gave birth to a daughter. Rollo had not told the Bullivants his real position, so poor Theresa, who lived only two years after the birth of her child, did not know that she had any claim upon Delamere. I wrote to Delamere on the subject, and he offered to pay, through me, an annuity to Theresa. I saw that the Bullivants were incapable of bringing up the child after poor Theresa died, so I begged to be allowed to take her from them altogether. I put her in the care of an ancient relation who I knew would bring her up properly. When Delamere succeeded to the earldom I pressed upon him the importance of acknowledging his own marriage and his son's. But he would not do so. This is my business here now and I have at length brought it to a successful ending. You will not be surprised to hear that Rollo's child is your Elinor yours, I say, for I see you are both in earnest."

Frank was staggered.

"Tell me, Mr. Carington, what I am to do? How can I marry her, being so much above me in wealth and rank? If the Earl consented, it would be only because he wants to make amends for having killed my father. What am I to do?"

"Frank," said Mr. Carington, "I quite expected this. You are proud, rightly proud: you belong to as good a family as there is in England. Still, look at the matter the other way, my dear boy. Hadn't you pleasure in thinking that Elinor was a pretty little pauper-that the twenty thousand that turned up just at the nick of time was a nice present for her? Now, don't you think it will give your Elinor infinite pleasure to do for you what you thought of doing for her? Why should she not? There is selfishness in the independence which refuses to receive anything from the woman who loves you."

"All you say is right, my dear Mr. Carington, and I will take your advice above that of any man I will accept your opinion

rather than my own. Tell me what shall I do?"

"Go to your Elinor: tell her all I have told you: talk it over from end to end. She has not the slightest idea that she will probably be Countess of Delamere in her own right. . . for the Earldom goes in the female line. Tell her the whole story."

"But," said Frank, "my position is doubly awkward. Elinor and I loved one another before we had the least idea there was this impassable gulf between us."

"Impassable!"

"Is it not?"

Assuredly not. Now I am a mere man of the world, as you know, Frank. There is no poetry in my soul. I go in for comfort and quiet, moderate habits and early hours. commonplace intellect it seems that in this one paramount consideration.

Yet even to my imbroglio there is

Take the three words, money,

:

rank, love how would you range them? first?"

"Love, of course," said Frank, unhesitatingly.

Which do you place

"Love, of course. Rank, a bad second. Money, third; loving second place by a neck. Well, here are you and Elinor in love. Two courses are open to you. First, this: be unselfish, and don't marry. What results? You run wild, and spend that twenty thousand of old Matt Noel's in a year; Elinor pines, is shut up for a year or two in the Great Hall-is then shut up for ever in the family vault . . . the last Countess of Delamere. The carrion crows of Chancery gorge the great Delamere estates.

"Come, Frank, don't be foolish. Go and talk it over with Elinor. Her healthy mind will soon set you right. Ask her how she likes the idea of

'Mr. Noel and the Countess of Delamere."

Frank went.

"I should like to deprive the boy of his grievance," thought Mr. Carington. "But it can't be Rollo."

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

DIEU DISPOSE.

Astrologos. I have known men who died, and came to life again ;

I have known men who died, and came to death again.

I have known men who neither lived nor died at all,
But were pure phantoms, shadows on the atmosphere.
Raphael. Poor ghosts, who shivered through the world.

The Comedy of Dreams.

GOD has his way. Milton humorously makes the rebel angels, much bored during the absence of their Prince on the first geographical exploration known to history, occupy their time in high reasonings

"Of Providence, foreknowledge, will, and fate;
Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute."

That they "found no end, in wandering mazes lost," is no matter for wonder, seeing they had just thrown away the clue. The question has disturbed men, as well as rebellious spirits, from time immemorial to time instant: the solution is intelligible only to those who understand that they are one with the Divinity. My will is free, because God's will is free: He and I can no more differ in opinion than my brain and my hand can differ. No man understands himself who can think of himself apart from God. A certain poet has written

VOL XIII

SS

"Helen and I look out upon the west.
O unimaginable sunset! O

Soft sky in mystic waves of colours drest,
With great Apollo's final kiss aglow !
O lights that lessen, linger, glisten, grow!
Almighty Artist, never do I see

Thy little lightest touch of fire or snow,

Of bird that sings, of blossom upon tree,

Without that inner silent saying: I love Thee."

Were this, instead of a story, a philosophic treatise, it would be easy to show that fixed fate and free will are ultimately identical; but in order to do this it would be necessary to postulate the existence of a Deity, which seems too much for ninety-nine of a hundred modern philosophers. Yet even Voltaire said that if there were no God, it would be necessary to invent one.

Frank Noel, taking Mr. Carington's advice, went in search of Elinor. She was with the Marchesa. Impatient to talk to her, he went to Raffaella's apartment: that lively lady, who had by this time forgotten her fright about Brakinska, set Tasso at him by way of welcome. The little white dog barked and snarled; the little white lady laughed and sang; Frank only looked rueful, and Elinor, who saw he wanted to talk to her, looked almost as bad. The Marchesa was delighted.

"You two children are both in love," she said, "and not with one another. Nothing else could make you so dull. If it was one another, you would be making love before my eyes, and treating me as if I were nobody. You see, I know the signs."

Poor dear Frank, weighed with Mr. Carington's revelation, had not a word to throw at a dog-much less at this fantastic Florentine; and as to Elinor, she saw so clearly that her lover was troubled about something, that she hardly listened to what her friend said. Probably the Marchesa had some idea of the situation, for she suddenly exclaimed,

"Oh! go away, please, both of you! You are making me so dull that I shall begin to think I am English, not Italy. Now do go, that's dear young people: Tasso and I can amuse one another.”

Thus adjured, Frank and Elinor took their leave, and went together into the Hall, which was deserted.

"Elinor, my love," said Frank, standing with his back to the fire and looking moodily into space, "I am most unhappy."

"Why, Frank?"

"It seems ludicrous," he went on, without answering her question ; "you and I love one another, I think?"

"I should think we did," she exclaimed, indignantly.

"Well, the right thing to do is to marry; but how are we to do that when Carington tells me that you are Lord Delamere's granddaughter, and heiress to the title and estates?"

"Is that true?" asked Elinor, gravely.

"Carington says so-what he says is true."

She laughed quite merrily.

"Now do they think, Frank, and do you think, that there is any claim upon me to behave as the heiress of the Delameres might be expected to? If they had brought me up to it from the nursery, I might have considered myself made of pure aristocratic gold, and not deigned to look at anybody carved in baser metal. It is too late now; and glad I am it is too late. You and I don't want the estate, Frank: couldn't they find a male heir somewhere? I like this glorious old house, and I like my grandfather; but I love you, Frank, and I won't let you off. I know exactly what it is. Proud boy! you don't want your wife to have more 'rascal counters' than yourself. Did I object, sir, to that casual twenty thousand pounds? I am ashamed of you men. What are money and rank against love?"

"That's what Carington said."

"Of course he did. Mr. Carington is a man of the right sort. You, being his godson, ought to be like him. What in the world is it between you and me, whether I am a countess or a village maiden? What you have heard has not changed me; why should it change you? I am Elinor; I was Elinor this morning when you said you loved me when I had no estates, no title, no surname even. I don't want estates or title or surname ; I want your love."

"You have it, darling Elinor," said Frank; "but you don't see the difficulties of my position. The world will say I married you, not for yourself, but for position, money, and the like."

"And why should not the world say so, you foolish Frank? If you had married me without a farthing, the world would have laughed at your silliness; now it will envy your cleverness. Is either of the two worth consideration?"

"You only say what I quite believe, my own love; but I cannot help shrinking from the thought that people will fancy I had sordid reasons for marrying you."

"I'll

"O dear me, what a fuss about nothing!" cries Elinor. advertise in the Times that you asked me to marry you before you had the least idea of who I was. Will that do?"

Frank could not help laughing at her energy. Quite agreeing with her, his natural pride came in the way of his acting on what he knew to be the right principle. Besides, there was another consideration, which, after some hesitation, he communicated to

her.

"Elinor," he said, "another thing is that I fear Lord Delamere won't object."

"Well, Frank, that is an odd thing to fear. What can you

mean?"

"Simply this. Lord Delamere thinks he is bound to do all he

can for me, because he was unfortunate enough to kill my father in a duel."

"Your father, Frank?"

"Yes, the very day I was born. They were great friends, but quarrelled and fought about some trifle. Mr. Carington was there. That is what makes the Earl ask me here. Now if he would refuse me right out, I should say, 'Go to the devil! Elinor is mine, and I mean to have her.' But if he makes no objection in the world, I shall feel that he is giving you to me just because he happened to shoot my father."

"My dear cantankerous cross-grained Frank! I can so easily settle all that. I have only to ask the Earl to say that nothing shall induce him to sanction our marriage. He'll do it directly. He is just the sort of grandfather I like: I am so glad you have introduced him to me in that capacity."

"What a madcap you are, Elinor! Why will you not consider the matter seriously?"

"You foolish Frank," she said, putting her arm around him, "how can I be serious on the day that my own dear love has told me he loves me? Why it is the gayest day of my life, Frank. Do you mean to try and make me miserable on this day of all the days of my life? You shan't do it, sir."

Frank could not resist her joyous words, or the loving, laughing look of her happy eyes. He said,

"Elinor, you shall be mistress to-day. I will forget that you may

be a countess."

Just as he said this, a servitor came to say that Lord Delamere would be glad to see them. They went to his apartment at once, Elinor giving Frank a smile of gay encouragement. Of course they found Mr. Carington there : he indeed had been discussing the state of affairs with the Earl at considerable length, and it was agreed between them that this was the right time to put matters straight. There was silence for some time after they entered. Then the Earl spoke.

"It is a difficult thing, Frank Noel and Elinor Delamere, for an old man to tell two children like you that he has acted often foolishly and sometimes wickedly. Yet, when you are as old as I, perhaps you may have left something behind that you would willingly forget. Now I hear that you love one another. Elinor is my granddaughter; Frank is the son of my dearest friend. It is vain to mourn over the irretrievable past: the best amends I can make, standing on the verge of eternity, is to try to make you happy in the future. Carington has told you our family history, Frank: you, I suppose, have told Elinor."

"Well, you can when you have no better subject of discourse