CHAPTER XVIII.

„Ich dachte an ihn! Es ist doch das Denken
Ein gar zu köstliches, süßes Gefühl!

Sich ganz in der schönen Erinnerung versenken,
Was geht wohl über dies heitere Spiel?"

KORNER.

NESTA and I spent the next morning in strolling about the garden and the wood. We might go where we liked without fear of disturbing any one, for Charlie and Mr. Carr had started early on a ride to the railway station to inquire about a parcel of books which Lady Helen wanted. A few lines left by Charlie on the hall table informed me of this fact. Squeezed into a corner of the paper was a postscript in a different hand-" Don't make any plans for the afternoon till we return." I overlooked the words on first glancing through the note. It was the sudden flush which came over

Nesta's face when I handed the paper to her that made me examine it again.

"We shall not be allowed to make plans now that Lady Helen is well enough to plan for us," I said, in reply to an anxious look Nesta turned on me; "we shall have no choice left us, you will find.” I was right; for in the course of the morning Lady Helen came into our room shawled and bonneted. "She was very sorry," she said, "to seem to hurry us away, but if we could be ready she thought she would order the carriage to come round at oncewhile the day was fine she thought a drive would do her good-an hour or two later she might not be able to enjoy it."

Of course we could make no objection. We were ready when the carriage came to the door, and received warm thanks and praises from Lady Helen for our speed and punctuality.

So it fell out that our good-bye to Mr. Carr was waved from the carriage as he and Charlie passed us on the Deepdale road, at such a fast gallop that they could not stop their horses till we were out of hearing.

If an overpoweringly glad welcome can make up for a cold farewell, there was warmth enough in our

reception at Deepdale to put the coldness of Broadlands out of our minds. I confess it had a very

When Lady Helen had we found ourselves sur

soothing effect upon me. taken her departure, and rounded with honest faces, beaming heartfelt satisfaction upon us, I felt more at ease than I had ever done since I left home. I wondered how Nesta, who must know that all this sunshine of kindness shone on her account, could keep her downcast looks unaltered.

There was nothing in all that passed that could embarrass her. She, indeed, received the warmest welcome, as being the first friend, but I was not without my share of distinction; and having every disposition to enjoy being made much of, I permitted myself to be pleased with a good grace.

Before dinner was over, by which time our host had entirely won my heart by asking if I were related to a clever young Mr. Scott, whom he had met at an agricultural meeting in the west country, I felt quite at home with every one, and, perhaps, permitted my new friends to perceive my satisfaction too plainly. What conduced chiefly to set me at ease was, that the one member of the family whose attention would have troubled us, was considerate enough

to keep in the back-ground. Lady Moorsom pitied Nesta, and prescribed globules for a headache which she pleaded in excuse for her silence and want of appetite; Miss Moorsom chattered to her, and praised everything about her, from the manner in which she plaited her hair to the open-worked hem of her handkerchief; Sir John explained to me the map of his estate, and repeated, word for word, a conversation he had had with Hilary on the relative merits of deep and shallow draining. Mr. Moorsom, meanwhile, ensconced himself in a dark corner of the room, with a very antiquated agricultural journal, and though his eyes certainly took long holidayexcursions from his book, he never did anything to remind us of his presence, except when his father directly called on him for information, or Miss Moorsom insisted on his leaving his retreat to be enchanted with Nesta's singing or wretched on account of her headache. When questioned by his father he answered as sensibly as Hilary himself might have done; and when his sister's appeals forced him to render Nesta some service, his hesitating manner seemed, I thought, to appeal to her good-nature to exonerate him from the charge of having any share in his sister's manœuvres.

Lady Helen would have been enchanted with me if she had overheard my part in an argument into which Nesta and I fell when we were alone in our room that night. We talked long and eagerly, but it was very unlike one of our old home talks. In the middle of it I discovered that, for the first time in our lives, we were talking at each other; busying ourselves angrily with a question, which we only cared for because it represented a hidden feeling each saw in the other's heart, and dare not attack openly.

The ostensible subject of our quarrel was the comparative attractions of Broadlands and Deepdale. I praised our new abode, Nesta defended the one we had left; we grew quite hot and angry in support of our opinions, and said sharp things to each other; till at last, as Nesta was expressing her contempt for my preference of Lady Moorsom's trim garden to the untidy lawn at Broadlands, she broke down into an agony of tears—an agony which all my caresses could not for a long time soothe away. It was ridiculous, she acknowledged between her sobs, to cry because I did not agree with her in admiring a garden-too ridiculous-she did not understand what made her feel so-and yet