parallel, was to come to a terminus at a few fishermen's huts on the bleak sea-shore of Hurlestone. How came parliament to sanction such a speculation? Doubtless, solely because the energetic machinations of the directors prevented a refusal. These spirited persons talked largely of not only restoring Hurlestone to its former status as a district town, but of making it a fashionable watering-place. Not then being well versed in the local antiquities, I knew nothing of what Hurlestone once was, and cannot, therefore, now enlighten my readers on the decadence of its pristine glories to a string of mud huts.

The "little line" was to be begun ; and now that its antecedents are understood, it will easily be conceived with what interest the first turn of the sod was anticipated by those whom it concerned.

I was aroused almost at dawn that morning by such a rushing of many feet about the house, that I started from slumber, as the strong man of old might have done, at the cry, "the Philistines are on thee!" Presently a loud step approached my door, which was bombarded by the fist of Edmund Westerdale, the Squire's eldest son, (and the very impersonation of his progenitor), whom I had asked to give me a rap as he passed in the morning.

"All right! my boy," was my reply; on which Edmund departed, shouting as he moved away, "Put on your water-tights, Uncle John! We are in for a ducking to-day."

What a pros

It was raining in torrents. pect! And, to anticipated discomforts, I added, as I dressed, unpleasant reflections on the preceding evening. The after-dinner talk had been, as I expected, on the subject of a "few more shares,"- -some twenty, which must be taken up. Westerdale was most urgent, but he tried all arguments in vain, and at length got thoroughly vexed with my obstinacy; quoted examples of many men, not nearly so rich as Uncle John, who had come down handsomely and shown a little public spirit; and, finally, he brought his last crushing piece of artillery to bear.

and drank, "Success to our Little Line," almost repaid me: but one thinks so differently of things in the cool morning. However, "what's done cannot be undone;" so I dismissed the thought of the money I then verily believed I had lost.

We were concluding our hasty early breakfast, when in came Edmund with a face of great excitement. "Father," said he, "the mare's gone dead lame, so you will have to drive in the open carriage with the bay."

I felt a twinge of rheumatism in my joints at the prospect; yet so it was indeed; ten miles' drive in a shower-bath! Of course none of the ladies could go with us, much to the regret of Grace, who had seen little enough of Uncle John the night preceding, and had hoped for a pleasant drive with him to Eastborough.

The ceremony of turning the first sod was, of course, most edifying and imposing. The noble Lord Landeville and the Hon. Colonel Menzies, M. P., for East -shire, sallied forth, canopied by umbrellas, at the head of the procession of directors, and the few amateurs who were amphibious enough to venture out on that soaking day. Every now and then some one in the long line stuck in the mud, and the procession had to halt till the unfortunate man got free.

Α

At length all reached the field, and formed a circle round the destined spot of turf. few short speeches were made, which were literally drowned in the splashing rain, and then began an elbowing in the crowd, as the noble Lord prepared to show the engineers of the Eastborough and Hurlestone Railway how to set about their work. They did not learn much from him, however; for he tugged in vain at his mahogany-handled spade: the square of turf refused to be torn from its mother earth, though it had been loosened at the roots the previous day, and, wearied with his exertions, Lord Landeville was on the point of giving up the spade to a navvy who stood near, when a young man stepped close from my side, and making his way to the front, gracefully received the implement from his lordship, shook it loose from the stiff clay, and, laying it carefully aside, beckoned to the navvy to lend him the spade on which he was leaning. With that good tool he easily raised the earth, placed it in the wheelbarrow, which he wheeled for a few yards, and then deposited the contents on the greensward, midst the vociferous "hurrahs" of the crowd.

A A

"Success to the Eastborough and Hurlestone Railway," said Lord Landeville; and, added Colonel Menzies, "A cheer for Mr. Northcote; and may he end his labours as successfully as he has begun them!"

The young man bowed to the tribute of the gallant colonel, and, as he stepped back, I had full leisure to observe his face. I never was more pleased at first-sight: such a fine, open brow, shaded with rich brown hair, and his penetrating eyes riveted my attention. His complexion was dark, almost as a Spaniard's, yet glowing with health and vigour.

"We've got an engineer that knows how to handle his tools," said Westerdale to me. "You have," I replied. "Introduce me

to him."

The procession scarcely re-formed to return to the town, so anxious was every one to be under cover from the inclement sky; so, after shaking hands with the colonel on the bargain of the ten shares, I did the same with Westerdale, astonishing him by declining decidedly to return to Somerton, and sending word to Grace to expect me with the partridges. The fact was, I had been thoroughly victimized in the whole affair; and as my teeth chattered and my limbs shook with the chill that had seized me while standing on the wet grass, I felt that I was in the grasp of my old enemy, the rheumatism, and that the sooner I put myself under the care of my good landlady in Russell Square, the less likely I should be to rue the day I saw the first sod turned on my brother's little line.

Now, as I have not taken in hand the full, true, and particular history of Uncle John, and his sufferings for other people, I must, therefore, touch lightly on the fact, that the result of my soaking at Eastborough was a six weeks' martyrdom to aches and pains indescribable; and, assuring the public, as I did the anxious inquiries of my little Grace, that in less than three months I regained the ordinary use of my limbs, I will once more conduct them to Eastborough, by express, one glorious day in September. I knew the autumn face of Somerton well; for year by year I roamed through its woods and over its stubble fields to lessen the population of its feathered tribes. As for Westerdale, though few had been keener sportsmen than he in his manufacturing days, yet as soon as ever he became possessed of preserves of his own, he lost his relish for dog

and gun; and, leaving the enjoyments of the field to others, he plunged head and ears, as I have said, into schemes for the public good. This year I could not certainly expect, after my severe illness, to tramp about as usual; but change was recommended, so I went down for a month to Somerton. All was railway bustle and excitement there. The little line was pushing on fast, under the skilful management of Mr. Northcote. Westerdale had contracted to supply fir poles for sleepers, and stone for the Somerton station, which accounted for the quarry opened almost in front of his drawing-room windows, and the tram-road across his park. There was no getting him to speak a word at breakfast till the post-bag came in, and when it had been opened, there was still less chance of breaking through that barricade of long blue envelopes, bearing on their superscription, "E. and H. R.," or "Eastborough Union," or the designations of other public institutions, the anxieties of which were fast grooving wrinkles on Westerdale's brow. I therefore drew to the head of the table, and chatted away with my nephews and nieces; and every now and then, as the mirth of the little ones broke forth in a merry laugh at Uncle John's fun, a sharp, absent kind of "hush?" from papa lulled them for a moment, till some fresh joke from Edmund or another of the boys set them off into fits again.

"Grace," said her father, rising to leave the breakfast table one morning, shortly after my arrival, "Colonel Menzies and Mr. Northcote, and two of the directors will dine here to-night, so arrange accordingly. Under the circumstances, you will dine with us as well as Julia."

"Which, under the circumstances," added Edmund, as his father closed the door behind him, "will be the most agreeable thing imaginable. Only Julia will be so jealous,-won't she, Uncle John ?-to see her younger sister take the precedence, escorted by the gallant colonel."

"Edmund! hush!" said Grace in a hollow tone, and, as I looked round the teaurn to catch a glimpse of her face, I was startled by its pale, troubled look. She caught my eye, and, flushing crimson, rose abruptly and left the room.

"Ah! she's shy, is little Grace," pursued Edmund. "She'll learn to be proud of that grim-visaged son of Mars by-and-bye, however."

"None," replied Westerdale, "but the misfortune of having just had a most advantageous offer. In short, Colonel Menzies has proposed to marry her.”

"Preposterous !" I exclaimed, indignant at the thought of such an incongruous union for my darling Grace.

66 Why so?" said her father. "Grace is young and pretty, and so forth; but, as one of ten children, she is no heiress. Colonel Menzies is not young, certainly; and as for looks, why, handsome is that handsome does; and I conceive he quite compensates for any deficiency in those two points, by the position and distinction he will confer upon my daughter, when he makes her mistress of that noble Abbey of Kirklands."

"And what does Grace say to all this?" I inquired, shocked at the cool worldliness of my brother's tone.

"She is prudent enough to say nothing, but to acquiesce in her father's will. Of course she was a good deal surprised, perhaps frightened, when I first told her of the colonel's offer, and ventured something about not loving him, and other such speeches; but I assured her the colonel had done the thing in the handsomest way. He will not press the marriage for a year, as Grace is not eighteen, and meantime she will learn to like him, I am sure, and to feel proud of the attentions of an Honourable."

It was in vain that I watched for Grace that livelong day, exposing myself to the draught of the open drawing-room door all the afternoon, hoping to catch her as she crossed the hall she kept aloof, and not a word could I exchange with her about this momentous affair.

I am generally first at a dinner party, and so it happened, that I was sitting with Westerdale in the drawing-room, when Colonel Menzies was announced. Tall he was, uniting to a form of iron, a face of brass; hard featured, sallow, yet withal aristocratic in bearing, and his head vener

able with the weight of more than fifty summers. He had scarcely seated himself, when the door opened, and the tall and elegant Julia entered, followed by Grace and Edmund. The colonel advanced with the precision of parade, and just touching the proffered hand of Julia, whispered, as he passed her; "The fair Julia will excuse me seeking out the lesser light." He then raised the passive hand of Grace and pressed it to his lips, bending his high head very low to do so, while from the long, dark lashes of my darling, a heavy tear fell to the ground. She trembled so much that her father came towards her, and, in a tone he meant to be most encouraging, said, as he smiled at the colonel, "Better friends by-and-bye, eh! Grace ?”

Presently the other gentlemen arrived, and my eyes gladdened at the sight of Mr. Northcote's intellectual countenance in that group of anxious "little lineists." The colonel gave his arm to Grace, and led her in silence to the head of the dinner table, while Mr. Northcote, evidently surprised at the carrying off of the younger sister, whom he had expected to be his partner, stood looking on while Julia was led off by one of the directors. By good fortune young Northcote sat by me, and, as we conversed together, my opinion of him rose higher and higher. He purposely avoided the "little line" topic while the ladies were present, and now and then drew a smile from Grace by his well-told anecdotes. Julia sat stiffly through it all she was an insipid sort of girl, never taking an interest in anything that I could see, except in cuting holes and mending them, again, which young ladies now-a-days call "embroidery." She left all the household cares to Grace, and rather than have the fatigue of playing hostess, gave up her birthright at her father's table.

When Grace had dispensed the tea in the drawing-room, Mr. Northcote very urgently entreated for music; and her face brightened at his request. She opened the piano, and had already passed her fingers over a few chords, when her father went to the instrument, and whispered reproachfully, "My love, you forget the colonel does not like music."

Poor Grace started and looked at Colonel Menzies, white with fear; while Mr. Northcote gazed at her in astonishment, which only embarrassed her the more.

66

Why are you to bar the spirits?” said

he. "Is there to be an end of our pleasant evenings, Miss Westerdale?"

"No, I hope not," replied Grace earnestly, and then blushed deeply as she recollected she was engaged to a musichater.

"I am sorry to prevent Miss Westerdale's enjoyment," said the colonel; and, as Westerdale suggested that there was a fire in the library, the "little line" clique followed him thither to discuss cigars and shares, leaving the young people to the piano and Uncle John.

"Grace, you are wonderfully improved,” said I, after listening to an elaborate performance of hers as accompaniment to Mr. Northcote's flute. "Have you been taking her in hand lately, Northcote ?'

"I found her a musician, when I first knew her, Mr. Fellowes," he replied; "but nothing fosters talent like sympathy. We have played a great deal together, and have mutually benefited each other."

"Grace would negative that 'mutually' apparently, by that shake of the head," I replied.

"She need not," said Mr. Northcote : "it is true; but we will not talk of it now. Sing, Miss Westerdale, 'Das erste Veilchen.""

And Grace sang so sweetly, with an accent and style quite new to me, while Mr. Northcote joined me on the sofa, and watched her with interest equal to my own, whispering at the close of the song, as though interpreting my thoughts; "She is your favourite, Mr. Fellowes? I am glad."

I watched the parting of those two that night, and vowed by my lares and penates, that, if Uncle John could prevent it, Grace should never be the mistress of Kirklands Abbey.

"Walk with me, Grace, down to the railway, to see what progress the little line is making," said I, the next day when my niece had dispatched her morning duties in the house and we went together. We were long silent; I afraid to trust my old bachelor footsteps on the tender ground of a young girl's love, and Grace actually trembling, as her hand rested on my arm, with anxiety either to hide from or to confide in me the same delicate matter.

"Come, Grace," I began at length, abruptly, storming a fortress appearing always more satisfactory to me, than besieging it, "tell Uncle John all

"Mr. Northcote," she replied, ingenuously.

"And does he love you?" I asked. Here Grace bent her head, and said dis tinctly, yet with an effort; "Uncle, I don't know. I can't be sure that he does." I smiled at the frank confession of the young girl. I knew it was made in solemn confidence to me, as she would have made it to no other on earth, and I felt that I was between the horns of a dilemma. I dared not encourage her love, little as I doubted Mr. Northcote's intentions. "Young men ever were fickle found," thought I to myself. Better she should taste the discipline, than lean hopes. "Grace," I said, are you aware how angry your father would be if he knew what you have confessed to me to-day "

66

on false

"Yes, oh yes," she replied in deep grief: "that is why I would rather die, because I dare not tell him. Oh! why did Colonel Menzies choose me ? Why not Julia? She could like him; at least, well enough to keep his house, and that is all he wants; and I-I could not do it."

"Has Julia said she could like him!" I inquired; a new light breaking in upon

me.

"Yes," said Grace; and then, fearful that she had betrayed her sister, she entreated me to forget that she had told me.

We talked long and earnestly, walking so far, meantime, that at length the blue line of ocean was in sight; and, standing on a rising ground, we could see a few miles from us the ruined church of Hurlestone,

the terminus of the little line. We sat down to rest awhile, and presently heard footsteps approaching. It was a couple of gypsies, real southern gypsies, with sunburnt faces and raven hair. Grace started; but I bid her not fear, and the women came

on.

"Missie cross my hand with silver, and I'll tell ye something ye'll like to know;" said the younger of the two, speaking rapidly and looking close into Grace's eyes. I bantered the swarthy creature on her vain pretensions; but she had such a winning, earnest way about her, and Grace, losing her fear, took such a fancy to hear what the woman would say, that I e'en gave the shilling, and listened to the torrent of words that at once poured from her lips. I cannot write them here; but Grace and I were alike startled by part of the gypsy's prophecy. No doubt the woman knew us: her race are sharp at picking up and dove-tailing intelligence; and she told me that her camp had been a week in the neighbourhood.

66

Missie," said she at last, slowly and distinctly, an old man will try to catch you for his gilded cage; but bide your time! Bide your time, missie,-bide your time and a younger than he will make a fool of him, and the bells of Hurlestone tower shall ring at your wedding!"

Arriving at this improbable conclusion, the gypsy turned abruptly away, and strode along the path to rejoin her companion.

"Well, Uncle John," said Grace gaily, "that is odd, isn't it? She might well say, 'bide your time;' for long enough I shall have to bide indeed, if I wait for the bells of Hurlestone tower to ring my wedding chime."

"Well, Grace, if half is true, believe the other half will be. Don't vex your father by opposing him. Accept the presents of the colonel, (he will not bore you with his attentions), and bide your time,' as the gypsy said.

But, give no encouragement to Mr. Northcote, mind that ; and as soon as possible let him know of your engagement."

"Oh! Uncle John," cried Grace, almost in tears, "he will think I love the colonel, or, seeing that I do not, will he not despise me for my double dealing? ?"

"It is a hard case, Grace; but again I say, there is nothing for it but to bide your time.""

Months passed on. Autumn darkened

Of

into winter, and winter budded into spring; when, in the leafy month of June, again came an imperative letter from my brotherin-law, written in the height of his triumph and success. The "little line" was on the point of completion-at least, for all practical purposes; and on the first of July it was to bear its first train from Eastborough, weighty with the whole body of directors and shareholders, who were thus to open it, under the auspices of the noble Lord Landeville and the Hon. Colonel Menzies, M.P. course, Uncle John was formally and specially invited to honour with his presence, the banquet to be given at Hurlestone, on the day of the opening; and little as he felt inclined to give up his ease at home for the bustle and discomforts of such a day, he consented to do so for the sake of her who wrote thus entreatingly to him: "DEAR UNCLE JOHN,-You bade me bide my time, and I have done so; but all to no purpose. Papa tells me and I dare not answer him again that, on the day of the opening, he will require me to fulfil my engagement with Colonel Menzies, and fix the day for my marriage. Come, Uncle John, and save me if you can."

Alas! poor Uncle John!-the family burden-bearer. Sure, never did young love press a more sleepless pillow, pondering over its own anxieties, than did the grey head of Uncle John, planning contrivances to oust that ancient warrior, and yet appease the angered father. Had he thought less of his own manoeuvrings, and trusted more to nature and to truth, he might have slept in peace; for, without his planning, his bird was to be set free.

The eventful day arrived. Colonel Menzies drove early from Kirklands to breakfast at Somerton, having engaged to convey Westerdale to Eastborough, there to join Lord Landeville and the directors in the first train that skimmed the little line. Grace was, of course, condemned to the barouche, and Julia followed; and Uncle John obeyed an impulse to mount the box and go with them, in spite of the earnest entreaties of the younger fry, who, under the championship of Edmund, were to await the arrival of the first train at the Somerton station, and to join us as passengers there. Who shall describe the glories of the Eastborough station on that triumphant day? Flora was the genius there. She hung, gracefully twining, on every pole, and over