and began, without preface, as if he knew
she had been listening to all that had
passed:

"Miss Hale, I had a round-robin from some
of my men—I suspect in Higgins'
handwriting—stating their wish to work for me, if
ever I was in a position to employ men
again on my own behalf. That was good,
wasn't it?"

"Yes. Just right. I am glad of it," said
Margaret, looking up straight into his face
with her speaking eyes, and then dropping
them under his eloquent glance. He gazed
back at her for a minute, as if he did not know
exactly what he was about. Then sighed;
and saying, "I knew you would like it," he
turned away, and never spoke to her again
until he bid her a formal "good-night."

As Mr. Lennox took his departure,
Margaret said, with a blush that she could not
repress, and with some hesitation,

"Can I speak to you to-morrow? I want
your help about—something."

"Certainly. I will come at whatever time
you name. You cannot give me a greater
pleasure than by making me of any use. At
eleven? Very well."

His eye brightened with exultation. How
she was learning to depend upon him! It
seemed as if any day now might give him
the certainty, without having which he had
determined never to offer to her again.

CHAPTER THE LAST.

EDITH went about on tip-toe, and checked
Sholto in all loud speaking that next morning,
as if any sudden noise would interrupt
the conference that was taking place in the
drawing-room. Two o'clock came; and they
still sate there with closed doors. Then there
was a man's footstep running down stairs;
and Edith peeped out of the drawing-
room.

"Well, Henry?" said she, with a look of
interrogation.

"Well!" said he, rather shortly.

"Come in to lunch!"

"No, thank you, I can't. I've lost too much
time here already."

"Then it's not all settled," said Edith,
despondingly.

"No! not at all. It never will be settled,
if the 'it' is what I conjecture you mean.
That will never be, Edith, so give up thinking
about it."

"But it would be so nice for us all,"
pleaded Edith. "I should always feel comfortable
about the children, if I had Margaret
settled down near me. As it is, I am always
afraid of her going off to Cadiz."

"I will try when I marry to look out for a
young lady who has a knowledge of the
management of children. That is all I can do.
Miss Hale would not have me. And I shall
not ask her."

"Then, what have you been talking
about?"

"A thousand things you would not
underderstand. Investments, and leases, and value
of land."

"Oh, go away if that's all. You and she
will be unbearably stupid if you've been talking
all this time about such weary things."

"Very well. I'm coming again to-morrow,
and bringing Mr. Thornton with me to have
some more talk with Miss Hale"

"Mr. Thornton! What has he to do
with it?"

"He is Miss Hale's tenant," said Mr. Lennox,
turning away. "And he wishes to give
up his lease."

"Oh! very well. I can't understand
details, so don't give them me."

"The only detail I want you to understand
is, to let us have the back drawing-room
undisturbed, as it was to-day. In general, the
children and servants are so in and out, that
I can never get any business satisfactorily
explained; and the arrangements we have to
make to-morrow are of importance."

No one ever knew why Mr. Lennox did
not keep to his appointment on the following
day. Mr. Thornton came true to his time;
and, after keeping him waiting for nearly an
hour, Margaret came in looking very white
and anxious.

She began hurriedly:

"I am so sorry Mr. Lennox is not here,—he
could have done it so much better than I.
He is my adviser in this"——

"I am sorry that I came if it troubles you.
Shall I go to Mr. Lennox's chambers and try
and find him?"

"No, thank you. I wanted to tell you how
grieved I was to find that I am to lose you as
a tenant. But, Mr. Lennox says, things are
sure to brighten"——

"Mr. Lennox knows little about it," said
Mr. Thornton, quietly. "Happy and fortunate
in all a man cares for, he does not understand
what it is to find oneself no longer young—
yet thrown back to the starting-point which
requires the hopeful energy of youth—to feel
one half of life gone, and nothing done—
nothing remaining of wasted opportunity but
the bitter recollection that it has been. Miss
Hale, I would rather not hear Mr. Lennox's
opinion of my affairs. Those who are happy
and successful themselves are too apt to make
light of the misfortunes of others."

"You are unjust," said Margaret, gently.
"Mr. Lennox has only spoken of the great
probability which he believes there to be of
your redeeming—your more than redeeming
what you have lost—don't speak till I have
ended—pray don't!" And collecting herself
once more, she went on rapidly turning over
some law papers, and statements of accounts
in a trembling hurried manner. "Oh! here
it is! and—he drew me out a proposal—I
wish he was here to explain it—showing that
if you would take some money of mine,
eighteen hundred and fifty-seven pounds,
lying just at this moment unused in the bank.