speaker's voice, that our hero was almost sympathetically constrained to submit; and yet, he could not but urge that most probably the order would be diametrically reversed by Constance.

"Then you must disobey this time," said Cécile gravely.

Why so, Miss Basinstoke ?"

Because," muttered she, "because in short, it was surely not to sit so long by a Catholic orphan girl, that Lord St. Edmunds undertook the Lincolnshire pilgrimage."

"I am not aware," replied our astonished hero, "that I had any particular object in coming here, saving a mere visit of courtesy."

"Oh! you know best of course," said Cécile, rising to join, at the tea-table, her more matronly neighbours.

St. Edmunds also rose at the same time, but so deep was the reflective mood into which the last words of his fair neighbour had cast him, that he remained, for many minutes, an almost unconscious spectator of the gay movement around him. At length, his eyes fell upon radiant beauty of the laughing Constance. Could it be so indeed? Had the long expected,

the

the long urged visit some definite object, in the mind of its promoters, if not in his own, and was that object no other than that of his father's recent and most earnest solicitude? Constance was as amiable as she was lovely; her fortune, as an only younger child, was considerable; her birth and station well beseemed her other advantages. Was it surprising that Lord Tewkesbury and his sister, who had always remained faithful to their earlier affection, should have devised a union which boded so much satisfaction to their own feelings, so much happiness to those whose welfare it still more immediately concerned? Who could have gazed upon Constance Basinstoke as she then stood, smiling in all the guileless consciousness of her youthful charms, and marked her with indifference for his appointed bride? No wonder that our hero's look so long remained fixed upon her alone. No wonder that when at length it was withdrawn, when it fell once more upon the humble and dependant Cécile, seated as she was again at her allotted place by the tea-table, he should have breathed so deep a sigh! Many a one, less thoughtful than St. Edmunds was in his actual mood, had paid

before and would again pay this fleeting tribute to the contrasted darkness of the poor Papist's promised destiny.

That evening being Saturday, when the clock struck twelve, the noisier pleasures were duly brought to a close, and, soon afterwards, the whole party broke up, the Thornhills and other neighbours retiring to their respective homes.

Well, it is not for long that we are parting at all events, that is a comfort," said Lady Templedale, as the farewell compliments were exchanged. "We are all to meet again at Moorlands, on Monday, are we not ?"

"Indeed, we shall most anxiously expect you," replied young Thornhill.

"Weather permitting, of course," exclaimed Constance, who on a wet day, likes nothing so well as her fire-side.

Hold your tongue, you lazy monkey," interposed Lady Templedale. "Don't anticipate disappointments; it is sure to be fine, isn't it Cécile, you who are weather-wise as well as wise in every other way. Come, give us a favourable augury.

دو

"Indeed I do not know what to say,"

answered the Saint. "We have a new moon to-morrow afternoon, and Herschel

"Never mind Herschel. What can he know

more than we do about it.

Just look at the

glass, Lord St. Edmunds: I am

going up."

sure it is

"Well, perhaps it is a little, Lady Templedale," replied our hero, after a minute investigation.

"Ah!" said Cécile smiling, one credulity overthrown merely to be replaced by another. You must not be surprised if I still adhere to the moon, the older and the loftier guide."

"Very well, pray do," cried Lady Templedale. "And you, Lord St. Edmunds, who are fond of betting, I have heard, must uphold the honour of the glass. I would give something considerable myself, could this obstinate little Romanist be, for once, positively convicted of error. What say you, Mrs. Herschel, will you wager against the glass?"

Yes, Lady Templedale, I will." "How much?"

"A shilling, that it will rain on Monday." "And a shilling that it will not, that's a

bargain," cried St. Edmunds and Lady Templedale together.

This important matter having been thus disposed of, the still lingering neighbours took their final farewell of Redburn Hall, and its inmates retired to their much required

rest.

Lady Helen was sufficiently recovered on the ensuing day to assist at the afternoon service, and to appear at dinner; but, exhausted by this double effort, she withdrew to her room at a very early hour. Her re-appearance was not, however, the principal incident which was to mark the course of that Sunday for Cécile Basinstoke. Soon after Church time, Lady Templedale had asked her what she thought of Cardinal Wiseman's paper, not the original cosmographic pastoral, but the subsequent appeal to the people of England. She had replied, with perfect sincerity, that she was not even aware of its existence, a fact subsequently accounted for when it became known that Lady Helen had ordered the immediate destruction of every newspaper which had contained or commented upon the document. A copy of it was there