seamstress felt their loveliness as a sculptor would have done.

In pulling off her hat, a long heavy curl had coiled itself down her neck; and Ursula, giving it an impatient dash on one side, had left it in a rich wave on the left shoulder that gleamed out from under it like lilies in the shade.

Down upon those glistening shoulders went the blue silk, rustling, floating, and settling around in soft shining folds. Then the corsage was fitted to the slender supple waist; buttons of Roman pearl, pear-shaped, fastened it over the bust, and gleamed out of the frostlike lace. Such a tangle of blue and lace, that looked like floating mist, did duty for a sleeve, scarcely concealing the curve where the shoulder melted into the turn of the arm.

'Let me look! Let me look! Quick!' cried the impatient girl. 'I feel like a queen-let me see if I look like one.'

She pushed the dressmaker aside, and went up to an old-fashioned glass in a tarnished frame, which was the chief ornament of the room.

Hold up the light-higher! There! Oh, isn't it lovely?'

'I thought you would like it,' said the dressmaker, pleased that her work was appreciated. 'See, this is a better light.'

She was standing a little on one side, holding up a candle that shed its flickering gleam alike on both of them.

All at once Ursula dropped her hands from the lace she was arranging on her bosom, and fastened her hugh black eyes with a curious steady stare on the mirror. Then she turned and faced the other haughtily.

'What on earth can be the reason?' she began, and then she stopped. 'I can't understand how it can be,' she went on, in an audible

mutter.

'What is it anything wrong about the dress? I thought it so beautiful,' the workwoman asked timidly, colouring painfully. She had no idea what her customer meant by her searching glance and high-and-mighty tone.

Phoo! I am a fool-don't mind me!' was the brusque reply. 'Don't you see that you and I are as like as two peas? I don't believe any one could tell the difference between us?'

It was true; there was no denying it. Two faces were never more alike than the two that the oldfashioned tarnished-framed mirror reflected back. The same tall shapely figures too, the same rounded busts and supple waists; eyes large, black, and luminous; features without flaw; lips pouting and scarlet; but the expression was different. Eyes, features, and scarlet mouth were unutterably softer in the dressmaker than in the haughty headerect girl who stood in her silken sheen, with the lurid light still glowing in her dusky pupils.

'I like you! You are laughing, miss.' But the words were forced and untruthful, and the speaker tried to turn the subject by reverting to the dress.

But the dress is it not lovely?'

'Yes; one would think I had grown into it, too,' answered Ursula, once more absorbed in her own transcendent charms. 'I want a necklace though, and my arms need bracelets-lots of them.'

'No, no! The effect would be destroyed. A few moss roses on the shoulder, a few in the hair, and you will be perfect.'

'That is what he said! Strange that two people should have exactly the same taste!'

'Have I been agreeing with some gentleman?' said the dressmaker, blushing a little as she fastened a button. It is a mere chance if I

'Are you married, then ?' asked the dressmaker, feeling a strange interest in the subject.

'Married-I! Good gracious! do I look like a married woman ?' Ursula broke into a peal of mocking laughter as she spoke, but her face and neck turned scarlet. She began to unfasten her dress quickly, and with an unwonted energy, as though something had made her angry.

'I must make haste,' she exclaimed, or your father will be coming in and catching me.'

'No fear of that, miss,' answered the other girl, with a sigh. He is seldom here; business keeps him away from me.'

'Just like my father! Will you do up the parcel as small as you can? I want to carry it under my cloak. You must have your money. How much?'

She thrust one hand into her bosom, and drew forth a large roll of notes.

How much?' she repeated. The dressmaker coloured again. She always did colour receiving money somehow, and she mentioned a moderate sum, which surprised and even half offended her

customer.

Ursula had heard the ladies' at the dancing classes speak boastfully regarding the enormous bills sent in by their modistes, as if extravagance was a cardinal virtue and something to be proud of, and the moderation angered her. So she fluttered her crisp little fivepound notes over and over, in

order to convince the humble workwoman that she was one who could well afford to pay tremendous prices. Then taking about three times the amount demanded, she put it carelessly on the table, saying lightly,

เ

There, that's about the right amount, I fancy. Don't look ashamed; I shall not take a penny of change. The work is done beautifully. I am well satisfied; and, in fact, another sovereign might be thrown in. There, no thanks or blushes. Good-evening. I will call again soon. There is something I can't quite make out; there is something that puzzles me.'

'Is there? I cannot think what. I have given no receipt, miss. I don't know the name.'

'Oh, never mind; I will soon come again. This blue silk isn't the only dress I shall want by a long way, you'll see.'

Ursula seized the parcel, drew her cloak well over it, and went out so elated with her new possession that she almost hugged the bundle in her arms.

'I hope no one will be at home and insist on seeing what's in this. Well, if they did, I would brave it out.'

Just then a tall man, who had been walking behind her, came forward boldly and spoke her name almost in a whisper.

Ursula started, screamed faintly, and nearly dropped her precious burden.

'Good heavens, Mr. Lock, is it you? How you have frightened me!'

'Yes, my beautiful Ursula, it is me. But what are you doing out alone at this late hour?'

'Late, is it? I didn't know.' 'With a huge parcel too, Ursula!'

'It is my dress-the ball-dress, you know. I could not have it sent because of father seeing it.'

'Is that it? Well, we are close now, so run in, leave that enormous bundle, and, Ursula, mind you come out again; I have something to say to you.'

'Do not wait for me too near the house, then,' was Ursula's reply. So that it will be seen that Bernard Keane's wife was in the habit of meeting John Lock oftener than her father or her husband dreamt of.

CHAPTER XXVI.

NELL RUMINATES.

'IT is not lovely, did you say, Miss Ursula? My goodness! and Nell smoothed down the folds of the Cashmere shawl tenderly with both her tiny hands. 'Did you say that the colours were not bright?' she went on, in a deeply aggrieved tone. Why, only just look how every thread gives a colour to the next; how they sort of go into one another and grow softer and -and- Well, if I can't find words to talk of it, I know that the shawl is worth lots-worth ever so much more than those common red and yellow and blue things that glisten so, and cut such a dash, but are only trumpery after all. Look, Miss Ursula; this shawl is made of ever so many square pieces, worked by ever so many people, who stitched away at it for a whole year like slaves. It's just like a patchwork quilt, you know; that's the way they are made in the East Ingies. This particular one was made for one of those fellows they call a Grand Pacher, and he gave it to the father of a friend of mine, and she has kept it ever since in a beautiful large box, shut up close as wax, so that it shouldn't see the daylight, poor thing!'

The child said the last words compassionately. It was evident

that amongst her few blessings 'daylight' was one greatly prized.

'If I were to tell you how much this cost, it would take away your breath quite.'

Ursula, who had been regarding the object in discussion with a supercilious curl of her scarlet lips, really believing it to be deficient in the colour and brilliancy which her crude and coarse taste demanded in all things, now gave her attention more earnestly to the really costly fabric, considerably impressed by Nell's evident reverence for it. Yes, yes; I see. On inspecting it properly one does see that the texture is superfine; a little knotty, however, on the wrong side, isn't it? A pity it is!'

Knotty!' cried the child, tossing her small head of fair hair scornfully; of course it's knotty! That is the very proof that the shawl was made out in the Ingies. The blacks likes knotty things, you know ?'

'Oh, yes; now I see!' admitted Ursula, quite humbly subdued by Nell's superior knowledge of foreign parts. And how much did you

say it cost?'

Somewhere about one hundred guineas,' replied the little creature, bending down her face to hide the red flush of shame at the fib she fancied she was telling. It was for Mrs. Keane, for a good cause, she thought to herself-salving down the twinge her upright mind experienced.

'One hundred guineas!'

Ursula rounded her huge black eyes, and let a low dubious whistle escape from her lips. Her pupils, expanding with amazement, were turned steadily upon the child, and a doubtful smile curled her mouth.

'Fudge' she said contemptuously. One hundred guineas' worth, and left to you to sell! Nell, Nell, it won't do! You can't deceive me!'

'That means, Miss Ursula, that you don't believe me!' exclaimed Nell, with her small face all aflame with anger, and her pretty blue eyes full of indignation. I am much obliged to you, I am sure; but, though you may think me a cheat, this shawl is worth one hundred guineas, and I have got it to sell. Shouldn't you like to buy it now? Shouldn't you like to have so much money in the wide, wide world?' and the child laughed an irritating mocking laugh.

'Perhaps I could buy it if I wished!' Ursula said, flushing with wrath.

'Exactly! Perhaps you could, if you liked! One hundred guineas would be nothing to you! Oh, no!'

Ursula clenched her large hand, and set her white teeth in rage; at which Nell held up a tiny finger rebukingly, and remarked, in a grave admonitory manner worthy of her grandmother, 'We should not let our tempers get the better of us, Miss Ursula-it's wrong!

'Angry! I am not angry. What is it to you, you provoking brat, whether I have money or not?'

'Nothing, of course; only I know you haven't.'

'And so you think I could not buy that shawl, even if I wished?'

'I know, of course, that you cannot. I wish you could, for it's beautiful; the colours shine up like the wing of a lovely foreign bird just like those in the shop down in East Street. This shawl is worth what I said; but no one round here will give it, so if you can pay fifty guineas for it, it is yours.'

'And you think I can't raise so much ?'

'O Miss Ursula and Nell laughed mischievously, making a little red cherry of her mouth. 'We shall see!' 'Yes; we shall see!'

The child was dreadfully provoking with her pert shake of the head, and the knowing look in her eyes. At any rate, Ursula's extravagant vanity was roused, and she felt herself almost insulted. The love of spending money, too, had grown dreadfully strong within her. There is no feeling more intoxicating than that of squandering money to a person whose whole life has been a series of privations.

'If the sum required for that shawl would kill you, you insolent little morsel, I would get it somehow!' she exclaimed, flinging herself impatiently out of the violinist's attic.

'I shouldn't much care if it did hurt me a little, so long as I could serve the lady,' muttered Nell, lifting up the gorgeous shawl in both hands with infinite difficulty, and becoming almost lost in its ample folds; but so much money isn't to be found in this part of the town, I know. What shall I do? What can I do? If I had told Mrs. Keane it could not be managed, she would have given it up, and nigh broke her poor heart. The first word I spoke that way made her grow white as the snow. Poor thing, poor thing! and she was so good to her. I would die to help her. But nobody will believe this thing is worth so much. I didn't believe it myself until I heard how long it took making, and what a lot of people were at it, and how far it was carried on those ugly camels' backs. I wonder why camels are so long-necked and so humpy. I take it they are from what she said about them. Curious how much she knows! shall I do about this?'

Oh, what

The child gave a deep sigh, dragged the whole of the shawl on to the table, and folding her arms upon it, laid down her head upon them in utter despondency. How much she was put to in the mat

ter may be divined by her appeal to Ursula ; an appeal which seemed to her as ridiculous as crying for the moon.

While she sat despondent and almost crying, Ursula came upstairs, and bursting open the door violently, stood on the threshold flushed, panting, and with saucy triumph flashing out of her beautiful dark face.

'Here's the money-fifty pounds. Give me the shawl; and remember, if it's not worth the money, I'll give you up to the police, or my name is not Ursula' She stopped, blushed-'Not what it is,' she added after a miuute.

She held up as she spoke a bundle of bank-notes, which she opened and fluttered tauntingly before Nell's astonished gaze. Struck dumb with amazement, never before had the child's eyes been so large or her honest little face so bewildered. She clutched the shawl, and held it tightly against her, as though determined to guard it against everybody, and gasping, reached out the other hand.

'Let me see first-let me look! Are they real, quite real?'

'You shall not look at them until I know if the shawl is real. Let me have it; I want some one who is a judge to tell me if you are dealing honestly with me.'

Ursula with her superior strength pulled the shawl out of the small arms, and gathered it up close in

her own.

The child trembled with fright at the precious fabric being taken out of her sight. Catching hold of one corner, she clung to it like grim Death, with blanched cheeks.

'Tell me,' she pleaded; 'is it Mr. Keane who wants to see it?'

For an instant Ursula was fairly taken aback. She partly dropped the shawl on the table, and the bright crimson left her face-even her lips; but she recovered herself

with a curt unpleasant laugh, and huddled it up close once more.

'No, it is not Mr. Keane !' she answered defiantly. 'What on earth do such as he know of such things, and what is his opinion to me, I should just like to know?'

Nell was relieved, and loosened her grasp. She was sure that Mrs. Keane would not wish her son to know of the sacrifice she was making.

'Aud, Nell, more than that,' Ursula went on, exhibiting a degree of anxiety that satisfied the little girl of her earnestness, I particularly don't want him or father or anybody else to know that I have bought this. If I take it, you must promise that it shall be a dead secret between you and me.'

Nell made no answer, save a little nod of her head. But when Ursula had left the room she began to ruminate, with her elbows on the table and her shrewd small face supported on her hands.

'Where on earth did she get that money? Mr. Pierce ain't got any, I know. Can she earn it by cutting those pictures and words on stone and steel? Maybe she does. But anyhow, it's none of my business, so long as the notes are real. Only it's awful, awful queer!'

CHAPTER XXVII.

SERPENT COILS.

URSULA went back to her own room, and found John Lock lounging on the shabby old sofa, his eyes half closed, and a strong cigar in his mouth. He was an ugly man, and his hair and beard were thickly sprinkled with gray; but there was a world of resolution in his-square-cut jowl and thin lips, and a conscious power about him that had a peculiar fascination for