a mean and miserable provision, of which, however, there is no fear that you will need to avail yourself."

"One question, Mr. Stanner; does Mr. Watermeyr know what you have told me?" Asking this, Clare challenged and met her guardian's glance.

"He does. He was extremely pained and indignant. If there is any way of evading the will-if it is possible to settle the property on you unconditionally-he is determined it shall be done. He entreated that at least you might remain in ignorance of your position. I would willingly have had it so; but I am not a free agent."

"DEAREST CLARE,-I hope to follow this letter in a few hours. How much is contained in those poor words! With me I shall venture to bring my dear old friend, John Smith, trusting that, for his own sake, he may be welcome-for mine, not otherwise. Now, in this haste, I dare not allow myself to say more than that I am yours,

66 ALLAN WATERMEYR."

Clare was looking out again-down the sunny lawn to the river-all her color had faded now. Mr. Stanner rose. The girl's fair face looked so stony that he felt as if to address her would have been like addressing a statue. She did not move or speak, and he left her to her own thoughts-not sorry Having read this note, Clare took no more to escape from her near neighborhood, for heed of it, though she had been wont to the atmosphere around her seemed danger- keep and garner up carefully every line her ous. It took Clare some time even to real-cousin wrote to her. Mrs. Andrews replaced ize her position. She loved the old house; it in its cover, and laid it beside Clare's she loved every lawn, shrubbery, every field, plate; but Clare left the breakfast-table tree, dell, and dingle of the manor; she without again looking at or touching it. loved it as the kingdom where she reigned supreme-where she had believed she should always reign. She loved it as the only home she had ever known-as the place where she had been born-where her mother had lived and died. If a selfish love, it was still a more passionate love than any other she had known. She believed that she had loved Allan, not perhaps with "the love of men and women when they love the best," but with a love that with her had passed for that love. In all her dreams regarding her future he played a part, a secondary part-a princeconsort's part, perhaps. She was the queen, the lady of the manor; he her first retainer, her serviceable and chivalrous knight-one whom she delighted to honor, whom she enriched with her favors-and now

The sunshine had left the lawn, the twilight had faded from it before Clare moved; when she did, it was to shut herself into her own room, not to appear again that night. Mrs. Andrews could not gain admission: Clare, from within, would only say, "Not to-night, auntie; I cannot bear to be spoken to to-night."

"Which rooms shall I give your cousin and his friend ?" Mrs. Andrews asked, following Clare into the conservatory. This conservatory opened from the breakfastroom: through it you could reach Clare's special retreat, her favorite sitting-room, or could step out upon the terrace.

It was a pretty place; its many light and graceful pillars, garlanded with blossoming creepers, gave it a fairy-like look; it had been built at Clare's wish from a plan Allan had drawn for her. Filling up a recess in the south front of the house, it was doubtless an incongruous addition to the gray and grave solidity of the original architecture; yet very few people would have wished it away.

"I have no authority in this house. Give them what rooms you please," was Clare's sullen answer.

"That is foolish, my dear. For twelve months yet to come you are mistress here. It is foolish to say you have no authority."

"Do you think I will stay meekly till my term expires ?-to be turned out at the end of it? Mr. Watermeyr may be master at

plans.

once-means to be master at once: without wait to meet her cousin, and mature her my permission he brings a friend; let him invite a dozen if he pleases, it will make no difference to me. I will find a home somewhere else. I will leave this place at once; I will not meet him."

It was late in the day when the travellers arrived. Clare was the first to hear carriage-wheels upon the drive that swept up to the west wing of the house: she sat still, and gave no sign; but presently her guar

Clare leant her head against one of the gay garlanded pillars, and burst into pas-dian's duller ears were aware of this same sionate tears; it was the first time that she had alluded to her new knowledge.

"Order everything as you think best," she said, when she could speak, and moved away. But brave little Mrs. Andrews followed her to her room, sat down before her, scolded her first, comforted her afterwards; laid thorough siege to her, would not be repelled or silenced. Clare's reserve yielded -the waters of bitterness gushed out; her grief and her indignation found words to which Mrs. Andrews listened with patient sympathy.

sound. He rose and offered one arm to Clare, one to Mrs. Andrews, saying,

"We shall be just in time to receive Mr. Watermeyr at the hall-door."

Clare had not meant to receive Mr. Watermeyr at the hall-door-had not meant to go one step to meet him; she had made up her mind to await him where she was. Mr. Stanner waited before her; she hesitated a moment, and then yielded.

Mr. Watermeyr was just springing up the steps. Mr. Stanner drew Clare forward to meet him, at the same time removing her hand from his own arm. Clare offered it to her cousin mechanically. Clasping it in both his, Mr. Watermeyr bent his head towards her.

Clare drew back haughtily. "We are not children now," she said.

"I say again, my dear, that a wicked man (I must call things by their right names) has done wickedly and cruelly. You are placed in a painful position, no doubt, but it might have been much worse. I say again, there is but one course for you to take: put this knowledge aside, and act according to the instincts of your heart. Why should you revenge upon Mr. Watermeyr, the sincerity of whose love you have never doubted, and whom you loved before you knew of this, the wrong your father did you? Indeed, my poor Clare, you are too proud. A woman should delight to owe all to a man she loves. She gives him all he wants in giving him herself; between a husband and wife there should be no mine and thine. Indeed, of all women I have always pitied heiresses. I-fixed on her with an uncompromising, it am half inclined to congratulate you instead of to condole with you, my dear."

"Suppose, however," said Clare, softly and shyly, "that I find I do not love Mr. Watermeyr. And then suppose he no longer loves me, but from pity, and from motives of generosity, feels bound to marry me. And suppose-oh, a thousand things may be true that would make my position intolerable. It is intolerable. It might not be to all women, but it is to me. Oh, it is no use talking, auntie, preaching meekness and patience-no use, no use."

Still auntie's preaching had been of some use; the outbreak had done Clare good. She did not submit, but she submitted to

As she saw the handsome and sensitive face, which had looked so happy, eager, and loving, cloud over, she felt a triumphant sense of power, and was almost generous enough to regret the having used it. Gentler words-words of an at least ordinarily kind welcome-were on her lips, when she met the glance of a pair of keen eyes-the eyes of Mr. Watermeyr's friend, who stood behind him (as Clare thought), like Mephistopheles behind a young and fair-faced Faust

seemed to her hostile, scrutiny. Mr. Stanner's cordial greeting made the coldness of Clare's more conspicuous. She felt thisfelt herself in the wrong-assured herself it was that man's fault. Her manner, when Mr. Smith was presented to her, was certainly not conciliatory.

Clare went to her own room that night very thoroughly, very wholesomely, dissatisfied with herself. The cloud of pain had not cleared off her cousin's brow; she felt that she had rudely dashed all joyousness from his home-coming. She thought over their relation to each other in years gone byhow chivalrous his devotion had always been

how unvarying his gentle patience, even

when he was quite a boy. She repented of her harshness, resolved to try and atone for it, determined to meet him to-morrow in quite a different spirit. But on that day, as on the evening before, Allan's friend, consciously or unconsciously, acted as the evil genius of both Allan and Clare.

which you suffer," John Smith said: "I love you, my boy, more than I have loved any woman-more than I could love any woman; still I am obliged to believe in the existence of that malady. Men were created a little lower than the angels; it is the temporary subjection to an inferior being (which seems Clare avoided all chances of being alone for most men, thank Heaven, not for all, to be with Mr. Watermeyr, and if, when they were a phase nature ordains that they should pass together, she forgot the present position of through) which keeps them lower. I think affairs, and remembering only how things I can give no stronger proof of my love for had been, spoke to him with anything of you than by waiting to see the issue of your warmth in her tone, or looked at him with malady, in spite of the hospitable reception anything of softness in her eyes, she imme--the most hospitable entertainment-of my diately became conscious of Mr. Smith's ob- gracious hostess." servance, and felt or fancied something sarcastic in the expression of his face as he watched her; something which, reminding her of all she had for a moment forgotten, froze her back into guarded formality.

CHAPTER IV.

"Clare's position is a most cruel one. If she has not been perfectly courteous to you, John, you certainly have not been conciliatory in manner to her; you started with a harsh pre-judgment."

"Founded only on my conviction that no woman lives worthy to be worshipped as you worship your cousin-that she being, by your own admission, proud, was specially unworthy. As to her manner towards me, that is nothing; I am too ineffably gifted with selfesteem to be troubled or ruffled by a girl's small insolences."

ALLAN and his friend were alone in the breakfast-room one morning discussing plans for the day, after the rest of the party had left it. Allan was leaning against the wall close to the conservatory door, but with his back turned to the conservatory; his friend, pacing the room with a sharp, jerky step, betraying an excessive irritability either of mood or of temperament, stopped before him now and again. "Miss Watermeyr refuses to go on the favorable circumstances." water with us?" he asked.

"She thinks it will be too hot." “With such a breeze, and a cloudy sky! Stuff! I wonder a lady of her talent could not invent a more veritable seeming inveracity; but she did not care to trouble herself to do so, that is the insolence of it-the intolerable insolence of it." The last words were spoken too low to be heard by Allan, who was absorbed in his own thoughts.

Making one of his abrupt pauses before Allan, putting his tawny face close to his, and his hands on his shoulders, Mr. Smith said,

"I am afraid, my poor boy, you do not speed in your wooing."

"If you can be lenient in your judgment of a woman, be so of Clare; or rather, do not judge her at all. There is no need you should, and you see her under the most un

"Oh, I will be most lenient-pay her back courtesy for scorn. But if she is going to play the shrew to you, I shall be sorely tempted to play Petruchio to her."

"John!"-there was a dangerous light in Allan's eyes as he spoke "if we are to continue friends, this must be a closed subject. I cannot bear it touched as you touch it.”

"I understand; I can be silent and patient with my sick boy. But I must stand by and watch the game for you."

Mr. Smith's eyes at this moment wandered from Allan's face to the shrubs and flowers behind it. A mischievous gleam came into them as they lighted on something from which they were quickly averted. Speaking a little more loudly than he had spoken before, and with elaborate distinct

"If at all, with a very ill speed," Allan answered, looking up into the dark face with one of his peculiar smiles, womanishly ten-ness, he said,— der and melancholy for so resolutely moulded a mouth.

"I must just observe this before I let the subject drop. I have always thought that women have a wondrous power of tyrannous

"I believe this is what you look for, Miss Mr. Smith looked steadily into the young Watermeyr-the glove you dropped a few man's agitated face: there was a reddish minutes since. I was just acting as Allan's glow in his eyes, otherwise his own face said representative, and at the same time making little, his tongue nothing. His silence was an experiment on my own account as to how well calculated. After a few moments- a man can feel when he practises such foolafter a few turns up and down the room-ery as this." Allan came up to him.

believe, and of no family--fills some situation | fear, because such a nature could have no at one of the foreign universities, you know, perception of the redeeming qualities which and is only in England during the vacation." might render innocuous those it did perceive.

CHAPTER V.

Clare, noticing for the first time that the CLARE, desiring to avenge herself, began uncared-for locks on which the blaze of sunto observe and measure her adversary. If light fell were pretty freely sprinkled with women give themselves to the pursuit of re-gray, was wondering how this came about, venge, not being strong, they perhaps must what Mr. Smith's age could be, when sudneeds be treacherous. Clare did desire re-denly he rose and came to the window at venge, and only one way of obtaining it which she stood, the purpose and directness seemed open to her. Of that way Prudence with which he did so showing that he had said, “It is dangerous;" Conscience, been quite aware of her observance. This is wrong;" but Pride declared, "You are annoyed Clare, and she felt at once placed safe." her in the worse position.

It

She retreated a few paces from the window as she answered, "Are we hostile powers, Mr. Smith? I am unaware either that this is the case, or why it should be so." Her tone was wonderfully gentle, yet it seemed to have no softening influence.

Her resolve was taken one morning, as "Good-morning, Miss Watermeyr - a from the breakfast-room window she scruti- beautiful morning. I have, as you have nized her enemy. Mr. Smith was lounging seen, been enjoying the warmth-sunning on the terrace, hatless, in the full blaze of myself as your peacock is doing. I suppose, the morning sun. In his attitudes there was as we are at hostile powers, we are privileged something of listless southern grace when he the one to take the measure of the other. I was in repose, as there was much of sudden have allowed you to exercise this privilege southern fire when he was roused. His head, uninterruptedly for some time." It was more with its northern massiveness, looked some- the manner than the words themselves that what too large for the slight and peculiarly were offensive to Clare, and something in flexible figure; his features, though small, had the direct, unflinching glance that accompasomething of coarseness in their moulding-nied them, made her shrink from entering looked as if they had been worn down by con- upon any engagement of looks or words. stant friction, rather than at first delicately chiselled: the mouth would have been undeniably fine, almost grand, had it not worn a look of habitual compression. If for a moment this mouth took an unconscious and tender curve, if the lips uttered a noble or generous sentiment, and forgot for a moment to follow it by a sneer-if at the same time the shaggy brows for a moment raised themselves sufficiently to let sunshine from within or with- "Consider the question asked," Clare said, out illumine the eyes beneath-eyes resem-making an attempt to give a light, bantering bling a Highland tarn in depth and color-tone to the conversation. But Mr. Smith then, for that moment, an ordinary woman chose to remain immovably grave, and to would hardly have denied that Mr. Smith speak with harsh severity of tone. had a face, if not handsome or beautiful, attractive to an unusual degree. I say an ordinary woman, because at such times it was a face of the type most dangerous to such women as, of neither the highest nor the lowest order of moral or spiritual development, go to form the mass of womankind. In it there was a suggestion of possible lawlessness and tyranny, which, while it would have repelled a nature of the highest order, through being out of harmony with its knowl-guilt. Mr. Smith marked his advantage, edge and love of true beauty, would have in- and continued, "Then, again, a woman may spired one of the lowest with unmitigated with impunity treat a man with the most de

"You use a woman's privilege, Miss Watermeyr-you must ask me what privilege, or I dare not name it."

"I consider that you consider (meaning not Miss Watermeyr in particular, of course, but women in general) that to lie is the privilege of your sex. Men and women always meet on unequal terms: from men is exacted the strictest truth and honor, while the law of long use allows to women the weapons of cunning and falsehood." Clare felt that she flushed in an almost intolerable way, partly from anger, partly from a sense of detected