was not near to listen, Mr. Cameron was apt to bestow epithets which it would be by no means seemly to repeat.

One great point was gained, but there were two others, almost equally important to be attempted. The first to induce Colonel Verney to recognise the proposed alliance graciously, so as not to offend Mr. Cameron's pride, and the second to hasten the marriage before any obstacles could arise to prevent it. The former was Mrs. Verney's task, and she felt now the full benefit of the conversation by which she had so prudently prepared her husband's mind for what was to come. The outburst of contradiction with which, as a rule, Colonel Verney considered it incumbent upon him to receive all propositions, had already in some degree had its vent. What remained could very well be borne by Mrs. Verney, certain as she was of ultimately bringing him round to her own views. With admirable discretion she carried him off to Versailles the very day of his nephew's proposal, and did not allow him to hear of what had taken place till they were comfortably settled in their hotel, with a quiet day before them. Having him then completely in her own power, she broke the intelligence gradually, agreed with him in seeing all the disagreeables, listened with exemplary patience to his recapitulation of everything Mr. Cameron had ever said or done to annoy him, and at length so soothed him, that by the following morning he was in a condition to take upon himself the part of forgiving and forgetting, which best suited his really generous disposition, and to write a cordial note to Mr. Cameron, accepting the marriage with a very good grace.

Mr. Verney's business, that of hastening the marriage, was more difficult.

The idea of India had not hitherto been a serious objection to the marriage in Mr. Cameron's mind, because he had looked forward to it in the distance. An event which might take place some time in the next year gave leisure for preparation, and Mr. Cameron could accept most changes with equanimity so long as his dignity was not disturbed by his being hurried. But to be told that Rosamond must be married, and ready to leave England in a month's time, would be an announcement the effect of which no one could calculate. He had so far

accepted the new state of affairs as to acquiesce in the proposal that they should go home at once, but this was merely a concession to feminine weakness.

'Ladies,' as, with a patronising smile, he observed to Mrs. Verney, 'ladies are apt to be excited by the prospect of a wedding. They believe that it involves an amount of work which cannot be completed under many weeks. I see no cause for such haste myself. The marriage is as yet only an indefinite idea for the future. We shall have full time for a consideration of the details when the event is fixed. At present I should suggest that little might be said about it. It involves gossip, my dear Mrs Verney; and gossip, as you will agree with me, is objectionable. Still, as to our return, I give in. In Mrs. Cameron's state of health I should be sorry to disturb her, and she fancies that it is necessary to be at home; therefore I give in.'

These very vague notions of time were of most serious moment to Mr. Verney. He had made retreat impossible, and all that remained for him was to carry out his plans boldly and speedily, for always in the background was a vision of Myra returning from St. Wolfgang with remarks, suspicions, and questions, which he might not be able to parry, and which might risk the loss of all that he had sacrificed honour to obtain. And Mr. Verney's position as regarded Rosamond was by no means happy or satisfactory. Whilst he had been uncertain of obtaining his prize, there had been a little excitement in striving for it. Doubt as to whether she cared for him had roused his vanity, and served as an incentive to the efforts he made to please her; and when first secretly engaged, they were separated, and had no opportunity of trying each other's tastes, or testing the stability of their professed affection. But once acknowledged as Mr. Verney's affianced bride, and Rosamond was fully determined to enjoy all the privileges of her condition. They are privileges which a woman can never enjoy twice, for a second marriage must, of course, be quite matter-of-fact, compared with a first. To be idolised, and made the centre of attraction, though only for a few weeks, must be a most tempting pre-eminence for many. Rosamond delighted in

worship, and worship she was resolved to have. She was the most sweet and gentle-mannered of tyrants, but she allowed her slave no rest. Mr. Verney, intensely indolent, devoted to selfgratification, roused only by the interest of literature or art, was called upon to accompany Rosamond in her walks and drives; to wait for hours whilst she was making her little purchases, to take part in discussions upon dress, to pay visits to tiresome people, to give up everything which had a tendency to occupy his exclusive attention; and if he showed the slightest symptoms of rebellion, to receive a shower of complaints, quiet, but sharp as the quills of a porcupine, which perhaps only feminine irritation could invent; and which were all the more unendurable because, though aimed at random, they were sure to strike upon that one point-the sincerity of professed affection-in which Mr. Verney was defenceless.

He was to be pitied. He might have been open to contempt if the world had known the truth; but he was much more to be pitied. He had never deliberately intended to sin against truth and honour; he had drifted away from them-that was all, The currents of life had been too strong for him, and his very talents had hidden the fact from him. So keen and vivid in his perceptions when he chose to exert them; so quick in seizing the negative on all subjects-in seeing what ought not to have been said or done; so cleverly cynical; so courteous, even when he withered with his censure, it had never once struck him that the least, the very least, practical effort after goodness, even let it be never so great a failure, is better and nobler than the most clear-sighted view of human imperfections, or the most eloquent criticism upon human plans. His words had been a veil to his deeds throughout his whole life; but words have no power over feelings, and still, in the secrecy of his heart, Mr. Verney's thoughts reverted to the sorrow-stricken girl, brought face to face with the destiny of misery which he had himself prepared for her, and which, in his better moments, he would even now have averted from her, at any sacrifice short of the courage required to draw back instead of to go on. For Mr. Verney was no monster of wickedness and cruelty. There was much good about him—

not in him, but about him-hovering near, overshadowing his faults, but not making its home in his heart. Yet he did not do the less evil; and now, because he felt that to stand still was a greater danger than to advance, his very cowardice made him bold; and four days after the engagement was first recognised, he suddenly announced to Mr. Cameron that, from private information, he was led to expect a recall to India almost immediately, and that, under these circumstances, he was compelled to press the question of an immediate marriage. If a delay could afterwards be obtained, Rosamond would be able to remain with her own family until the last moment, but the marriage itself was a necessity. Mr. Verney blundered in using that word 'necessity.' Mr. Cameron was far too elevated above the rest of mankind to recognise any necessity but his own will, and the inadvertence caused Mr. Verney a two hours' argument, ending very nearly in a complete rupture. It was only through the aid of Mrs. Verney's flatteries that he again carried the day, and Jeft Mr. Cameron satisfied with the conviction, so dear to his self-appreciation, that he was, as usual, acting the part of a paternal martyr.

They started for England, and Rosamond was to be married in three weeks.

CHAPTER XL.

'A LETTER for you, Myra,' said Mrs. Hensman, coming into Myra's room at Munich before the latter was dressed, and laying before her a very English-looking document, directed in a large legible hand. Mrs. Hensman had no fear of the exciting contents of that letter; it certainly did not come from home; the handwriting belonged neither to Mrs. Cameron nor Rosamond, and they had been Myra's only correspondents for the last fortnight. Besides, if it were not so, Myra was better and stronger, and they were talking of leaving Munich, and it would be impossible then to keep from her the intelligence which had been conveyed to Mrs. Hensman, a few days previous, that Rosamond was engaged to Mr. Verney. And really it did not seem there could be any reason for making a mystery of it. Rosamond and Mrs. Cameron had indeed both written anxiously, entreating that Myra might not be informed of it until she was quite strong, as it was likely to excite her too much; but Mrs. Hensman did not understand the excitement of young ladies about anything except their own marriage, or some subject connected with it, and she gave the newly-arrived letter to Myra, in the full belief that, whatever might be its contents, it would do her good rather than harm. And certainly, to judge from Myra's exclamation and smile of delight, Mrs. Hensman had judged wisely.

'From Mrs. Patty! How very good of her! Please, dear Mrs. Hensman, open the blinds; I am so much obliged to you for bringing it.'

Myra was much altered, even from that short illness. Her features had a thin sharp look, and her eyes were almost painfully bright. And she was very nervous too;