toilette. He had not finished his letter when he heard her step in the hall; it took a quick ear to catch the sound of so light a footfall. He threw down his pen, regardless of a big blot it left on the paper, and hurried out into the hall to meet her. She had put on her walking-dress, of heavy corded silk and crape; the garden-hat was changed for a sombre bonnet and black veil. He did not like the change in her appearance; the deep mourning made her look more pale and fragile; she was his guardian's widow once more. In her hand she had a rather large covered basket.

"Why don't you have your maid carry that basket?" he inquired.

"The poor people like me to take them their things myself." "That's no reason why you should make yourself a beast of burden! I will go with you and carry the basket. It is much too heavy for you," he said, gently and decidedly taking it out of her hand.

"But you don't care for village visits?"

"They are not what I should call festive occasions-not exactly conducive to hilarity and the joy of life," he answered drily. "But I am going with you to-day."

Una had no particular reason for inflicting a wound upon his feelings by declining his company. So they set off on the round of cottage visits; and Una was rather surprised to find how little Bruce was in her way; he fell into just the right tone of cheering sympathy with the halt, the maimed, the blind, and the aged; children and dogs came to him readily: one baby took a firm hold of his finger and refused to release it when Mrs Charteris rose up to take her leave. She smiled as she perceived his difficulty, and met his glance of helpless appeal from her to the mother. It was evident he would stand there for an hour before he would pull his finger from the baby's clasp, against that young monarch's will. The yells of lamentation at his departure raised by another infant who had been favoured by hearing his big gold watch go "tick-tick," followed him down the village street.

"You would be too popular, Bruce," Una observed, with a kind, amused smile, "if you continued to tread this round of duty to judge by the wailings which mark your track! We shall be fortunate if I get you home with all your fingers and

your watch intact. We have three more babies to go and see, and I warn you that at the next cottage I am going to read a chapter of the Bible to a poor man dying of consumption."

"Well, I suppose you don't think I shall give an eldritch screech and go down through a trap-door in blue fire at the first words of Holy Writ?" he rejoined. And he comported himself faultlessly during the reading of the chapter, scated at the foot of the bedside like a graven image, his hands clasped on the top of his stick, his eyes fixed on Una, the very model of an attentive listener.

"That's the only comfort, sir, isn't it?" said the dying man, in his weak, broken voice when Mrs. Charteris closed the book. "Yes," replied Bruce unhesitatingly, taking the thin handwasted till it looked like a claw-which the sufferer held out to him. "The only comfort! Poor wretch!" he added to Una as they turned away from the cottage, when the door was safely closed behind them. "What comfort has he else?"

"You would not rob him of that comfort, Bruce, to give him in exchange the cold consolations of your science, would you?" "If I would speak one word, or let anyone else say one word to shake his faith, I should deserve to be shot," Bruce replied promptly.

Una smiled approvingly. She was gratified by Bruce's sympathy in her charitable pursuits, and had really found him rather a help than a hindrance. She certainly, however, would not have accepted his company so amiably if she had dreamt of the significant glances and observations which followed her being seen thus in public alone with him. For others remembered what Bruce himself had realised to day-but what to her mind had never occurred in the aspect it presented to these—that she was a widow, fair, still young, and free.

Bruce Wardlaw went back to London that evening, and the next day, before returning to Wales, he called at the office of the Silver Nugget Mining Company, and informed them that they could fill up the post of manager to their Chihuahua mine, as it would not suit him to undertake a berth abroad at present.

(To be continued.)

BELGRAVIA

APRIL, 1892.

The honourable Jane.

BY ANNIE THOMAS (MRS. PENDER CUDLIP),

"THAT OTHER WOMAN,"

Author of

EYRE OF BLENDON," "DENNIS DONNE," "PLAYED OUT," ETC., ETC.

CHAPTER XI.

THE NEW MAMMA.

MR. WYNDHAM'S placid, composed, wealth-endowed life had been a very happy one. Up to the time of his knowing Helen Collette, he had never known what it was to have an ungratified desire. It must be understood that all his desires were innocent and honourable. He was not a good man in spite of temptation. He was good because he had never been assailed by temptation in any evil form. When he felt his strong friendship for the beautiful widow was merging into love for her, he had taken himself to task severely, calling himself "an old fool, who deserved to suffer every pang that unrequited love can inflict, because of his folly." But when, against his sober judgment, he had asked for and obtained the desire of his heart, then, indeed, did he feel that Fate had made him her favourite, and bestowed her choicest favours upon him. Life was very sweet to the true, trustful old man as he went back to Redhill that day, with the proud knowledge in his heart that the star of his existence had given her sweet, womanly word that henceforth she would strive for him alone.

His sister Dorothy was waiting for him under the verandah

when he drove up to the house, and before either of them could speak, their eyes met, and they told and understood the whole story.

"It has been the wish of my life to see you happy with a wife, Ralph; I see I am to have that wish gratified," she said, as he stepped down by her side, tucked his hand under her arm, and led her into the house.

"My dear sister, I am too blessed, too happy--"

He almost sobbed the words out, and she patted his hand soothingly, as she had often done in their youth, when he had come to her with some brief, boyish sorrow.

"I felt so sure that it would turn out as I prayed it might, that I have been to look at a house in Reigate, to which I shall retire when you bring your bride home, dear Ralph."

"You will live with us, surely? Helen will wish it."

No, no; the picture will be a prettier one without me; but I shall see you both every day, I feel sure of that. Was she pleased with my ring?"

"More than pleased, and she expressed what she felt so sweetly. Dorothy, God is more than good to me in giving me such a woman as Helen-”

"Don't undervalue yourself, Ralph. I appreciate our dear Helen as fully as you do, but she gains much in gaining you, and she is so noble that she will admit it, and take pride in it."

"You must go up and see her to-morrow; we will get up early, and take her out for a drive in the country. When I left her just now, she was going to a house of mourning, I fear. Miss Herries came for her, as they were in distress about a sudden illness with which Lord Roydmore was seized. It was very sweet to me to see the way in which that girl turned to my Helen in her trouble. It was very hard to have to part with her the minute after she had given herself to me, but Helen is not the woman to let pleasure interfere with duty for a single moment, and she felt it her duty to go and comfort her suffering friends."

"Are they such friends? I was not aware of that, Ralph. Have you ever met Lord Roydmore, or any of his family, at Helen's house?"

"Unfortunately, no; I have always just missed him, for which I have been very sorry, as Helen has almost a filial affection for

She is evidently fond of
A beautiful girl Jane

the poor, hypochondriacal gentleman, whom she knew many years ago, when she was a mere child. the daughter, the Honourable Jane. Herries is, by the way, really a beautiful girl. I think Helen would like to make up a match between that handsome soldier fellow, Captain Stafford, and Miss Herries."

"Is any time fixed for your wedding, Ralph?"

He blushed like a boy as he answered:

"Nothing is settled excepting the great fact that she is to be my wife. What I shall propose to-morrow is that we marry in about a month-that will give her time to get her trousseau, you know-and go abroad while this house is being put in order and refurnished."

"Refurnished?"

Certainly; to a great extent, that is. The drawing and dining-rooms, and her own apartments must be furnished according to her taste entirely."

"Then the refurnishing shall be my wedding present to Helen," the generous old sister said heartily. "I feel I can't do enough for the woman who has brought such joy, such pure, noble joy into your life, Ralph."

They were off to town betimes the next day, laden with the choicest fruits from hot - houses and vineries, and the rarest flowers from the conservatories. The arrangement the head gardener had made of a huge group of the palest yellow roses -so pale that they seemed half-fainting with delight at their own sweetness-did not please Mr. Wyndham's taste this day.

"That high-handled basket is all very well for ordinary occasions," he said to Dorothy, tenderly poking his fat old finger, which was trembling with happiness, in among the flowers. "We must stop at Storr & Mortimer's, where I am having her ring made, and get a silver bowl to hold the roses. I heard Helen say once that a silver bowl was the only worthy receptacle for yellow roses of this tint."

So the silver bowl, big enough for an infant's bath, was got, and the roses were transferred into it from the graceful, despised basket. Then the old brother and sister, who still took a childish delight in lavishing rich gifts upon those they loved, went on in a