Now the face was softened into absolute
sweetness.  Agnes thought it so lovely at
that moment, she could not choose but look
at it; she could not choose but feel it familiar,
and her confidence no longer seemed
unnatural.  Nevertheless, she paused.

"You are not afraid of talking to me?"
said Rosamond, simply.  " Tell me more of
your old home.  I know you must like to
talk of it, and I like to listen."

And so Agnes went on talking, and Rosamond
listened.

It was natural that the sister should insensibly
slide back to the subject of her
brother.  Agnes found herself telling Miss
Bellew of all the circumstances of their
position.  True, none needed to be kept
secret, and most of them Rosamond might
already have learned from her father.
Perhaps, she had.  However that might be,
she kept very still, while Agnes told her how
the failure of a bank soon after their father's
death had ruined them, and how at first
Leonard had tried to support his mother
and sister in their old home by teaching in
the neighbourhood.

"But our mother died; and, soon after, an
old friend of my father's offered Leonard
employment in translating, if he would
come and live in London.  So we left the
old place, and went to live in London
lodgings.

"It must have been a sad change."

" In many respects it was.  And then
our rich uncle Fellows wrote to offer Leonard
a share in some great Indian concern of his.
He had been unfriendly with the family for
years, but now he wrote.  And when Leonard
declined, he sent back an angry letter, renouncing
all connection with him for ever."

"Your brother declined ? "

" Yes. Shall I tell you why ? You guess
— he would not leave me.  We two were
alone in the world then.  I feel ungrateful
sometimes."

She paused, blushing.

" Perhaps, when I am married, Leonard
may go  — "

"To India?"

" Yes.  I often fancy he thinks of it.  If
it had not been for me, he might have made
his fortune there by this time.  His useless,
troublesome sister, who now, after all, will
leave him ! " sighed Agnes, with a pensive
look in her brown eyes.

"You are to be married, then? Soon ? "

" In the spring, when his ship is expected
home.  He is a sailor," added she, with
a girlish flush and a rapid glance at her
companion.

" Is he ?  And will he have to go to sea
again after you are married — to leave you ? "
" No, indeed.  I shall go with him, wherever
he goes.  No need — no right— no reason
that I should ever leave him when I am his
wife!" cried Agnes. "That is the happiness!"

Again she paused, with a bright blush.
Again Rosamond's eyes perused her face with
a kind of tender exultation in what she read
there.  Her lips parted, as if to speak, but
she checked the impulse, and sat mute ; her
head a little drooped, her hands lightly
clasped upon her lap — musing, most likely.

Leonard's eyes first fell on that fair picture
as he entered the room ; for the door
opened noiselessly — as all doors were educated
to do in that house— and he stood before
them before they were aware.  Both the girls
started : both blushed.  Agnes smiled gladly
on seeing her brother.  Rosamond moved
away to awaken her father.

Mr. Bellew became conversational.  The
children were summoned to bed, and tea-time
arrived.

Rosamond presided over the tea-table.  It
was pleasant to see her at its duties, all the
surrounding appointments being, after their
several ways, in graceful, delicate, and refined
harmony with herself.  She said little,
even to Agnes, who sat by her side.  She
appeared entirely intent on the office before
her: only an occasional lighting up of the
dark eyes, a radiant flow of colour to the
transparent cheek betrayed that she listened
to the animated discourse between the two
gentlemen.  Mr. Bellew liked talking with
his clerk; he was too clever himself not to
value intellect in another; and it was not
the first agreeable evening he had owed to
the society of Leonard Ross.  The old gentleman
was intelligent, cultivated, in a certain
sense, and sagacious.  All his most
genial characteristics came out on such occasions.
He paid studious little courtesies
to Agnes; he was kind and friendly beyond
kindness to Leonard.  As he leaned back
in his velvet chair, his fine head with its
white hair, his clear blue eyes, his well-cut
features, made a pleasant picture of
flourishing old age.  All the harsher points
were lost, which sometimes made his hale
countenance stern and hard of aspect, even to
cruelty.

Agnes had thought of him even with
affection; and of Rosamond her appreciation
had been warm even to enthusiasm.
"Had been," for things were changing now,
and the joy of the time seemed slipping
away from Leonard's sister.  The graceful
luxury of the surroundings satisfied her
taste; attracted her fancy, as before. Rosamond
sat fair and brilliant, like a star shining
in the midst of a cloud, or a diamond set in
snow — as Agnes had been thinking to herself.
Leonard was there, too.  All was warmth:
glowing, generous, cordial warmth.  Yet
Agnes felt chilled, and was no longer at
peace.

The evening went by, and the time of
departure drew near.  Rosamond took Agnes
to her room.  That exquisite little dressing-room
had delighted Agnes a few hours
before.  The rose-pink hangings ; the mirrors