubble we had talked about that evening on the Penrhoe shore had melted into air. She sat sorrowful and anxious, not daring to say more, while Mrs. Denham shook her head and muttered to herself.

When Sir John appeared, she greeted him thus:-" Sir John! the children of this world are wiser in their generation than the light!you were right about those mining shares. There are no mines!-there may be no Cordillera chain or Alleghany Mountains for ought I know! I believe nothing: I trust nobody: I have been deceived by lies,-I am a ruined woman!"

Sir John was not surprised, but he was very sorry, and there was no sign of triumph on his fine, frank face: he never once reminded his hapless friend that he had warned her many times, that he had almost supplicated her to disconnect herself from this great mushroom Company, that he had prophesied long since the climax of the whole affair. He only begged her to be seated,— for she had risen excitedly at his entrance, her widow's bonnet, already unloosened, falling to the ground, and her grey hairs escaping wildly from her crumpled cap. "What

can I do?" he asked, kindly; "tell me all about it, Mrs. Denham."

"I have told you all! Somebody has been over to Peru, or Quito, or somewhere, and it is all a cheat. Everybody knew it was a cheat,

and was laughing at the poor dupes in the Old World. The news came over here, it spread,-the people clamoured, the offices were shut, --the managers and directors and the chairman had decamped,-and thousands of people are beggars, -Cyril and I among the number!"

"I will go up to town, something may be saved from the wreck. Do not quite give way, Mrs. Denham." But Mrs. Denham did give way, as was to be expected at her age; and after Sir John had taken his valise, and driven over to Ashchurch station, to catch the next up-train, she became so seriously ill that Lady Ashburner, in great alarm, sent for Mr. Goldfinch. He ordered her to bed, looked over Lady Ashburner's medicine-chest, and gave her a composing draught, and insisted on her being kept very quiet.

Towards afternoon Sally Hawkes arrived. Mrs. Denham had made quite an elopement from her own house, and no one knew whither she was gone. Sally, who surmised what had happened, felt impelled to seek her at Forest Range. She knew that she would fly for aid and counsel to Sir John, though she had despised his warnings, and even mocked at his timorous policy and his lugubrious predictions, as the months wore on and left them unaccomplished. But now all that he anticipated had come to pass, and poor humbled Mrs. Denham was glad to throw herself on the kindness and experience of her long-tried friend. We all offered our mite of consolation, and expressed our sympathy, which was sincere enough; but all the response we gained was, "Miserable comforters are ye all!" and she waved us from the room, and insisted on Sally going also, saying, "You need not wait upon me any longer, Sally: I shall not have sixpence in the world when a few pounds that are in the bank at Southchester are gone. I cannot keep a companion now; I must go into an almshouse: you must get another situation; I wish I had let you marry that slim grocer when he wanted you, five years ago!"

Sally went away in tears, not on

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