out, went to the window one afternoon to look at
the weather; but retreated somewhat hastily and
sat down on the sofa.

"You flutter, darling," said Mrs. Dodd. "Ah,
he is there."

"Yes."

"You had better take off your things."

"Oh yes. I tremble at the thoughts of meeting
him. Mamma, he is changed, sadly changed.
Poor, poor Alfred!"  She went to her own room
and prayed for him: she told the Omniscient
that, though much greater and better in other
respects than she was, he had not Patience. She
prayed, with tears, that he might have Christian
patience granted him from on high.

"Heart of stone! she shuns me," said Alfred,
outside. He had seen her in her bonnet.

Mrs. Dodd waited several days to see whether
this annoyance would not die of itself: waiting
was her plan in most things. Finding he was
not to be tired out, she sent Sarah out to him
with a note carefully sealed.

"Mr. Alfred Hardie, is it generous to confine
my daughter to the house?

"Yours regretfully,
"LUCY DODD."

A line came back instantly in pencil.

"Mrs. Dodd,— Is all the generosity and all the
good faith to be on one side?

"Yours in despair,
"ALFRED HARDIE."

Mrs. Dodd coloured faintly: the reproach
pricked her, but did not move her. She sat
quietly down that moment, and wrote to a friend
in London, to look out for a furnished villa in a
healthy part of the suburbs, with immediate possession.
"Circumstances," said she, "making
it desirable we should leave Barkington immediately,
and for some months."

The Bosanquets gave a large party; Mrs. and
Miss Dodd were there. The latter was playing a
part in a charade to the admiration of all present,
when in came Mr. Peterson, introducing his
friend, Alfred Hardie.

Julia caught the name, and turned a look of
alarm on her mother: but went on acting.

Presently she caught sight of him at some distance.
He looked very pale, and his glittering
eye was fixed on her with a sort of stern wonder.

Such a glance from fiery eyes, that had always
dwelt tenderly on her till then, struck her like a
weapon. She stopped short, and turned red and
pale by turns. "There, that is nonsense enough,"
said she bitterly, and went and sat by Mrs.
Dodd. The gentlemen thronged round her with
compliments, and begged her to sing. She excused
herself. Presently she heard an excited
voice, towards which she dared not look; it was
inquiring whether any lady could sing Aileen
Aroon. With every desire to gratify the young
millionnaire, nobody knew Aileen Aroon, or had
ever heard of it.

"Oh, impossible!" cried Alfred. "Why it is
in praise of Constancy, a virtue ladies shine in:
at least they take credit for it."

"Mamma," whispered Julia, terrified, "get
me away, or there will be a scene. He is
reckless."

"Be calm, love," said Mrs. Dodd, "there shall
be none." She rose and glided up to Alfred
Hardie, looked coldly in his face; then said with
external politeness and veiled contempt, "I will
attempt the song, sir, since you desire it." She
waved her hand, and he followed her sulkily to
the piano. She sang Aileen Aroon, not with her
daughter's eloquence, but with a purity and
mellowness that charmed the room: they had
never heard the genius sing it.

As spirits are said to overcome the man at
whose behest they rise, so this sweet air, and the
gush of reminiscence it awakened, overpowered
him who had evoked them; Alfred put his hand
unconsciously to his swelling heart, cast one look
of anguish at Julia, and hurried away half choked.
Nobody but Julia noticed.

A fellow in a rough great-coat and tattered
white hat opened the fly door for Mrs. Dodd. As
Julia followed her, he kissed her skirt unseen by
Mrs. Dodd: but her quick ears caught a heart-breaking
sigh. She looked, and recognised Alfred
in that disguise. The penitent fit had succeeded
to the angry one. Had Julia observed? To
ascertain this without speaking of him, Mrs.
Dodd waited till they had got some little distance,
then quietly put out her hand and rested it
for a moment on her daughter's; the girl was
trembling violently. "Little wretch!" came to
Mrs. Dodd's lips, but she did not utter it. They
were near home before she spoke at all, and then
she only said very kindly, "My love, you will
not be subjected again to these trials:" a remark
intended quietly to cover the last occurrence as
well as Alfred's open persecution.

They had promised to go out the very next day;
but Mrs. Dodd went alone, and made excuses
for Miss Dodd. On her return she found Julia
sitting up for her, and a letter come from her
friend describing a pleasant cottage, now vacant,
near Maida Vale. Mrs. Dodd handed the open
letter to Julia; she read it without comment.

"We will go up to-morrow and take it for
three months. Then the Oxford vacation will
terminate."

"Yes, mamma."

I am now about to relate a circumstance by no
means without parallels, but almost impossible
to account for; and, as nothing is more common
and contemptible than inadequate solutions, I
shall offer none at all: but so it was, that Mrs.
Dodd awoke in the middle of that very night in
a mysterious state of mental tremour; trouble,
veiled in obscurity, seemed to sit heavy on her
bosom. So strong, though vague, was this new
and mysterious oppression, that she started up
in bed and cried aloud, "David!—-Julia!—-Oh,