It would be difficult to say with what feelings the marquis and marchioness separated, when after having taken a cup of tea together in the drawing room of Downes House, they exchanged a good-night, and his lordship hurried to his dressing-room. Perhaps the word "feelings," in their case, is altogether misapplied. Their efforts with regard to each other, had been directed to leave in their bosoms nothing for which it would be suitable.

They believed that they had succeeded in that. But the one who was coldest in character and temper had least reason to boast of the self conquest. The wounds of pride continually smarting, caused the marchioness to find in her memory, if not her heart, the image of him who had inflicted them. Oh, worse than the times of utter isolation, were those when the phantom of the unloving and the unloved would present itself.

And so, each lay down to rest alone. Neither like John Hardy companied by

angels his own good thoughts, nor like Lord Woreham and Lady Charlotte each with the other as the spirit's partner.

Lord Hoodborough, on his pillow, tried to think as usual of all that now occupied him so much, politics-the balance of partiesvarious chances respecting the premiership; but it would not do-he was disturbed strangely and feverishly by being so near two persons whom he had not seen for so long a time, his wife and Lady Charlotte. The double chain which he thought he had broken and cast from him, he found fast linked and wound around him-galling him -the iron of the links entering his soul.

He arose, flung on his dressing-gown and threw open a window to refresh himself with the night air. All was still. On a rising ground opposite and beyond the bounds of shrubbery and park around Downes House,

there twinkled a light from a window. It was John Hardy's window. There was peace. Whilst the marquis gazed, saying to himself, "How far the little candle throws its beams!" a bell in the house rang violently, and he heard hurrying feet on the stairs and corridors.

He closed the window, and as some one passed his door he opened that to enquire what was the matter. He was answered by one of the maids-"My lady is taken suddenly ill, my lord-but it is not more. alarming than usual-her ladyship is subject to these attacks."

"Are you sending for a doctor?"

"No, my lord,-her ladyship always manages herself."

66 Ah, well!-I hope her maid is skilful, also." And he shut his door once more on himself.

Thus then, neither did tranquility visit Lady Hoodborough's couch, he thought with

cold indifference, as with slippered step he paced his dressing room to and fro, seeking to win repose by thus wearying himself.

Poor Lady Hoodborough, had he no compassionate thoughts for her? Yes-some. But even his pity approached too nearly to contempt; it was not kindly. He dwelt on the unflinching reliance on her own decision, the rigid tenacity of opinion, which she had at all times exhibited. Then he recalled the dignity and kindness of Lady Charlotte, the self-command which she had shewn on that day. There was the fortitude of a noble nature to which he had done grevious wrong. But his wife, self-willed and obstinate, was torturing herself into ill-health under a lesser calamity for he had just so much candour to acknowledge that he had not done quite right in marrying her without caring for her -he said not a word to himself about loving another.

In the morning the pair did not meet at

breakfast; the marchioness had not recovered sufficiently to appear until late in the day. When she did descend he had strolled out.

He walked into the village and on to John Hardy's old house. It was unoccupied, but he soon found many tongues eager to tell about the new house, and to direct him how to reach it. When he had mounted the hill and looked over the valley, the direction of Downes House, shewed him that from Mr. Hardy's must have come the light which attracted his eye on the preceding night. On observing this, he added the line which he had then omitted, "So shines a good deed in this naughty world." It was not applicable there from the new house there had already gone forth many good deeds, but they did not shine at all.

The marquis arrived just at the hour when the good man came home to dine. His lordship offered to lunch with him; an offer very grateful to his hospitality, for he should not