Without a word, without a movement, or a sigh, the poor girl's head was laid upon his breast, as a child upon its mother's.

He bent his down over it, his lips touched her pale forehead, outwardly so calm and cool. She started at the touch; her eyes dilated with a wild and fearful brightness, she rubbed her brow as if to erase a mark, and then slowly walked out of the room, without a word or look of recognition.

It was in my nature to make myself at once visible as the involuntary witness of a scene at which I was not supposed to be present. But our tutor only clasped his hands, raised them with a deploring gesture, and seeming to breathe a prayer to himself, hastily retreated from the room, and away through the wood.

CHAPTER IX.

THE next day Grace did not rise at all; she seemed oppressed with sleep. The doctor came, but could not as yet pronounce on her case: he enquired if she had gone through fatigue. She had indeed the appearance of one who had gone through suffering either physical or mental.

The twins were together that day; free to ramble as they had been wont to do, for our tutor too was indisposed, or absent, or busy, and could not attend to my brother.

That night I slept in a room adjoining that of Grace Fleetwood; the wainscotted walls allowed means both of hearing and communicat

ing between them. It seemed to me that in sleep I heard my name distinctly called.

my

was

I woke, and rose at once. The moon indeed at the full, shining clear and bright through my open window. I passed my hand, as I well knew how, along the panel of the wainscotting, and a door flew open; I passed through a narrow inner passage, passed my hand again. along the opposite panel, another door opened,and I was in the chamber of Grace Fleetwood. I went to the bedside, but she did not speak: I leant down, and said

"Here I am, Grace, do you want anything?" There was no answer.

I thought I had been mistaken, and then fearful of disturbing her, I crept back to my bed.

I am not sure whether I had slept or not when I again heard myself called. I rose and did the same thing with precisely the same result. Yet once again it occurred.

I woke with a start, for the words, Magdalene St. Pierre! were distinctly and audibly ringing in

my ears.

The sun was rising, and I got up, resolved to return to my broken sleep no more for this time.

I went to Grace once more. The light of day

now fell on her face, and I saw that she lay with her eyes and fixed on the oppowide open site wall, like one in a state of unconsciousness. Her lips were apart, and her breath came heavily. She did not appear to see me, and when I spoke, she seemed not to hear me.

I think that was the first pang of terror I ever knew.

Our mother, with pale face and tearful eyes soon stood beside our poor guest.

The eyes were still wide open, the lips apart the hard breathing continued.

Grace was, to our perception, dying.

Men and horses were despatched here and there for doctors. The flower-wreaths in the hall were scarcely withered yet; and there on her table stood the branch of delicate jessamine that I had twined round her head the evening before. The maid had put it in a vase of water, and it had revived.

The perishable flower was there as if looking

at the bed where she who had worn it-the stately, beautiful girl-lay, to all appearance, dying.

I was little given, still am little given, to speak of anything, to appear even to notice or be conscious of anything that may belong to the secrets of others. But at this moment I felt, I know not why, as though I had a secret on my mind which our mother ought to know. She saw me looking at her in a manner that plainly said I had something to tell, and her question drew out the answer,—

"Do you know, mama, Grace and our tutor are friends-must be old friends."

She smiled, a smile that shone up into her eyes. My voice, my look, were those of one who had a mysterious secret to impart.

"I know it, dear. But she did not know he was here. Her parents did not know it either. He told me all about it before he left us to go to the cottage."

There was now one cause of surprise to me in which all others were lost. Our mother had had a secret! I never supposed it possible she