You will take care of her for me. She knows
all now."

"I will do anything for you," I answered,
still chary of my words, as it was my wont to
be, lest my love should weary you.

You left me, as it was best you should do,
alone, with the charge of that perplexed house
hold upon me; Adelaide broken in health and
spirits; Mrs. Vernon plunged into the frenzy
of her old malady; the story running far and
wide throughout the country. Every day I
found my comfort and strength in the letter that
came from you, wherein you had the generosity
to lay bare your heart to me as frankly as ever.
So the hard task began to grow lighter; the
tangled coil to unravel itself. Mr. Vernon
procured a nurse to take care of his wife, and I
accompanied Adelaide to the distant dwelling of
some friends, where we hoped she might sooner
recover her health; nor did I leave her until
I saw her resuming her playful girlish ways,
and coquettish graces. At last I was free to
go home; to go to the home you and I had built
on the rock, watching together its beams laid,
and its roof raised. But I was alone there. If
Adelaide had been your young and beautiful
wife, you would have crossed the threshold
hand in hand, uttering such words of welcome
as would never have died out of her memory, if
it had been like mine.

The jealous misgiving was unworthy of you
and myself, dear. I paced the little rooms,
taking up the trinkets which you had bought
anxiously and lavishly for Adelaide, and
always laying them down again with a sharper
pang. Did you wish me to die, Owen? Was
your heart aching to take her back again?
I rested at last in your little study, where
your books lay in scattered heaps before the
empty shelves. The days were gone for ever
when we had read them together on the hill-side,
in the first careless freedom of your sojourn
with us. I sat down among them, covering my
face with my hands, and I heard and I saw
nothing.

Nothing, my love, my dear, until your hand
rested on my head, and your voice, in hearty
cheery tones, fell on my delighted ear.

"Jane," you said, "my darling, my wife!
We are come home at last. I meant to be here
first, but it is ever you who welcome me. The
trouble is past. I love you better, love you
more, than ever I loved Adelaide."

You lifted up my head, and made me look into
your face. It was at once peaceful and
exultant, as the face of a man who has gone through
a great conflict, and come out of it more than
conqueror. You laid your lips to mine with
one long kiss, which told me infinitely better
than words could tell, that never more need
shadow of doubt or distrust of your love fall
upon my spirit. Such as I was, you gathered
me into your inmost heart, barring it against
any memory or any fancy that might betray
me. The deep foundations had been laid,
and any storm that beat against our confidence
and content would beat against them all in
vain.

Love, we have learned to speak of the past
calmly, and Adelaide has been to see us with
her husband.

VII.

MRS. LIRRIPER RELATES
HOW JEMMY TOPPED UP.

Well my dear and so the evening readings of
these jottings of the Major's brought us round
at last to the evening when we were all packed
and going away next day, and I do assure you
that by that time though it was deliciously
comfortable to look forward to the dear old house in
Norfolk-street again, I had formed quite a high
opinion of the French nation and had noticed
them to be much more homely and domestic in
their families and far more simple and amiable
in their lives than I had ever been led to expect,
and it did strike me between ourselves that in
one particular they might be imitated to advantage
by another nation which I will not mention,
and that is in the courage with which they take
their little enjoyments on little means and with
little things and don't let solemn big-wigs stare
them out of countenance or speechify them dull,
of which said solemn big-wigs I have ever had
the one opinion that I wish they were all made
comfortable separately in coppers with the lids
on and never let out any more.

"Now young man," I says to Jemmy when
we brought our chairs into the balcony that last
evening, "you please to remember who was to 'top up.'"

"l am the illustrious personage."

But he looked so serious after he had made
me that light answer, that the Major raised his
eyebrows at me and I raised mine at the Major.

"Gran and Godfather," says Jemmy, "you
can hardly think how much my mind has run
on Mr. Edson's death."

It gave me a little check. "Ah! It was a
sad scene my love" I says, "and sad
remembrances come back stronger than merry. But
this" I says after a little silence, to rouse myself
and the Major and Jemmy all together, "is not
topping up. Tell us your story my dear."

"I will" says Jemmy.

"What is the date sir?" says I. "Once
upon a time when pigs drank wine?"

"No Gran," says Jemmy, still serious; "once
upon a time when the French drank wine."

Again I glanced at the Major, and the Major
glanced at me.

"In short, Gran and Godfather," says Jemmy,
looking up, "the date is this time, and I'm
going to tell you Mr. Edson's story."

The flutter that it threw me into. The change
of colour on the part of the Major!

"That is to say, you understand," our bright-
eyed boy says, "I am going to give you my
version of it. I shall not ask whether it's right or
not, firstly because you said you knew very little
about it, Gran, and secondly because what little
you did know was a secret."

I folded my hands in my lap and I never took
my eyes off Jemmy as he went running on.

"The unfortunate gentleman" Jemmy