pointed to the fragments of her own which she held in her hand and said, with a smile:

"It is perfectly useless with such a wind as this. I really am in despair, Lord St. Edmunds, that you should have come out thus, for I am quite wet through and do not feel the rain. now."

When they reached the house, they found Constance at the very door, who immediately took possession of Cécile and accompanied her to her room from whence they descended, in about half an hour, having repaired all the more disastrous effects of the morning's adventure. By that time, Sir Charles and Lady Helen had both retired from the luncheon table, leaving there St. Edmunds and Edward in close conversation upon the latter's political prospects; but this subject was instantaneously dropped as the two young ladies re-appeared.

"Well, Saint Cecilia," exclaimed Edward, rushing forward and seizing her hand, "how do you find yourself now? You have brought back colour enough, at all events, to light up even one of our British skies."

"Ah! I do not like at all to see her so flushed," said Constance; "don't be talking to

her, either of you, pray, but rather assist me in persuading her to take something. She has had nothing since seven o'clock this morning, and then it was little more than a cup of tea."

This injunction was immediately complied with, and when everything most likely to tempt the abstemious Cécile had been placed before her, the incorrigible Edward renewed the interrupted conversation.

"You have had a morning after your own heart," said he. " Why, you must have brought back absolution for a forthcoming murder in your pocket from such an expedition."

"You very much overrate the merits of my effort," answered she smiling. "I meant to add a charming walk to the satisfaction of accomplishing my Sunday duties, and had no conception that such treachery could lurk behind the cloudless promise of so fair a sunrise."

"Oh! very pretty and poetical," resumed Edward; "but we have a proper reckoning to settle with her, have we not, Constance? And if it is on account of my electioneering interests that you refused the carriage this morning, I shall set the question at rest forthwith by resigning."

"That would be a notable way of reestablishing me in Lady Helen's good graces," replied she, "and then, indeed, the sooner I become some unfortunate young lady's companion, the better."

"Don't mind him, darling," interposed Constance, "but do try and eat a little chicken: you promised me that you would, after you had had the warm wine and water. I will not positively allow another syllable to be uttered, until you have kept your word."

"I am afraid that it was very imprudently pledged, dearest Conny," whispered Cécile, whose hectic colour had already forsaken her cheek. "I do not know how it is, but I feel very weakand the heat of the room is, I think, too much for me. I believe that I should breathe more freely in the hall for a moment."

At these words, the purport of which was painfully illustrated by the increasing paleness of the speaker, Constance urged her at once to follow her impulse of leaving the dining-room, and assisted her accordingly to arise. But ere they had moved on many steps, she exclaimed, in great alarm:

"Edward-St. Edmunds, for Heaven's sake

support her! I knew she had fearfully overtaxed her strength."

Both the young men sprang forward together at this summons, and our hero, who was nearest to the drooping Cécile, seized her wrist to uphold her as she was gliding to the ground from Constance's unavailing embrace. A faint cry of intense anguish responded at once to his over-zealous grasp.

"Take care," said Edward; "she is, so delicate. Lay her on the floor, Conny, now that she is quite insensible. She will soon come to herself again."

"Surely, I cannot have hurt her," muttered the disconsolate Viscount, who had not relinquished the frail hand that he still held in his own; "and yet I certainly did feel something like a nasty rough bracelet under her sleeve. God bless my soul! there's blood upon her hand now!"

"So there is; what can be the cause of it, Edward?" cried Constance.

"It must be some horrible torture of her invention," replied he, and the all-motionless arm having been bared a little, a gold bracelet was removed, and the true cause, both of the

momentary pain and of the slight wound, was discovered.

"I thought as much," resumed Edward, still in a whisper. "See, how she has twisted this braiding of iron-wire round her arm; it is full of sharp points and edges, which have pierced the skin in twenty places. However, I will soon settle the matter now, if you will but hand me those garden-scissors that are on the chimney-piece, there, like a good girl.”

Scarcely had the obnoxious circlet been thus summarily disposed of, when the patient showed the usual symptoms of returning consciousness; and the first object which she could distinctly perceive, after having recalled her scattered senses, was her own arm, uncovered nearly to the elbow, and despoiled of her golden bracelet, as well as of the sterner appendage which it had concealed. She gazed anxiously in Constance's face, and detecting something of the truth in the playfully triumphant smile which she observed there, she said, in a tone of tender yet deep reproach:

Conny, was this kind? I never should have expected it from you."

"Don't be angry with me, dearest Cécile," replied her cousin, embracing her.

"In the