Among the many City friends whom Walter, at the Marquis's request, had brought down to Trememdon, were St. Peter Gallwood and his daughter Tabitha. When Lady Beatrice had been safely and quietly deposited on the sofa in the hall drawing-room of the Castle, Tabitha had only just left the Ghost's Walk.

Now Tabitha was three things. First, she was an incipient cat; second, she was red-haired; and third, a Saintess in her father's right.

Lady Beatrice was the belle of the ball. Little wonder then that Tabitha was allowed to enjoy in silence the remark that, 'It's all very fine, that Lady Beatrice shamming like that! She won't get over me if she does Mr. Osborne! ugh!

When the untoward incident was given out by some to have been owing to the results of a fall from which she had only lately recovered, and that she dearly loved dancing, and felt the deprivation acutely, Tabitha was again heard to moralise, 'How indeed could that be, when she had been overheard to exclaim in high tones only a minute before that "she hated waltzing—that she did!"? ugh! ugh!'

The motives which had influenced Walter in bringing 'such persons' down to Trememdon did not all at once appear. Ralph had looked the picture of savage misery in the drawing-room. 'Birdie,' I heard him fondly whisper, must I go?

Sir, you've heard the purling brook upon a summer's day? That was Birdie's 'yes.' Her long hair hung around her neck and shoulders, down far below her waist. Moist with the water which had been freely thrown upon her, it mingled now with Ralph's. And with that 'yes' there trembled forth from out her lips a perfume all her own! The Marchioness was still asleep beside them. Throwing his arms around her, I saw his manly lips hover about those cheeks so plump and round; and then their range got closer-near the teaniest, wee-est- Oh, sir, but I tore myself away, although I was a Spectre, nor back came I until with safety I could venture. The boy was saying, 'Then must I go? Well, I may go whirling round, but I shall not dance again to-night!'

The Marchioness now awoke, and said she would stay with Birdie; he mournfully left the room.

'There'th thomething wrong with Othborne-thee now, Othie, how wild and odd he lookth to-night!' One pair of dark, glittering eyes alone of all assembled there possessed a charm for Ralph.

'My cousin Geraldine-my brother Ralph;' and in the next

moment Walter had handed his cousin Geraldine Ogilvie to his brother. Ralph began to wonder, as he now detected a slight cast in her eyes, whether it was that which so intensified the fascination of her glance. 'And what a figure for the fastest

waltz thinks he.

They were soon pacing down the saloon together, and she was racy, and he immersed in thought.

'And how is darling Beatrice?' she asked.

'How dangerously her bright eyes glitter!' thinks he. 'I'll go where she will lead me anyhow!' then asks, 'Have you a dance for me? give me your programme.'

He looks. 'Your next's with Walter too; I am unfortunate.' 'No, not at all; Walter will give it up to you.'

She beckons him. Ralph saunters off, but soon returning, 'Good God! why, damn the fellow!' I heard him mutter, 'there's Walter's old, old look-more weird, more diabolical than ever! the old fatal expression! It draws his eyes,—it lifts the corners of his mouth! And this my brother!-the son of my own dear mother!'

6

In an excited manner he gazed around. Retreating, he muttered, Ah! shall I now hear that voice dart through canvas?' Closely followed by Geraldine, he hurried off. She came up smiling. Quick, quick! we're all behind, the music has begun!

Again a gorgeous pair of eyes confronts him. Her pliant form and his are blending into one; the syren yields to his warm, strong embrace he dares not speak lest he should break the spell. Down the long saloon they glide. Step moves with step, as though ethereal were the tread. During the light and softer tones the ecstatic harmony pervades his soul-thoughts, feelings, senses, each enthralled!

All stand aside. The waltz is done. Yet wilder music flows. Ralph notes the change. She listens not, but once he glances round. They're near the band, where Maxwell's chatting gaily to the chief. And Ralph and Geraldine are dancing quite alone, -no daring couple share their bold adventure.

The music stops. Far, far too soon!' he cries; and all because she asked, 'How's darling Beatrice?'

*

*

*

*

'Indeed you are too kind to say so, but all men say such things! Oh! but then I dote on dancing, and once a ball is past, I think of nothing else for days!'

6

Ah, so do I said Headstrong eagerly.

She paused, then suddenly exclaimed, 'I love that step of yours!' He felt her breath upon his cheek, and as he gazed he

wondered how he had overlooked those glittering eyes, and felt an inward awe as he thought they'd lost the cast as if by magic. 'Why, Geraldine, you'd make a queen of tragedy' said he. 'But do you call me pretty?' she asked.

6

Terribly so!' replied young Wonder-stricken.

'Ah, well,' she said in pensive accents, 'now am I pretty? I do not think I am.'

'What if I say you're not?' asked he.

'I'd like you all the better-please say away!'

'You're fascinating-very.'

Oh, fascinating' she drawled; no higher claim to your distinction?'

Slightly bewitching,' replied the youth.

'A term I can't take in; I've very much to learn, but then I've not left school; I'm only young-nineteen! I'm ever learning; in the shady vales, on mountain-tops, and then in cities. Midst solitude or numbers 'tis one, so that I learn. And now I learn afresh! I'm rather bewitching, ha, ha!' pursued the girl with a quickness that kept Ralph in a state of semi-distraction. 'May I say "most," then, Geraldine?'

Oh, as you will. But this from you! who, as I hear, saved a ship's crew and passengers, and risked your own dear life so nobly' she said with tenderness and pathos.

He glanced up at her, but could not tell if she returned his gaze, her eyes seemed so to wander.

'What would you have me say?' he asked her dubiously. 'Oh, Ralph, you'd think me fast, or I could say much more,' she said in gentlest tones of melting tenderness. What I now say I could not tell to any man I know: Ralph Osborne, I adore you for your noble conduct! Now, am I not fast?'

'She has lost the cast,' thinks he, and seems to gaze into my very soul !'

Another waltz struck up.

'Look, look! how perfect is their movement!' one and all exclaimed; and even Tabitha, when off her guard, was heard to say, What lovely waltzers!'

6

Ralph liked to think that yielding pliancy of form,—that fascination born of raptured clasp and perfect accord must spring from a Spirituelle which, stealing around his senses, took complete possession of him.

The music ceased.

'How changed her manner now!' thinks he; how quiet and how nice! She knows my thoughts are far away!'

CHAPTER XV.

'Out, damned spot! out, I say !'-SHAKESPEARE,

'How now, Lanky?' asked St. Peter Gallwood of St. Obadiah Lank-heart Mole, at a side-table where. Sternites had congregated. St. Peter and St. Luke Meekface were old chums. Lanky, being Vice-Chairman of the Vortex, carried his head very high indeed. Cards were never touched by the Sternites, being much too near the devil, they said. Fid-fad Lukewarm and Lanky took very sweet counsel together, and grew, if not fat, very rich. Fid-fad was not a bad sort; but Lanky spoilt him by trying to make square things round, and round things square! And the inhabitants of Undone city found it out; but there was no help for it, for they could do nothing!

'How now, Lanky, doth the servant of His master "take"? 'Take wheezed Lanky; 'verily, no; but the "thing" will, I doubt not.'

'We must have the Marquis,' put in St. Luke sternly. Doth he know how well "Backaway" hath taken? Praised be God,

it hath indeed!'

(In,' I breathed.)

Ah, how the Lord hath raised John Fleasum! The new "football" is to be named "Fleasaway," after his servant, and a comely, righteous name it seemeth.'

'Well, my boys,' cried jolly old John Fleasum, joining them; 'not tripping the light fantastic, eh? Who has seen the Marquis,' asked he beamingly, 'about my little pet scheme for relieving this jaded Old Countree of its superabundant population, eh? Ha ha ha! ha!'

'I fear the soul of the Marquis is greatly against the project,' said Lanky. I told him each jolly Old Countree labourer should be supplied with "Tracts for the Soul," according to the Prospectus; if not,' whined he resignedly, with "Tracts of Soil," and

'What!' cried Fid-fad ingenuously; 'will they not get "Tracts of Soil," then?'

Now, as everybody knew, Fid-fad was the Secretary. He had a sort of honest carriage; and Fid-fad could, in his way, be nasty and mischievous. They looked aghast !

There was no land in Fleasaway, that is, for Dupes. And therefore Lanky rose up in their midst, and straightway said, 'Tracts of Soil are to be given in,-if they can be found, and if

the Lord prospers the "undertaking" with His abundant blessing! He added benignly, and with much self-complacency, And it is not for short-sighted mortals like ourselves to too diligently inquire whether "Tracts of Soil" are ever supplied at all.'

'So long,' put in Luke, as they be with godly tracts supplied!'

'And question not, oh, ye Saints of the Most High,' touchingly observed Lanky, 'whether it be lawful or no! And, John Fleasum,' added he, addressing the burly Spoiler at his side, I would, John, ye were one of us-perhaps ye are, John, in that heart of thine. Then God be praised! Verily, I think ye are !

John chuckled, and said aside, 'Verily, I think I ain't; and do not mean to be. It'll be a pretty plum to me, I know!'

Addressing the Sternites, Lanky asked, 'Should we not mention John before the Throne?'

it?'

And I heard John say aloud, 'Why don't yer "toss" about

'Toss all cried, aghast; about the Throne, too!-toss about being mentioned ! Oh, John, we fear for thee,-yea,

verily !'

"Where's Todigrab ?' asked John.

'Toadying the Marquis, I b'lieve,' said Fid-fad.

There was a rustling sound above their heads, amongst the sombre overhanging shrubs. They all looked up. From out the darkness came a Voice which made them quake, His hours are numbered !'

Again there was a quivering in the leaves; then silent they became. All stood aghast, and shook.

'Oh, 'tis the Lord! I saw His clouds descending!' cried St. Peter.

'Nay, but the Voice !' gasped St. Luke, with feeble utterance. 'What did it say?' asked Lanky, endeavouring to assume a cheerful air.

'As though you didn't know!' said burly John. But does not Todigrab belong unto the Lord? If so, what matters it whether he be taken or left?' he asked, with a half smile, twirling his fingers at a demi-right angle.

"Oh, no,' said several voices.

he is an Israelite !'

"His hair's too short; besides

In whom is much guile indeed,' said St. Peter self-complacently, bearing in mind the Voice, and shrugging his shoulders, as, with his face between his hands, he leant himself forward.

'Are not the Israelites the Lord's?' asked John. 'Well, but he's clever, and acts so on the square.'