er's tenderness stirring in her cold heart | her own powers, and felt as if she could which made her question and cross-question endure anything, and that she should never me the next time that I was alone with her? forget the generosity and forbearance he There had often been a talk of some com- had shown her poor father. Anna was panion or better sort of attendant. When delighted that her sister should go; she the news came of poor old Barly's failure, threw off the shawl in which she had muffled it was Mrs. Griffiths herself who first vaguely herself up ever since their reverses, brightalluded again to this scheme. ened up wonderfully, talked mysteriously of Fanny's prospects as she helped both the girls to pack, made believe to shed a few tears as Belinda set off, and bustled back into the house with renewed importance. Belinda looked back and waved her hand, but Anna's back was already turned upon her. "I might engage one of those girls-the -the-Belinda, I think you called her?" I was touched, and took her cold hand and kissed it. "I am sure she would be an immense comfort to you," I said. "You would never regret your kindness." The sick woman sighed and turned away impatiently, and the result was the invitation to dinner, which turned out so disasterously. V. WHEN Mr. Barly came down to breakfast the morning after he found another of those square official looking letters upon the table, there was a cheque in it for 100%. "You will have to meet heavy expenses," the young man wrote. "I am not sorry to have an opportunity of proving to you that it was not the money which you have taken from me I grudged, but the maner in which you took it. The only reparation you can make me is by keeping the enclosed for your present necessity." In truth the family prospects were not very brilliant. Myrtle Cottage was resplendent with clean windows and well-scrubbed door steps, but the furniture wanted repairing, the larder refilling. Belle could not darn up the broken flap of the dining-room table, nor conjure legs of mutton out of bare bones, though she got up ever so early; sweeping would not mend the hole in the carpet, nor could she dust the mildew-stains off the walls, the cracks out of the lookingglass. Poor Belinda! For all her courage and cheerfulness her heart sank a little as they reached the great bronze gates in Castle Gardens. She would have been more unhappy still if she had not had to keep up her father's spirits. It was almost dinner-time, and Mrs. Griffiths' maid came down with a Anna was morose, helpless, and jealous of the younger girl's influence over her father. Fanny was delicate; one gleam of happiness, however streaked her horizon: Emily Ogden had written to invite her to spend a few days there. When Mr. Barly and his daughter had talked over Mr. Griffiths' proposition, Belle's own good sense told her that it would be folly to throw away this good chance. Let Mrs. Griffith be ever so trying and difficult to deal with, and her son a thousand times sterner and ruder than he had already shown himself, she was determined to bear it all. Belinda knew message. Her mistress was tired, and just going to bed, and would see her in the morning; Mr. Griffiths was dining in town; Miss Williamson would call upon Miss Barly that evening. Dinner had been laid as usual in the great dining-room, with its marble columns and draperies, and Dutch pictures of game and of birds and flowers. Three servants were in waiting, a great silver chandelier lighted the dismal meal, hugh dish-covers were upheaved, decanters of wine were handed round, all the entrées and delicacies came over again. Belle tried to eat to keep her father in company. She even made little jokes, and whispered to him that they evidently meant to fatten her up. The poor old fellow cheered up by degrees; the good claret warmed his feeble pulse, the good care comforted and strengthened him. wish Martha would make us ice-puddings," said Bell, helping him to a glittering mass of pale-coloured cream, with nutmeg and vanilla, and all sorts of delicious spices. He had just finished the last mouthful when the butler started and rushed out of the room, a door banged, a bell rang violently, a loud scraping was heard in the hall, and an echoing voice said, "Are they come?" Are they in the dining room?" And the crimson curtain was lifted up, and the master of the house entered the room carrying a bag and a great-coat over his arm. As he passed the sideboard the button of the coat caught in the fringe of a cloth which was spread upon it, and in a minute the cloth and all the glasses and plates which had been left there came to the ground with a wild crash, which would have made Belle "You leave early in the morning, but I hope we shall keep your daughter for a very long time." Poor fellow he meant no harm and only intended this by way of conversation. Belle in her secret heart said to herself that he was a cruel brute; and poor Guy, having made this impression, broken a dozen wine-glasses, and gone through untold struggles of shyness, now wished them both good-night. "Good-night, Mr. Barly; good-night, Miss Belle," said he. Something in his voice caused Belle to relent a little. 66 at his own appearance. "To think that happiness and life itself and love eternal depend upon tailors and hair-oil," groaned poor Guy, as he went down to his room to write letters. Mrs. Griffiths had not seen Belle the night before; she was always nervously averse to seeing strangers, but she had sent for me that evening, and as I was leaving she asked me to go down and speak to Miss Barly before I went. Belinda was already in her room, but I ventured to knock at the door. She came to meet me with a bright puzzled face and all her pretty hair falling loose about her face. She had not a notion who I was, but begged me to come in. When I had explained things a little, she pulled out a chair for me to sit down. "This house seems to me so mysterious and unlike anything else I have ever known," said she, "that I'm very grateful to any one who will tell me what I'm to do here- please sit down a little while." I told her that she would have to write notes, to add up bills, to read to Mrs. Griffiths, and to come to me whenever she wanted any help or comfort. "You were quite right to come," said I. "They are excellent people. Guy is the kindest, best fellow in the whole world, and I have long heard of you, Miss Barly, and I'm sure such a good daughter as you have been will be rewarded some day." Belle looked puzzled, grateful, a little proud, and very charming. She told me afterwards that it had been a great comfort to her father to hear of my little visit to her, and that she had succeeded in getting him away without any very painful scene. Poor Belle! I wonder how many tears she shed that day after her father was gone! While she was waiting to be let in to Mrs. Griffiths she amused herself by wandering about the house, dropping a little tear here and there as she went along, and trying to think that it amused her to see so many yards of damask and stair-carpeting, all exactly alike, so many acres of chintz of the same pattern. Good-night, Mr. Griffiths," said the girl, standing up, a slight graceful figure, simple and nymph-like, amidst all this pomp of circumstance. As Griffiths shuffled out of the room he saw her still; all night he saw her in his dreams. That bright winsome young creature dressed in white soft folds, with all the gorgeous gildings and draperies, and the lights burning, and the pictures and gold cups glimmering round about her. They were his, and as many more of them as he chose the inanimate, costly, sickening pomps and possessions; but a pure "Mr. Griffiths desired me to say that this spirit like that, to be a bright living com- tower room was to be made ready for you panion for him? Ah, no! that was not to to sit in, ma'am," said the respectful butler, be not for him, not for such as him. Guy, meeting her and opening a door. "It has for the first time in his life, as he went not been used before." And he gave her downstairs next morning, stopped and the key, to which a label was affixed, with looked at himself attentively in the great "MISS BARLY'S ROOM" written upon it, glass on the staircase. He saw a great in the housekeeper's scrawling handwritloutish, round-backed fellow, with a shaggy head and brown glittering eyes, and little strong white teeth like a dog's; he gave an uncouth sudden caper of rage and regret ing. Belle gave a little shriek of admiration. It was a square room, with four windows, overlooking the gardens, the distant park, vants came in with a telegram. Belinda tore open her telegram in some alarm and trembling terror of bad news from home; and then smiled a sweet loving smile of relief. The telegram came from Guy. It was dated from his office. "Your father desires me to send word that he is safe home. He sends his love. I have been to D. on business, and travelled down with him. Belinda could not help saying to herself that Mr. Griffiths was very kind to have thought of her. His kindness gave her courage to meet his mother. and the broad cheerful road which ran past | broke down at the thought, but some one the house. An ivy screen had been trained knocked at the door at that instant, and she over one of the windows, roses were clus- forced herself to be calm as one of the sertering in garlands round the deep sill casements. There was an Indian carpet, and pretty silk curtains, and comfortable chintz chairs and sofas, upon which beautiful birds were flying and lilies wreathing. There was an old-fashioned-looking piano too, and a great book-case filled with books and music. They certainly treat me in the most magnificent way," thought Belle, sinking down upon the sofa in the window which overlooked the rose-garden, and inhaling a delicious breath of fragrant air. They can't mean to be very unkind." Belle, who was a little curious, it must be confessed, looked at everything, made secret notes in her mind, read the titles of the books, examined the china, discovered a balcony to her turret. There was a little writing-table, too, with paper and pens and inks of various colours, which especially pleased her. A glass cup of cut roses had been placed upon it, and two dear little green books, in one of which some one had left a paper-cutter. The first was a book of fairy tales, from which I hope the good fairy editress will forgive me for stealing a sentence or two. The other little green book was called the Golden Treasury; and when Belle took it up, it opened where the paper-cutter had been left, at the seventh page, and some one had scored the sonnet there. Belle read it, and somehow, as she read, the tears in her eyes started afresh. Being your slave, what should I do but tend it began. "To" had been scrawled O, my love's like a red, red rose, That's sweetly played in tune! and this was signed with a G. "Love! That is not for me; but I wish I had a slave," thought poor Belle, hanging her head over the book as it lay open in her lap, "and that he was clever enough to tell me what my father is doing at this minute." She could imagine it for herself, alas! without any magic interference. She could see the dreary little cottage, and her poor old father wearily returning alone. She nearly It was not very much that she had to do; but whatever it was she accomplished well and thoroughly, as was her way. Whatever the girl put her hand to she put her whole heart to at the same time. Her energy, sweetness, and good spirits cheered the sick woman and did her infinite good. Mrs. Griffiths took a great fancy to her, and liked to have her about her. Belle lunched with her the first day. She had better dine down below, Mrs. Griffiths said; and when dinner-time came the girl dressed herself, smoothed her yellow curls, and went shyly down the great staircase into the diningroom. It must be confessed that she glanced a little curiously at the table, wandering whether she was to dine alone or in company. This problem was soon solved; a side-door burst open, and Guy made his appearance, looking shy and ashamed of it as he came up and shook hands with her. "Miss Belinda," said he, "will you allow me to dine with you ? " "You must do as you like," said Belinda, quickly, starting back. "It is "Not at all," said Mr. Griffiths. entirely as you shall decide. If you don't like my company, you need only say so. I shall not be offended. Well, shall we dine together?" "Oh, certainly," laughed Belinda, confused in her turn. So the two sat down to dine together. For the first time in his life Guy thought the great room light enough and bright and comfortable. The gold and silver plate didn't seem to crush him, nor the draperies to suffocate, nor the great columns ready to fall upon him. There was Belinda picking her grapes and playing with the sugarplums. He could hardly believe it possible. His poor old heart gave great wistful thumps (if such a thing is possible) at the sound of her voice. She had lost much of her shyness, and they were talking of any thing that came into their heads. She had been telling him about Myrtle Cottage, and the spiders there, and looking up, laughing, she was surprised to see him staring at her very sadly and kindly. He turned away abruptly, and began to help himself to all sorts of things out of the silver dishes. "It's very good of you," Guy said, looking away, "to come and brighten this dismal house, and to stay with a poor suffering woman and a great uncouth fellow like myself." the hall, on the way, with some roses in her apron, she suddenly almost ran up against Guy, who had come home earlier than usual. The girl stood blushing and looking more charming than ever. The young fellow stood quite still too, looking with such expressive and admiring glances that Belinda blushed deeper still, and made haste to escape to her room. Presently the gong sounded, and there was no help for it, and she had to go down again. Guy was in the diningroom as polite and as shy as usual, and Belinda gradually forgot the passing impression. The butler put the dessert on the table and left them, and when she had finished her fruit Belinda got up to say good-by. As she was leaving the room she heard Guy's footsteps following. She stopped short. He came up to her. He looked very pale, and "If you were very stupid," said Belle, said suddenly in a quick, husky voice, smiling, you would not have said that," Belle, will you marry me?" Poor Belinda Mr. Griffiths. Stupid people always think themselves charming." "But you are both so very kind," said Belinda, simply. "I shall never for get "Kind!" cried Guy, very roughly. "I behaved like a brute to you and your father yesterday. I am not used to ladies' society. I am stupid and shy and awkward." 66 When Guy said good-night immediately after dinner as usual, he sighed again, and looked at her with such kind and melancholy eyes that Belle felt an odd affection and compassion for him. "I never should have thought it possible to like him so much," thought the girl, as she slowly went along the passage to Mrs. Griffiths' door. It was an odd life this young creature led in the great silent stifling house, with uncouth Guy for her playfellow, the sick woman's complaints and fancies for her duty in life. The silence of it all, its very comfort and splendidness, oppressed Belinda more at times than a simpler and more busy life. But the garden was an endless pleasure and refreshment, and she used to stroll about, skim over the terraces and walks, smell the roses, feed the birds and the gold fishes. Sometimes I have stood at my window watching the active figure flitting by in and out under the trellis, fifteen times round the pond, thirty-two times along the terrace walk. Belle was obliged to set herself tasks, or she would have got tired sometimes of wandering about by herself. All this time she never thought of Guy except as a curious sort of companion; any thought of sentiment had never once occurred to her. VI. opened her grey eyes full in his face. She He wasn't angry or surprised. He had Poor Belle, she stood there where he had Belle turned wistfully to Mrs. Griffiths. ONE day that Belle had been in the garden longer than usual, she remembered a note for Mrs. Griffiths that she had forgotten to write, and springing up the steps into FOURTH SERIES. LIVING AGE. VOL. V. .158. she muttered in her indistinct way. on, Miss Barly." "Go cept a sixpence of her salary.) Mrs. Griffiths evidently wanted her; Guy, poor fellow, would have given all he had to keep her, as we all knew too well. "Oh, but tell me first, ought I remain here?" Belle asked, imploringly. Certainly, unless you are unhappy with Circumstance orders events sometimes, us," the sick woman answered, peevishly. when people themselves, with all their powMrs. Griffiths never made any other allusion ers and knowledge of good and of evil, are to what had happened. I think the truth but passive instruments in the hands of fate. was that she did not care very much for News came that Mr. Barly was ill, and litanything outside the doors of her sick-tle Belinda, with an anxious face, and a room. Perhaps she thought her son had note in her trembling hand, came into Mrs. been over-hasty, and that in time Belinda Griffiths' room one day to say she must go might change her mind. To people lying to him directly. "Your father is ill," wrote on their last sick-beds, the terrors, anxieties, Anna. "Circumstancês demand your imlongings of life seem very curious and mediate return to him." Guy happened to strange. They seem to forget that they be present, and when Belle left the room he were once anxious, hopeful, eager them- followed her out into the passage. selves, as they lie gazing at the awful veil which will so soon be withdrawn from before their fading eyes. A sort of constraint came between Guy and Belinda at first, but it wore away by degrees. He often alluded to his proposal, but in so hopeless and gentle a way that she could not be angry, still she was disquieted and unhappy. She felt that it was a false and awkward position. She could not bear to see him looking ill and sad, as he did at times, with great black rings under his dark eyes. It was worse still when she saw him brighten up with happiness at some chance word she let fall now and then -speaking inadvertently of home, as he did, or of the roses next year. He must not . mistake her. She could not bear to pain him by hard words, and yet sometimes she felt it was her duty to speak them. One day she met him in the street, on her way back to the house. The roll of the passing carriage-wheels gave Guy confidence, and, walking by her side, he began to say, "Now I never know what delightful surprise may not be waiting for me at every street corner. Ah, Miss Belle, my whole life might be one long dream of wonder and happiness, if. "Don't speak like this ever again; I shall go away," said Belle, interrupting, and crossing the road, in her agitation, under the very noses of two omnibus horses. "I wish I could like you enough to marry you. I shall always love you enough to be your friend; please don't talk of anything else." Belle said this in a bright brisk imploring decided way, and hoped to have put an end to the matter. That day she came to me and told her little story. There were almost as many reasons for her staying as for her leaving, the poor child thought. I could not advise her to go, for the assistance that she was able to send home was very valuable. (Guy laughed, and utterly refused to ac "You are going?" he said. "I don't know what Anna means by circumstances, but papa is ill, and wants me," said Belinda, almost crying. "And I want you," said Guy; "but that don't matter of course. Go-go, since you wish it." After all, perhaps it was well she was going, thought Belle, as she went to pack up her boxes. Poor Guy's sad face haunted her. She seemed to carry it away in her box with her other possessions. It would be difficult to describe what he felt, poor fellow, when he came upon the luggage standing ready corded in the hall, and he found that Belle had taken him at his word. He was so silent a man, so selfcontained, so diffident of his own strength to win her love in time, so unused to the ways of the world and of women, that he could be judged by no ordinary rule. His utter despair and bewilderment would have been laughable almost, if they had not been so genuine. He paced about the garden with hasty uncertain footsteps, muttering to himself as he went along, and angrily cutting at the rose-hedges. "Of course she must go, since she wished it; - of course she must-of course, of course. What would the house be like when she was gone?" For an instant a vision of a great dull vault without warmth, or light or colour, or possible comfort anywhere, rose before him. He tried to imagine what his life would be if she never came back into it; but as he stood still trying to seize the picture, it seemed to him that it was a thing not to be imagined or thought of. Wherever he looked he saw her, everywhere and in everything. He had imagined himself unhappy; now he discovered that for the last few weeks, since little Belinda had come, he had basked in the summer she had brought, and found new life in the sunshine of her presence. Of |