and then he repented of his harshness. As he was going down the little garden, he stopped, and held out his hand.

"Rosie, my child, forgive me.. I have been horribly savage of late; poor little thing!" and he stroked the curly head, which was only too glad to lean against his shoulder in token of full reconciliation. I saw Sandford yesterday," he added. "He is living in hope, and is going to spend the winter with the old people at Stow, and he has begun a book of Alpine feats, which he is to write and I am to illustrate. Good night, little one!"

He thought he had seen the last of Irene; but the next morning, after a restless night, he turned out of the hotel, in the mists of the autumn morning, when scarcely a creature was stirring in the little village, and walked over the cliffs. Returning, he passed the churchyard, and went in. By a white marble cross a small figure was leaning, which struck him as at once familiar. He scarcely liked to intrude on Irene at such a moment, and was going to retreat, when she turned her head and saw him.

"You are out early," he said, going up to her.

"Yes; I have had a sleepless night; the poor child has suffered so much. I have scarcely left him, and I come here for a little refreshment almost every morning."

Sir Philip read the inscription on the slab, and saw that both her father and her mother were buried there.

"I come here to realize rest and peace," she said; "and it braces me for what I have to do. I like to think of them who rest not day or night in the service of Him whom they loved, and yet can never know weariness or tiredness again. The service of love which cannot be weary, must be the perfection of life."

eyes

Evidently she was very tired; for, as she spoke, her bent down upon the turf, where now a thousand dewdrops were sparkling in the eastern sunshine, which had just triumphed over the mists and fogs. He saw that her cheeks were very pale, and that on the long fringe of lashes, which rested on them, there was also dew, the dew of recent tears.

"You are doing too much," he said; "it ought not to be so."

"Oh! no; it is not too much," she answered. "I am not always so tired." She looked up at him, and there was an expression in his eyes which brought the colour back into her face, and in another minute she had drawn herself up to her full height, and said, in her natural tone-"Will you come home to breakfast? it is just nine o'clock."

"I ordered it at the hotel, thanks," he said; “ SO I suppose we must part here.”

Something like a shadow came into her dim eyes; but it passed away.

Good-bye," she said; "I will see that Rosie is at the coach office by ten o'clock. Thank you for smoothing the way for me to have her for this week; it has been such a help. Good-bye.”

So they parted. One going on in the path, which lay up the mountain side, ever higher and higher the ascent— so the world said; for honours and success seemed to come thick and fast on Sir Philip Dennistoun. The other-to her lowly, but appointed track, through the valley; taking up the way-side flowers of love and selfforgetfulness, and unconsciously weaving for her gentle brow a crown of unfading beauty; unconsciously to herself, too, being raised higher and higher on the wings

of faith and hope to Him whose loving-kindness is better than the life itself; who, for the meek and gentle souls, reserves a height of blessedness in the Eternal Kingdom of His Father, of which they little dream nor has it entered into their hearts to conceive.

CHAPTER X.

SIR JASPER ONCE MORE.

"O, learn to read what silent love hath writ,

To hear with eyes, belongs to love's fine wit!"
SHAKESPEARE.

ONE bright morning, early in January, Rosie Dennistoun came dancing into the drawing-room at Ecclestone Square, and rushed into Irene's arms, with all her wonted empressement.

"You are really come then. Isn't it delightful; and just in time for the great events which are coming off, and for the climax of the 28th, my birthday festivities, a dinner, and a dance; and heaps of people staying in the house at Rockdeane, and all kinds of fun. This drawingroom looks desolate without Cuthbert's sofa, I must say; how is he?"

"Much better," was the reply; "and in a month's time I hope he will be able to return with his mother. She is so glad to be with him again, and the change was good for Mary, who has not been very strong this winter, and, perhaps, just as well for every one."

"For you certainly, you look dreadfully pale and thin; but I daresay you will only begin to trudge about after the poor people, and wear yourself out with them. I shall not allow it, while

I am here, however. But we shall all be off to London the first week in February, I am afraid. Sir Philip Dennistoun, M.P., is anxious to take his seat, and we are all anxious to shine with borrowed lustre, as becomes his mother, sister, and brother. There has been a fuss with Jasper, of course," and Rosie's face became more serious; "he borrowed money of Frederick Tillett, and they have been going on so badly together. It came to Philip's ears, and we had an awful commotion; but I daresay Jasper will behave better now you are come; we all shall. You don't ask about the Rodham people. Lady Eugenia begins to droop a little, for, in spite of great friendship, and all the rest of it, Philip has not actually proposed to her. It is rather odd, and I don't understand it; but so it is. I don't think Philip knows his own mind."

"I should have thought no one knew it better," Irene said.

"Well, now we will talk about the twenty-eighth. I shall be nineteen, and we are going to make it an occasion for doing kindness to every one, before we go to London. What with the scarlet fever about the house, and having to go to London, every one has not been entertained as they ought to be. We are to have a succession of people staying with us, as I told you; and dinners to suit their various degrees. Mother is so great in the little distinctions now; and she has learned the whole ins and outs of Rodham, and the county, in the most wonderful way. We begin to-morrow with the first batch of people, and a dinner the day after. I want you to come for the whole time, will you?"

"Oh, no; most decidedly not," said Irene; "I have to look after Forster and the children, and there are