Ralph gazes at her a few moments as she works on, all unconscious of his presence. The slanting rays of the setting sun fell on her bare head, making the hair look almost golden in the soft light, as she stands there surrounded by sweet-scented, full-tinted flowers and shrubs.

One glance shows Ralph all this. His eyes have been yearning for a sight of his betrothed for long days and months, and now he seems to take in all in one long, absorbed gaze. Then he goes towards her.

A

CHAPTER XVII.

"SO NEAR, AND YET SO FAR.”

LICE hears the step, but does not look up; she thinks it is White, the gardener, come in to close the sashes before sunset.

"Alice, my darling!"

A wild cry of surprise and joy is the answer. Down fall the flowers so tenderly handled a while ago, and for a moment Alice is held closely to Ralph's heart.

Only for a moment though; she quickly recovers from her confused astonishment, recollection returns, and her joy fades out, as she quickly draws herself from his encircling

arms.

"Oh, Ralph, where have you been so long?"

"I only returned to England yesterday; so you see I lost no time before I came to see you."

"But where have you been hiding all these months? I thought you were dead, or had forgotten me. Why didn't you answer my letters, Ralph ?”

"Oh! I would fain ask you the same question, my darling. I have written and written, times without number, and have looked in vain for a reply from you." "How strange that is! Did direct you letters here?" your "No, Alice; I thought you were still at Kingston; there must be a whole packet of letters lying there for you."

Ralph would fain dismiss that subject at once; what

cares he for missing letters now he has Alice herself beside him? One moment of her presence is better than all the epistles she could write.

He even grows impatient at her pertinacity in still questioning him.

"I cannot make it out, Ralph; how could the letters all have gone astray? There must be some strange mystery about them. If only one had reached me, I should have been, oh, so brave and comforted, so much might have been saved, and I should never have been so bewildered and unhappy. I thought you had given me up, and had no longer any place for me in your memory."

"No place for you in my memory!" echoes Ralph, as he once more impetuously tries to draw Alice towards him.

What further explanations, or confidences, or confessions might have taken place between them will be for ever a mystery, for, at the moment, another step is heard entering the conservatory, and the imposing figure of Mrs. Burges is seen at the opened door.

She has on a garden hat, trimmed with bright green ribbons, a dress of the same hue with cerise bows and fringes; the very blossoms look pale and subdued beside her gaudy show of colours.

Alice has been a long time gathering the flowers, so she has come out to help her finish the task before it grows dark. She wants to fill one or two more dainty vases in honour of guests who are expected at Grey Towers to dinner that evening.

Mrs. Burges can hardly believe her eyes; she sees Alice beside a man in a travelling dress, with a valise on his shoulders. Surely he is holding her hand, and looking down into her eyes as though he would fain read their every glance and meaning.

Mrs. Burges bustles up towards the pair, much wrath in her heart, and much indignation rising to her tongue, when Ralph turns round and discovers the irate lady.