"I have been to mamma, to tell her, Irene," she began. "To tell her what?"

"Oh, you must know! You must guess! And she is so dreadful about it ; and she says that when he comes to her to-morrow to ask her consent, she will never, never give it. That, if I like to marry him without, I may; and that, perhaps, Philip may like to give me away, and all that; and oh, heaps of nonsense about Sir Philip Dennistoun's sister, and all the unheard-of people I might marry; and calling him a gentleman farmerhe who might have taken a double first at Oxford, and did come out first in classics-and a year ago, Irene, it would have been thought a grand thing for me. Oh, Irene, tell me what I ought to do."

It was the old, old story. Too vehement and marked an opposition had set the force of the current strong in the opposite direction.

"I wish I could get at Philip," she went on; "he is sure to be wise and kind. I can trust Philip; wouldn't you, Irene ?"

"Yes; and all may yet go well," Irene said, tenderly. "Sit down, poor child; you will make yourself ill.”

"I feel ill," said poor Rosie. "My head has been aching all day, and I have got a horrid pricking in my throat. Oh, Irene, I have been so happy! why should I be made miserable by mamma? and all because a man a thousand times too good for me, loves me; and has loved me, he says, for years-ever since I was thirteen. Only think of that."

A smile-almost her own sunny smile-broke over Rosie's tear-stained face as Irene made her lie back in her comfortable chair, and bathed her forehead with Eau de Cologne.

"What would you do," Rosie asked, presently, "if you were in my place? You couldn't unlove anyone because you were told."

"No," Irene said, "I could not unlove. I should love on the same; but I could never have married anyone against my mother's will."

"I suppose you have had plenty of opportunities of being married, though you are twenty-four and are engaged to no one?"

"Yes, I might have married," Irene answered; "but I don't know that I ever really loved any one in the sense you mean; certainly no one who has loved me!"

"How funny," said Rosie. "Oh, my head aches so dreadfully."

"You had better go to bed, Rosie. Let me come to your room, and help you; shall I ?”

"Oh, I should like it, only that tiresome Evans is hanging about there. My hair has not been brushed yet, and I shall so hate her seeing how red my eyes are. I will go and send her away, and then will you come ?"

"Very well," said Irene; "I will come if you wish." "Come in ten minutes," Rosie said, as she left the room; "and be quiet, because I don't want mamma to hear us."

When Irene went to Rosie, she found her in a fresh burst of crying, which was so violent as to be almost hysterical. A few gentle, firm words were effectual, however, and the poor child lay down in her bed, saying,"I'll try to be quiet. Please say my prayers for me; and then would you sleep with me?"

Irene did as she was asked, and afterwards lay down by Rosie; but she tossed and turned from side to side all night. The only thing that quieted her was to hold

Irene's hand in hers. As morning dawned, she fell into a troubled uneasy sleep; and at eight o'clock, when Evans appeared with a cup of tea, according to custom, she started up in terror, and said she had had such horrid dreams. Irene was not at all satisfied with her flushed face and general appearance; and when she sipped the tea, she said her throat was so sore she could not swallow it. Then she made an effort to get up and dress; and Irene left her to Evans' care, and went to her own room to prepare for breakfast. She had not been there more than five minutes, when Evans came to the door, and said, "Miss Dennistoun is very faint; will you come back, Miss Clifford ?"

Irene obeyed; and found that Evans had summoned Mrs. Dennistoun, who had ordered Rosie to return to her bed; and was, when Irene went into the room, sitting at the table, with the pen in her hand, writing a note to ask Dr. Simpson to come to Rockdeane.

CHAPTER VIII.

LIGHT AND SHADE.

"GOD's fashion is another; day by day

And year by year He tarrieth; little need

The Lord should hasten; whom He loves the most
He seeks not oftenest, nor wooes him long;

But by denial quickens his desire,

And in forgetting best remembers him ;

Till that man's heart grows humble, and reaches out
To the least glimmer of the feet of God,

Grass on the mountain tops, or the early note
Of wild birds in the hush before the day,—
Wherever sweetly in the ends of the earth,
Are fragments of a peace that knows not man.'
F. W. H. MYERS, from "ST. JOHN."

DR. SIMPSON came with all speed to Rockdeane to answer Mrs. Dennistoun's summons. He prescribed for Rosie; was rather hazy and vague in his opinion of her; and gently hinted that an infantile disease might be impending.

"What do you apprehend, Dr. Simpson ?" asked Mrs. Dennistoun. "Rosie and Jasper have both had measles."

"Yes; well, we must not look forward too anxiously. These feverish symptoms may be the result of exposure in the hot sun, yesterday, which is unusually hot for the time of year."

M

"I have no doubt that imprudent pic-nic to Derwentwater, in the heat of the day, is the cause of Rosie's illness, Philip!" Mrs. Dennistoun said, as she went to the library to communicate the result of Dr. Simpson's visit.

"Really!" said Sir Philip; "does the old Esculapius say as much? If you have got him to give you a direct answer to a question you have been very clever; but I hope there is not much amiss with the poor child."

This most foolish

"She is very feverish and excited. fancy she has taken about Mr. Sandford is really most trying. She is too young to think of marriage, and she has seen nothing of the world; moreover I do not wish to encourage Mr. Sandford.”

"Have you told him so?" Philip asked.

"I have not had the opportunity; I wish you would prepare him for my determination. It will make it so much easier for me."

"He seems to have made his own cause good with Rosie." Philip said; "and really, though I agree with you about her youth being an objection; and also concede that she has seen little or nothing of the world; still, I do not think Sandford is the man to repulse without sufficient reason."

"Well; at any rate, you are going away with him to-day," said Mrs. Dennistoun, "for a walking expedition, and if you bring him back

"I must know your mind decidedly before I do bring him back," said Sir Philip, in that resolute tone of his ; "there must be no playing fast and loose with a man like him."

"You are a warm firm friend, Philip, every one knows. Well; we will see how Rosie gets on. I have left Miss