"I believe you; bad as I think you, I do not believe you to be so callous as to consent to such a scheme," rejoined Linden, without looking up. Oh, when, when will aid come?"

*

And Herbert was a homeless, houseless wanderer. At that very moment, weary and tired with his long journey, he was lying on a green bank, many, many miles distant, his bright head pillowed on one arm, wrapped in a delicious dream. The trees spread their giant arms above him, to shut out the envious sunbeams from the fair-haired boy; the wind, as it swept past, gambolled for a moment with those sunny locks as if enamoured of their beauty: it blew cool and refreshing on his fevered cheek, and murmured a lullaby in his ear; the tiny stream, as it danced merrily away under the green alders, mingled with his dreams; the linnet twittered on its mossy nest; even the early violets peeped out from the bank above, and smelt sweeter and sweeter as Herbert dreamed of Cecil and Eleanor, and smiled in his dreams.

He had been footsore, and his head had ached, and he had felt, for the first time in his life, the pangs of hunger; but these were all forgotten now: Cecil was bending over him, he thought, and Eleanor's hand was close locked in his own; he was at dear Delaval once more, and he was happy.

CHAPTER XIV.

A brief description of the company assembled at Lady Susan's fete, which finishes with a catastrophe.

NOTHING that Eleanor Clarendon had yet experienced, since her arrival at Leven, had given her so much pure, unalloyed happiness as her visit, short and fleeting as it was, to Fernilee. The noble character of Eric Dennison contrasting so strongly with the eccentric, yet equally remarkable, Lady Susan; and Lucy's gentle, unassuming sweetness of temperament, with the holy calm and serenity that seemed ever to brood over the

lovely cottage and its fairy demesne, mingled even with her dreams, and made her more than once sigh to behold the fair reality once more.

But the all-eventful Tuesday,--the all-dreaded and all-wishedfor, came at last; and, from early morn till dewy eve, every one, from the very turnspit in the kitchen up to Lady Susan, were as busy as bees. All the horrid, ten thousand, abominable, petty miseries of preparation, the purgatory through which those who wish to have the eclat of giving an entertainment have to pass before they enter upon the paradise of enjoyment: the turning of a decent, well-conducted, orderly house out of windows, consigning respectable pieces of furniture to oblivion and the lumber-room, and marshalling in their stead the pink forms and the chalked floors, the orchestra and the supper-room, with its sly corners for delightful flirtations; the aust, and the hurry, and the noise and clatter of ten thousand tongues; all and every one of these had Eleanor experienced, until she was sick, and sated, and weary, and would have wished above all things that she could steal away to her own little boudoir, had not one or two circumstances in some measure alleviated her misery, and reconciled her in a degree to her present fate.

One of these was simply that Lucy Dennison, gentle and self-possessed as ever, had come over early in the carriage Lady Susan had sent for her: and, as if understanding and sympathising with the pitiable strangeness Eleanor felt in such a heterogeneous company, all of whom were perfect strangers to her, Lucy kept close by her side whenever Lady Susan left her for a short time, to play the amiable to her guests.

This, however, was but seldom, for the buzz of admiration that arose when Eleanor first appeared, leaning on her old relative's withered arm, was so sweet to the old lady's ears, and the sounds were so strange within the venerable walls of Leven Castle, that Lady Susan, to whom such sounds were as the reflected homage of her own faded charms, very wisely retained her lovely guest as much as possible beside herself, enjoying with her own keen zest and spitefulness Eleanor's elegant manners and high-bred beauty, when contrasted with the red arms, high cheek-bones, red hair, and awkward demeanour, of too many of the daughters of the surrounding families.

"You are a perfect rosebud to-night, love," whispered she, in her most honied accent, tapping, in an approving manner, Eleanor's glowing cheek with her fan, glancing as she spoke admiringly over Eleanor's elegant figure, the Hebe-like proportions of which were set off to such advantage by the simple white muslin dress trimmed with rich lace, and which, with this

exception, could not boast of the slightest ornament; "ah ! what beautiful hair that is, Eleanor!" twining one of Eleanor's glossy raven curls over her own withered fingers. "Now, child, dance only with those I introduce particularly to you. When I only bow, and say, Mr. Alexander Mac Shake, or Mr. Alexander any body else, you must understand that I don't wish you to accept such boobies as partners. But when I cry out, Eleanor, my love, Mr. Norman Macdonald, or, Sir Charles St. John, then call up the most winning smile from the vasty deep of your charms, and dance with them by all means. There now, you've got your lesson, and now go, child, and remember it." Poor Eleanor! she felt dizzy, and sick, and guilty, all at once. What a deception had Lady Susan's words suggested to her! She was to become a mere puppet in the hands of a cold, heartless, scheming monster, whose heart was as dry and withered, and passionless as a mummy's. It was a relief that at that moment Lucy Dennison's bright, happy face beamed upon her, and Lucy's voice in the sweetest of tones cried out,

"Dear Miss Clarendon, do take me to your own room and summon Carson to our counsels, or I never shall get ready in time to make a respectable debut below."

Eleanor cheerfully obeyed by leading the way to her own apartments, Lucy following with a thousand protestations and apologies, which had the effect of dispelling the disagreeable visions Lady Susan's words had called up. No one could be sad five minutes when Lucy Dennison was in their company, for she had the rare faculty of infecting others with her own. cheerfulness; and Eleanor detected herself laughing heartily almost before they had sat down, on gaining her retreat.

"This is quite cosy, dear Miss Clarendon," said Lucy, gaily, as she glanced approvingly round the elegant dressing-room, on the mirror-table of which a pair of wax candles were burning, whilst a bright fire was blazing up the chimney; "but we really have so little time, and I have so much to do, that Carson must be rung for at once."

"I know what a woman's must is sufficiently well to obey you, instantly," said Eleanor, smiling, as she rang the bell for her maid; "can I assist you at all, Miss Dennison?

Lucy answered by a very grave shake of the head; and then approaching Eleanor, whose beauty had never looked so brilliant before, so charmingly did the simple white dress set off her exquisitely lovely features, she stooped, and kissed her brow.

"I intend never to call you any thing but Eleanor, if you will allow me in future," said she, rather seriously.

"I shall be most happy, provided you will allow me to call you simply Lucy," said Eleanor, with great simplicity.

"Then that is agreed upon," and Lucy smiled again, as she turned round and added, "ah, here is Carson. Carson, pray make me a decent figure with as little delay as possible."

The gay little soubrette,- for Carson, though an English girl, had received her professional education and her name in Paris,-immediately proceeded to follow her directions by producing from Lucy's boxes the simple grey satin robe, and rich yet sober mantle, she intended to wear on this eventful occasion; and after half an hour, at the very least, had been consumed in arranging these to the entire satisfaction of all parties, Lucy took Eleanor's arm, and the two friends proceeded in search of Lady Susan, who had in the interval sent two footmen in search of them.

They found her ladyship in the saloon, in which Lucy said she usually received her company. The stiffest of brocades and the most elaborate of head-gears, the most condescending of smiles and the sweetest phrase, distinguished her ladyship on this particular evening; she had even laid aside her highheeled shoes, her rose buckles, and her gold-headed cane, and looked, divested of all these, like one of those strange, fantastic, mysterious old fairies one reads of in fairy tales, who have good and evil spells at command, as fate or caprice requires. In the blaze of light which saluted Eleanor as she entered, she had at first some difficulty in recognizing her ancient hostess in her new costume, and Lady Susan soon diverted her from admiring her diamonds and point lace, by calling her attention to the taste with which the room was decorated, which was in reality both very chaste and very elegant.

"Come here, children," and Lady Susan led the way from one suite of rooms to another, followed by Eleanor and Lucy, "will not this little conservatory do charmingly for the dancers to turn into, when they get too heated in the rooms? and by a very simple contrivance Mac Graw has, by aid of a verandah, extended the supper-room upon the lawn in front, so that an adventurous swain may cajole his partner into a stroll through the shrubberies, before she well knows herself clear of the house;" and Lady Susan laughed, gaily, as she directed their attention to this simple little ruse.

"My lady," said a footman, gliding noiselessly into the room, "Sir Price and Lady Hunter have come."

"Well, John, let them wait. Show them into the saloon." And Lady Susan turned round, and went on with what she was saving, "I dote on a surprise in an affair like this, girls; any

thing for a sensation, for nothing is more wearisome than the endless, uneventful round of modern entertainments. I hope you will both aid me in making my fete pass off gaily. You, Lucy, know every one so well that-"

"Had we not better go to the saloon, Lady Susan?" interposed Lucy; "poor Lady Hunter will be so awkward if any one else comes before you arrive yourself."

"No, no," retorted Lady Susan, who seemed to have some motive for delaying her return to the saloon as long as possible; "let Lady Hunter receive my guests, if any should arrive. Ha! there comes a second carriage. Eleanor, one of those lovely orangebuds in your hair would complete your tournure. There, love, now you are unique," and having placed the dark green leaves in Eleanor's beautiful tresses, Lady Susan held her at arm's length for a moment, and a strange, peculiar smile crossed her sharp withered features as she said, "and now, my love, you are superb."

Lucy smiled, although in reality her ears were distracted by the crash and din of carriages which had now commenced; and still the perverse old lady lingered, as if the very last business she had to do in the world was to receive the company she had thus summoned to her abode. And still the crash, and din, and noise, and uproar, waxed more furious, and the startled domestics ran hither and thither, followed by troops of elaborately dressed squires and squiresses, and doors banged right and left, and feet went pattering upstairs and down, and there was a rustling of satins, and a creaking of boots. And still Lady Susan kept her two companions beside her, smiling at Lucy's bewilderment and Eleanor's nervousness, until at length she threw her train over one arm, and taking hold of Eleanor with the other, led the way, followed by Lucy, to the saloon.

The terrible Mr. Mac Graw, with a white wand in his hand, was waiting to announce her; and, as Eleanor passed along the brilliantly lighted vestibule, with its crowd of footmen all hurrying to present themselves before the haughty Lady Susan, she could scarcely prevent herself from feeling that all this pomp and parade made even Lady Susan's faults pardonable. But her speculations were abruptly cut short by Mac Graw's opening the door to its fullest extent, and announcing with stenorian lungs, "Lady Susan Clarendon-Miss Clarendon-Miss Dennison."

Eleanor felt a whirl of emotions crowding upon her. She neither saw that the room was full of company, every one of whom were scrutinising her with lynx-eyed curiosity, nor that Lady Susan's triumph was complete. The surprise and pleasure she felt had literally intoxicated her, and thus absorbed in her