laughing, "my politeness goes into very small compass.

With this he was obliged to be satisfied, though he by no means felt so.

CHAPTER X.

There are few men in the world can say

They had a dream which they do not dream still,— Few fountains in the heart which cease to play

When they whose touch evoked them at their will Sit there no longer. F. W. FABER.

ONE day in Easter week Edith paid her promised visit to Miss Hamilton at the Rectory, with the private determination, however, that she would give that young lady very clearly to understand that she by no means wished to make an intimate friend of her. She had no intention of being intimate with anybody, and felt the necessity of even ordinary intercourse an intolerable burden. She neither felt sympathy with others, nor desired it from them. A very unamiable character, no doubt, in a merely natural point of view; and Edith had certainly no supernatural character as yet, except the grace of baptism, which she was perpetually resisting.

During her visit, Mr. Hamilton came in, followed by a shaggy Skye terrier, whose short legs and snub nose attested his genuineness. The dog overwhelmed Edith with such friendly

H

demonstrations that Mr. Hamilton, fearing it might be troublesome, called it off.

66

O, never mind!" said she; "I am very fond of dogs, and I suppose they know it, for they always come to me. Don't call him away."

"You cannot please Edwyn better than by making friends with that little creature," said Miss Hamilton; "it is quite a case of 'Love me, love my dog.'"

Edith somewhat impatiently put down the little animal, which had jumped upon her lap; and Mr. Hamilton said, laughing,

66

Nonsense, Mary; you know I only like him for the sake of the friend who gave him to me.” "And a very good reason, too," said Edith. "If I really cared for a person, I should love the most insignificant thing connected with him."

Mr. Hamilton looked at her with a bright smile, and said,

"I believe that is a right principle."

"Don't give me credit for right principles," she replied, laughing; "I know nothing about them. I spoke as a matter of feeling."

"But, Edwyn," said his sister, "what do you mean? It seems to me the most absurd thing in the world to let one's affection for people extend to their cats and dogs, to say nothing of their shoes and gloves, which I suppose you include."

"I only mean that the highest kind of love is jealous of everything connected with its object,” replied he.

Edith looked at him questioningly; he might

as well have spoken Chinese as far as she was concerned, and he saw that plainly; but instead of attempting any elucidation of his meaning, he turned off the subject abruptly by saying,

"Do you ride, Miss Sydney? There is excellent turf all about this country; you may often canter three or four miles without danger to your horse's legs."

"I am expecting a horse soon," she answered; "but I have none at present that I can ride.”

At this moment Mr. Bruce came in. If Edith felt any uncomfortableness at the recollection of their last conversation, it was quickly dispelled by his manner, which was, if possible, even kinder than usual.

"You must find the great house rather dreary," he said, after a little desultory conversation; " but I suppose you only occupy the smaller rooms?"

"I seldom use the dining-room," she replied; "but I sit in the large drawing-room always in the afternoon. I like it; a room cannot be too large for me; I like to feel that there is space round me, that I can move freely and breathe freely. I like a room that I can walk up and down in without stumbling over a chair or a table at every step."

"What a restless fancy!" said Miss Hamilton. "I like a snug cozy little room, where I can sit comfortably over the fire in an easy chair, with work and books close to me."

my

"Because you are lazy, I suppose," said her brother, laughing. "But," he continued, turning to Edith, "I quite understand you, for I feel just the same myself; one feels like a caged bird

in a small room, and there seems no escape from oneself, which is sometimes oppressive."

Edith gave a quick, sudden glance at him, and then said rather coldly,

"I suppose one may have different reasons for liking the same things; but," she added, now addressing Mr. Bruce, "I don't think we shall have the house all to ourselves much longer; I mean to ask my cousin, Agnes Lyle, to pay me a visit soon."

"Do you know her?" asked he, looking a little surprised.

No, not in the least; I have never seen her. That is the very reason why I mean to invite her; I am interested in what I have heard of her from my aunt, and from a Captain Maynard, whom we met in Rome."

Edith stopped suddenly, arrested by an expression on Mr. Bruce's countenance, like nothing she had ever seen there before-a sharp contraction of the brow and flash of the eye. His lip quivered, as he said almost fiercely,

"What do you know of Captain Maynard?" "Very little," she replied. "He called upon my aunt in Rome; they seemed to be old friends, and she introduced him to me as a friend of my father's; that is all I know of him, and I hope all I ever shall, for I disliked him extremely."

Edith felt instinctively that she had better state these few facts as plainly and briefly as possible.

"I am glad of that," he replied, with evident relief; "he would not be a desirable acquaintance for you."

It was an unlucky remark; her spirit of independence was instantly roused, and she said stiffly and haughtily,

"Thank you; I can judge for myself."

What right, she thought, had Mr. Bruce or any man on earth to dictate her choice of acquaintances? She thought it strange, however, that he took no notice of her reply, and seemed even not to have heard it; he had turned away, and as he did so, pressed his hand tightly on his breast: she would have thought it stranger still had she known of the sharp-edged iron cross that lay hidden there.

Nobody seemed inclined to be the first to speak again; and Edith presently took out her watch, and, saying she should scarcely be at home in time for dinner, was just going when Mr. Bruce said,

"I will walk with you as far as the church : I am going there."

It was exactly what Edith did not want; but he did not offer her any choice in the matter, and she could not reasonably object.

"I spoke hastily just now," he said, as they crossed the fields, "and perhaps unjustly; it is many years since I knew Captain Maynard, and he may be much changed since then."

From her inmost heart Edith honoured Mr. Bruce for this act of simple justice; it was just what she could fully appreciate; but she only laughed as she replied,

"If he was foolish when you knew him, he is not grown wiser since. By the way, he asked a