one of these days. Don't be afraid about it. If
I can't, I'll refuse you.' But, egad, whenever I
asked, he always did refuse me."

That night, then, when Mr. Tillotson found
himself again with the family, he said to himself,
almost pettishly, "It is absurd going on in this
way, haunting a family."But he wanted a little
resolution in the mere trifles of life. There were
no military present, so that Miss Augusta could
devote herself without distraction to the
entertainment of the guest. . Miss Helen was tired,
and went to lie down. Mr. Ross was not present.
"I am glad of it, I am sure," said Mrs. Tilney.
"I am tired of waiting on his humours." Miss
Augusta exerted herself surprisingly to amuse
the stranger. When there were patches of scarlet
lighting up the landscape with a gorgeous military
sunset, the poor girl naturally became bewildered
and divided in her attention. Now that there
were only the autumn greys, the task was easier,
so over she went to her piano, and warbled ballads
aimed at the heart of the stranger.

For a few moments—when she had gone to
look for another ballad up–stairs—Mr. Tillotson
was left with Miss Millwood. He asked her
where her father was.

"He has gone out," she said." "He is in low
spirits. He has met some cruel disappointment
to–day, he told me. I cannot guess what it can
be. Poor papa, he has many troubles."

"I can guess," said Mr. Tillotson. "I know,
in fact. I believe I am accountable. It was
about the new bank. But I fear there is a
difficulty."

"Poor papa!" she said, sadly. "His life has
been trouble enough. And he was once very
happy. This place is a sad change for him, as
you can imagine. It is hard, at his time of life, to
be subject to fresh disappointments."

"I am very sorry," said Mr. Tillotson, looking
at her ; " but I hope there will be no disappointment
here. In fact, I think I can smoothe away
the difficulty. I am sure it can be managed."

Again the deeply gratified look came into her
face—the soft charming look of devotion which
he had never seen in any other face. Then Miss
Augusta came back with her book, and began
once more.

About ten came in Mr. Tilney, depressed and
almost moody.

"Where is that Ross?" he said. "I have
been looking for him. He said he would be
here."

"Oh, with his odious pipe, or some of his
mess friends," said Mrs. Tilney. "What a life
the creature leads. I am sure a person that has
staked his all on a chance in this headstrong
way, might at least conduct himself with humility
and gentleness. I am sick of his airs. One would
think he had got a fortune already."

"That is the reason, perhaps," said Mr. Tilney,
gravely. " I suspect he feels it as much as any
one, but is so proud, he puts on this ' devil–may–
care manner to hide it. Here there was Bob
Childers, who was Master of the Horse, why,
when all his friends knew he was breaking, and
scraping up a guinea here and a guinea there,
God knows how, he was as proud and offensive
a creature as the commonest cockney. There
was——"

Mrs. Tilney had always to restrain these
reminiscences.

"I know," she said, smiling. "Would you
ring for the wine and water?"

About eleven, when Mr. Tillotson was going
home, young Mr. Ross entered very brusquely ;
his hair was tossed, his cheeks were flushed. He
gave an angry look, and flung himself down on a
sofa, making it creak and rattle. Mrs. Tilney
moved indignantly in her chair.

"What is it now?" she said. "We expected
you before. What detained you?"

"What detained me? I wasn't able to come.
There!" he answered, rudely. "I was dining
at the mess. Have you been jolly, here? The
usual entertainment, I suppose? To be
continued every night until further notice." And
he laughed harshly.

Mr. Tilney shook his head. "My good Ross,"
he said, "you are getting a little rough. It will
be time enough, you know, when you come in
for your fortune. Put it off until then."

The other burst into a loud harsh laugh.

"By the way, I have got some news for you
all about that."

They all started. Augusta turned round from
the piano. The hands of the yellow–haired girl
were clasped fervently.

"Well?" they said, eagerly and together.

"Look at 'em! What excitement," he said,
ironically. "A nine days' wonder. Put all the
heads together to devour the great secret. Stare
me out of countenance. Do—— "

Mrs. Tilney, without any pretence of a smile
whatever, half rose and said, calmly,  I see it.
He has heard some bad news about the suit. I
know he has."

"Well, suppose I have," he answered, bitterly,
"is it not my own concern? Was it not my own
venture? I don't want any one's sympathy or
expostulations."

"Oh, William," said Ada, clasping her hands,
"this is dreadful."

"Dreadful!" said Mrs. Tilney, hardly containing
herself. " It is all his own doing. He has
brought it on himself. I have no pity for him ;
none in the world. Such sheer egregious folly
is contemptible. You are a beggar now, and you
have only yourself to thank for it."

"Pray, do I want to thank any one else for it?"
he answered, coldly. "However, it finishes the
business once for all, and I am not sorry for it."

"But what is settled?" said Mr. Tilney. "God
bless us! is it final?"

"Final, for ever," he said, impatiently. "What
is the use of giving details? Those precious
attorneys have been taking a big–wig's opinion
—Sir William Bushell's. I hope to God he has
made 'em pay. It is discovered, now, that we
never had a chance from the beginning. I