"No, I don't go to them, on principle." "That is a mistake," said his father; "there is never any harm in occasionally confronting in another what must sometime be one's own end. When I fairly realized that it was old John who was being laid under the ground there, my own contemporary, and the friend of my youth, I assure you that the things of this present, the roast and the boiled, the lands and the houses, seemed to shrink away into remarkably small compass. It puts things before one in another light."

Sir Gabriel spoke with a tempered cheerfulness, and Randulf replied, "I never thought of it in that way; I have no doubt you are right.”

“You are young, it is no wonder you have never thought of it in that way. But, as I was saying, I took remarkably good notice of this young fellow, and it was strongly borne in upon my mind that if he and old John had been much together, the roof of Scar Foot must have flown off under the violence of their disputes. He is not one of us, Randulf; not one of my kind, though he may suit your new-fangled notions."

"Did he look like a gentleman ?"

"Upon my word, I can hardly tell. Not a finished gentleman, though he had some of his grandfather's pride of bearing. But everything about him tells of the town, any one would have picked him out as belonging to a different world from ours."

son."

Randulf made no answer. He had been glancing aside, occupied in looking for the spot where he had found Judith Conisbrough, weeping. He had seen and recognized it, and with the sight of it came the remembrance of her face. Unknown "sons and son's sons" appeared to him insignificant in comparison with a woman whose sorrow he had beheld, and whose individuality had profoundly impressed him.

They rode into the court-yard at the back of the house.

"I hope he won't be away," said Sir Gabriel with an earnestness which amused his son. “It has been an effort to me to come, and I don't want to have made it for nothing."

He pulled a bell, and while they waited for a man to come, Judith Conisbrough walked into the court-yard, having come from the front part of the house. Neither Sir Gabriel nor his son knew of the presence at Scar Foot of Mrs. Conisbrough and her daughter, and were therefore proportionately surprised to see her there. She was going past them, with a bow, but Sir Gabriel, quickly dismounting, shook hands with her, and wished her good day. She gravely returned his greeting. "Are you are you staying here?" he asked, at a loss to account for her presence.

"I am, at present, with my mother, who was unfortunately taken ill here, on Saturday.” "Dear, dear! I'm sorry to hear that. Then I fear we shall not find Mr. Aglionby at home?" "He is at Scar Foot-Mr. Bernard Aglionby.

"No, I suppose not, but I choose to do so, though I am sorry for Mrs. Conisbrough and her daughters. If I find the fellow is amenable to influence, I shall let him see that the whole place would approve of his sharing his inheritance with them."

"I hope you won't burn your fingers," said his son skeptically. "For my part I am very glad not to have made the acquaintance of this redoubtable 'old John,' for, from all I can hear, he seems to have been a most odious character, and to have behaved disgracefully to these ladies."

“Well, I'm afraid there is not much to be said for him, in that respect, but after all, a son is a son, Randulf, and I can pardon a man almost

not the slightest idea," replied Judith composedly.

"Ah! I hope Mrs. Conisbrough is not seriously ill," pursued Sir Gabriel, uncomfortably conscious that the young lady looked careworn and sad, and with a sudden sense that there might be more circumstances in the whole case than they knew of, complications which they had not heard of.

No, thank you. I hope she will be well. enough to be moved in a day or two. She is subject to such attacks. As you are going to see Mr. Aglionby, I will not detain you any longer."

She bowed to both father and son, and was moving on. Randulf's horse had been taken. He returned Mrs. Conisbrough's bow, and made a step after his father, in the direction of the house. Then,, suddenly turning on his heel, he

"You looked so stern, Miss Conisbrough, that at first I thought I had better go after my papa, and not say anything to you, but-see, allow me to open this gate for you, if you are going this way are you?"

"Yes," replied Judith, repressing a smile, "but if you are going to call upon Mr. Aglionby, do you not think you had better follow Sir Gabriel?" "Directly no hurry; I never expected I should have the good fortune to meet you, or I should have ridden here more cheerfully. My father was wondering how we should get on with this man here. You know, he has the kindest heart in the world, has my father; he thinks Mrs. Conisbrough has been treated badly. There !" as Judith's face flushed painfully. "I have said the thing I ought not to have said, and offended you."

"I never offer to do things that are a bore," he assured her.

"Well, if you really don't object, I should be very glad if you would call and tell her that if it is fine this afternoon, she must set off at half-past two, and I will do the same, and we shall meet at Counterside, just half-way. I want very much to speak to her, but you can understand that I don't care to ask any one into this house, unless I am obliged, nor to send Mr. Aglionby's servants on my errands."

"So you employ your own most devoted retainer instead," said Randulf composedly, but unable to repress a smile of gratification, "I will deliver the message faithfully. Now the gate stands open. Good-morning."

Judith passed out at the gate, and Randulf has

about his lips, and inwardly saying, "I'm glad I turned back. It was a good stroke of business, after I'd racked my brains for an excuse to call there, without being able to find one."

Mrs. Aveson received him with a smile and words of welcome, and ushered him into the state parlor where already his father and Aglionby were together.

Certainly three more strongly contrasted characters could hardly have been found than the three then assembled in the parlor at Scar Foot. Each, too, was fully conscious of his unlikeliness to the other. There was a necessary constraint over the interview. Sir Gabriel spoke in high terms of the late squire. The late squire's successor listened in courteous, cool silence, bowing his head now and then, and smiling slightly in a

"Your sister Delphine," answered Randulf, leaning on the gate in a leisurely manner, as if he never meant to lift himself off it again.

"I have not seen her since Saturday. I had a note from her this morning, though-I want her to meet me. I won't have her come here, and that reminds me," she added, "that I want to find Toby, the farm boy, to take me a message

"I am going home that way. intrust the message to me?"

Couldn't you

be expected to understand. Aglionby did not protest, when this incense was burnt at the shrine of his grandfather, neither did he for one moment join in the ceremony. When, however, Sir Gabriel remarked that Mr. Aglionby had been hasty and inconsiderate sometimes, the newcomer rejoined, "I am quite sure of it," in a voice which carried conviction. Then Sir Gabriel remarked that he supposed Mr. Aglionby had not lived much in the country.

"My fame seems to have preceded me, in that respect," replied Aglionby, laughing rather sar

a loss what to say to this dark-looking person, who knew nothing of the country, and cared nothing for country-gentlemen's pursuits, who could not even converse sympathetically about the man from whom he had inherited his fortune. Mrs. Conisbrough was a tabooed subject to Sir Gabriel. And he had just begun to feel embarrassed, when Randulf came in, and afforded an opportunity for introducing a new topic, and a powerful auxiliary in the matter of keeping up the conversation, for which his father could not feel sufficiently thankful. He introduced the young men to each other, and Randulf apologized for his tardy appearance.

"I wanted to speak to Miss Conisbrough!" he said, "and stopped with her longer than I meant She had an errand for me, too, so I stayed to hear what it was."

to.

"It seems to me that you and Miss Conisbrough get on very well together," observed his father good-naturedly.

Bernard sat silent during this colloquy. What could Judith Conisbrough or her friends possibly be to him? Had he not Lizzie at Irkford? His forever! Yet his face grew a little sombre as he listened.

"Do we, sir? Well, it is but a week to-day since I made her acquaintance, but I think that any man who didn't get on with her and her sisters-well, he wouldn't deserve to. Don't you?" he added, turning to Aglionby, and calmly ignoring the possibility of any awkwardness in the topic. "I know only Miss Conisbrough, and that very slightly," said Bernard, very gravely. "She seems to me a most-charming

"You are thinking that charming isn't the word, and it is not," said Randulf. "If one used such expressions about one's acquaintances in these days, I should say she was a noble woman. That's my idea of her; exalted, you know, in character, and all that sort of thing."

"I should imagine it; but I know very little of her," said Aglionby, who, however, felt his heart respond to each one of these remarks.

"Gray cloth," murmured Sir Gabriel, polite, but puzzled.

"Gray cloth-yes. It is not an exciting, nor yet a very profitable employment. It seems, however, that if my rich relation had not suddenly remembered me, I might have continued it to the end of my days."

"Rich relation ?" began Sir Gabriel; "I thought-"

"That I had others, perhaps?" suggested Bernard, while Randulf listened with half-closed eyes, and apparently without hearing what was said.

"Well, I certainly have a vague impression-I may be quite wrong-I suppose I must be."

It is an odd thing that Miss Conisbrough also accused me of having rich relations the other day," said Bernard, and then carelessly changed the subject. The guests sat a little longer. The conversation was almost entirely between Aglionby and Sir Gabriel, but secretly the young men also measured one another with considerable eagerness, and the conclusion left in the mind of each concerning the other was, "I don't dislike him— there is good stuff in him."

At last they rose to go, and with wishes on the Danesdales' side to see more of Mr. Aglionby, and promises on his part to return their visit, they departed.

Bernard looked at his watch, paused, considered, muttered to himself, "Of course it is all right," and ringing the bell, asked Mrs. Aveson if Miss Conisbrough were out, and if she had said whether she was coming in to dinner.

"She went out for a walk to Dale Head, sir, and she didn't say when she would be back," responded Mrs. Aveson.

"Thank you," said Aglionby, and with that he went out, and, by a strange coincidence, his steps, too, turned in the direction of Dale Head.

But he was not successful in meeting Miss Conisbrough (if that were the intention with which he had set out). He saw no trace of her, though, as he passed along the beautiful road, catching

"I believe you have always lived at Irkford, have you not?"

"Yes," responded Bernard, with a look of humor in his eyes. "I was in a warehouse there. I sold gray cloth."

his lips parted involuntarily now and then, in the desire to utter to some companion-shadow what he thought of it all. But it is thin work, talking to shadows, as he felt. He returned home, found that Miss Conisbrough had come in, and was going to dine with him, and that a messenger

who had been to Yoresett had brought him a letter from the post-office of that metropolis, addressed, in a sprawling hand, to Bernard Aglionby, Esq. Rapture! It was from Lizzie!

CHAPTER XIX.-LOOKING FORWARD.

AFTER she had said good-morning to Randulf, udith walked along the rough, stony lane, with its gaps in the hedge, showing the rugged fells in the distance, and her gaze had lost some of its despondency. Indeed, she felt cheered by the little interview. She distinctly liked young Danesdale (though to her, old in care and sorrow, he seemed more like a very charming boy than a man grown, with a man's feelings), and she was conscious, with a keen thrill of sympathetic conviction, that he liked her, liked her sisters, liked everything about her. It was a delightful sensation, like the coming of a sudden, unexpected joy in a sad life. She dwelt upon his words, his manner, his gestures, from the moment in which, with the languor gone from his eyes, he had overtaken her, to his last delighted expression about her sending her own devoted retainer on her messages, instead of Bernard Aglionby's servants. It was perhaps rather a cool thing to say-at least it might have savored of impertinence if some people had said it. From Randulf Danesdale it came agreeably and naturally enough.

She would see Delphine that afternoon-an interview for which she longed greatly; she had gratified Randulf by allowing him to give her message about the meeting, and Delphine would be pleased to learn her sister's wishes from such a courier. Altogether, things looked brighter. She presently turned off to the right, into a little dell or gorge, and wandered along some paths she knew, half-woodland, half-rocky. She had come out for her health's sake, but remembering the walk in prospect in the afternoon, did not stay very long, and was utterly unconscious that at one moment, just as she was standing beneath a faded beech-tree, whose foliage was yellow and sere, and holding in her hand some variouslytinted autumn leaves which she had picked, the footsteps which she heard in the road below, and not far distant, were those of Bernard Aglionby.

Returned to the house, she went to her mother's room, who still lay white and weak-looking, though free from pain and breathlessness, upon her bed.

"See, mamma, here are some lovely leaves

"Sir Gabriel and Mr. Danesdale come to call upon Mr. Aglionby."

"You do not mean it?" exclaimed Mrs. Conisbrough, with animation, and then, after a pause, "Really to call upon him? To welcome him?" "I suppose so, mamma. I don't know why else they should have come.'

"No doubt! The king is dead: long live the king!' It would have been the same if we had been in possession," said Mrs. Conisbrough, in an accent of indescribable bitterness.

Yet she had ceased to speak of Bernard with the passionate indignation and resentment which she had at first expressed. Perhaps reflection had convinced her that opposition would be folly. Perhaps with women like Mrs. Conisbrough, many perhapses may have an influence.

"As you seem so much better, mother, I have asked Delphine to come over to Counterside, and I shall go and meet her, so that we can have a chat this afternoon. Then I can tell her how you really are."

"As you like," responded Mrs. Conisbrough, rather peevishly. "I am aware that you and Delphine cannot exist apart, or think you cannot, for more than a day, without repining. In my young days, girls used to think less of themselves."

"If you do not wish me to leave you, I will send word to Delphine not to come."

"On no account stay in for me," was the logical and consistent reply. "The walk will do you good. Did you say you had seen Mr. Danesdale?"

"Yes. It is he who has promised to call at our house, and ask Delphine to meet me."

"Ah, I see!" said Mrs. Conisbrough, in a tone so distinctly pleased and approving, that Judith could not but notice it. She turned to her mother with parted lips, then, as if suddenly recollecting herself, closed them again, and took up her sewing, at which she worked until Mrs. Aveson came to say that dinner was ready.

"Thank you. Is Mr. Aglionby going to dine now, do you know ?"