he did so ; and therefore he meant to gu up the whole length of the drive, into the ahiruh liery, and before the, windows, In order that no one might accuse hint of any clandestine dealing. "And so. Sir Francis didn't tell you," be gun Amy. And then she stopped and looked et the doctor, with the dying sunlight ou his face, and an instinctive knowledge that she was going to give him pain made her put up her left hand to Clasp its fellow round his arm. " Didn't tell me is hat r said Carl. "'Phut he and Lady Crevillon are going to lOWII , --: " on nr( going with them " No,•' said Carl, "hc did not tell me that." But it is milt• for the Benson." Oh !" ejaculated the doctor, "only fort lo ip,on !" As he said it that last ray of sunlight left the earth, and Carl's thee gtew very dark as he looked on straight into the western clouds. I So this was the plan, then. They meant to take her away into that unquiet whirl which would be so bad for her ; they meant to make her forget him if they could; perhaps they would succeed ; they meant to marry her to some more desirable catch in the •matrimonial market, if the thing were possible. Of one thing he was very certain. If she went up to town and lived the life usually lived by young ladies In their first season it would kill her. 'Amy," said the doctor, "are they mad, do you suppo.e ?" tt Who r lie did not answer. A s u llen spirit of self. renunciation crime upon him. He would give her up ; he would go to Sir Francis then and relinquish nll claim—ns if he had any claim I Well, then, he might promise never to see her again if they would leave her in peace. " It is nothing very shocking, Carl ; and it isn't my fault. You should not look angry shout it. " Angry !" repeated Carl. turning toward tier. "J'erimps it does look like anger, too. It is only because 1 find it so terrible to think of losing you, Amy. It is because I know, if no one else does, how small an exertion will he too much for you ; and I know also some thing of young lady's life in the London sea- "It will not be neees,stry for the to do all that other young ladies do.- " But you won't like being left behind." "I shall like doing what I know would please you. I shall tiski care of myself." But that was not all? There was another tear, perhaps even less easy to lay to rest than After all, was it absolutely neces that one nary that she should: gu ? had Sir Francis any real; valid authority to , take her: from Mini ?—unless. indeed, It had been her own choice to go ! Ile drew back his arm sharply its the thought occurred to him. lie wanted to ask her that question, but somehow he dreaded the answer too much to ask it. " I wouldn't go it I could help it," said Amy. " lint Sir Francis has been very kind, Carl ; and it is better to give way In a small matter like this, you know." A small matter ! It Is probable that the doc tor thought it anything but a small matter. "And then, if you would be happy about it 1 really think I should enjoy it, Carl. In six months' time I shall be twenty-one, and my own mistress.•' As though she hnd rend a certain bitter thought of his, some vague reflection of it came into Amy's own mind as they walked on slowly towards the house. When they reached the shrubbery gate, she said; all at once, " Carl, what is it you are afraid of V But he Would not tell her. Amy leaned against the gate and looked at hhh, possibly not altogether displeased nt the thought she had detected. "Say good-bye to me litre, Carl. Uwe go Into the house„ there will be Lady CreviHon, and she will watch us. We sliall haveto bow to each other like W . ° solemn ghosts, for they don't believe that I . mean to keep my word with you. Good -by e.• • " Good-bye, my love—my own dear love !" Listen,'* said Amy ; " I kiss you because you are a coward. 1 know what it is you are afraid of. People say a man's faith isn't like a woman's, and I begin to think so myself. They will not let you bind me by any engage ment, but understand, Carl, that I ant bound. Until you yourself, of yeur own free will, givg_ me hack my promise, lam yours. Remem ber that'" They passed through the gate, and came suddenly upon Mrs. Lescar, walking, to megt them, through the shrubs. Amy repressed a start of dismay, repeated " Good-bye, Carl," and ran into the house ; and the doctor shook hands with Mrs. Leiicar in some, confusion, lie fancied that she hail heard those last words. Ha thought, too, that her passionless thee was a little less calm than usual—a little touched with some taint reflection of an emo tion or which he harldly conceived her capable.. On the impulse of the moment, and under the Iniluence of tint passing sympathy, he spoke. - "Mrs. Lescar„ I ant very unhappy. I think Sir I•'rancis scarcely understands'how very much his ward stands in need of rare— how very fragile she is.'' Mrs. Lescar . smiled, gravely. '• Lady Crevlllon will see to that, I think. It Is scarcely in my father's line." " One word more," said the doctor, shim mering; " a very great favor. You will re main here, I believe. If I might sometimes - be permitted to call—to hear—there can be no great harm in my hearing occasionally through you—•' As he did not seem to know exactly what he wanted'to say, and Mrs. Lescar did, she in terrupted him to answer. She really bad ho . . touched for a moment by Amy's bold little taread, having mastered its contents some speech, and the doctor was quite right. There time since.,, , , . • . !- could he no bare in his calling at Dykehtun "A little IfitietS . 'seems' to have (lane my now and then to inquire after an old patient.' cousin no barm;' . ; said Joanna. I It might even be productive of good. So she Dr: decker would have felt that there was said, "Yes; I shall remain at Dykehant .for qulettuffice in the speech, if his faculties had the present ; Frank'will be left at home, and been awake to take it in. As it was, he felt he ift a great charge. .Come as often as you an insane desire to fling that one word back like, Dr. Seeker." ' Ito her, and say, "Bite is not your cousin ; she He made his acknowledgments and went is no relation to you." away, Amy watching him from the window i Mrti. Lescar looked very composed and quiet of her own room RH long as lie was in sight. —too quiet to hurt any one : but a wasp is Then she turned to the dressing-table, began quiet while lie stings you. to collect and pick up the little ornaments and It was the doctor's own fault that he had trinkets, and suddenly dropped them all again, read that letter. Joanna simply broke off in and put her face down on the table with a her answer to his inquiries, and said, " Per great sob. . haps you would like to see for yourself what " Oh, Carl,—Carlo ratio ! If I should die in Lady Crevillon says." that great, stupid London, and never see him What he had seen might not, at another again ! Nobody ever loved me before that I time, have taken so strong nu effect upon him. remember I Why are they so hard upon us? though he could hardly have disregarded it What does it matter to them r • altogether ; but now It fell upon that confused Dr. Seeker walked back towards the town heap of queries and doubts which Mrs. Lescar leisurely, and the moon got brighter and I had helped to pile up in his mind ; and It fell brighter above his head. Ho looked up and also upon a paragraph which he had rend in saw that there were no clouds over her—none I that morning's newspaper, and bad called near her. Surely lie might take it as a good "Lies, like most other reports." The para• omen. She danced in a thousand silver rip- I graph rim thus:— pies upon the river, and lighted up the bigred I "A marriage is on the tapis betwifen Lord stones, like a path, the whole way across. It Frederick Page and Miss Crevillon, daughter would save hint =He's walk round he thought I of the late Colonel Crevillon, and ward of Sir and he went over slipping two or three times, Francis Crevillon, of Dykehant." and hearing the water sop out of his boots as And in Lady Crevillon's letter he read, lie walked on dry land again. For this or any " Lord Frederick is very attentive, and lam other physical discomfort, he did not at that sure Amy likes him in her heart. But she moment care. He turned his face towards seems anxious and unhappy ; and unless there those woods, dark in the distance, amongst was some promise ungenerortsly extorted fr`om which he could no longer see the roof that her before she left home, which she, poor covered Amy. But the moon was shining . child, thinks it would be dishonorable to break, over it, and him, and the beautiful, quiet I cannot understand her. She evidently liked scene around him. The light of her promise hint so much at first, and now she is shy—has was in his heart ; what had he to do with any- taken to blushing ; and once after lie had been thing lint hope and loyal trust ? • here I saw her crying." CHAPTER IV. Dr. Seeker sat for some time very quiet, bill LADY CREVILLON'S LETTEIL the movement of Mrs. Lesear's long needle The young May moon grew old, and her and the flying about of a piece of crimson wool lustre faded, and Dr. Seeker began to wonder tortured him. lie got up and walked about why it was that each day's work seemed to the room, trying with all his might to find out take the heart out of him in a way It had never what he ought to do, and do it, or, at any been used to do. Mrs. Lescar could have rate, resolved to do it. Lady Crevillon's nothing to do with it. Her immovable face words were offensive enough ; the more so chilled him, it was true, and her wise, even because he knew that report had not lied when incontestible remarks and speeches ; but then it called Amy an heiress. Everything was that must have been his own fault. She al. against hint. Mrs. Lescar knew well enough ways spoke sensibly, ',when she did speak. what lie was thinking about, but she had no She was friendly towards him ; as friendly, he intention of arguing the matter with him. thought, as it was her nature to be towards She did not mean to give herself any trouble, any one. Ile had not tested her very Much, or stir in the affair at all vehemently. If he nor taken too frequent advantage of her gen- asked her opinion he should have it, as indeed oral invitation. Why 'was it that, go to Dyke- he always did have it. Imm as hopeful as he would, he always left It "Freddy Page," said Mrs. Lescar, medita with a sinking heart!—as though he had been tively. "'Why, he was a little boy in pica in the presence of a silent, secret protest fores when I first knew hint ! To be sure that against his love for Amy I—as though by the must be fifteen years ago. I suppose he is working of some subtle influence, he would about Amy's age. As a boy he was very have to come by-and-by to the aeknowledg- handsome; but good-looking- boys don't ment that he had done a thing unwise, not always develop into handsome men. — quite right, and inconsequent, since nothing All this was gall and wormwood to the doe could ever come of it ! He could not tell why for ; fretting him intolerably. What possible ' was. interest did she suppose he would take in hearing about the good looks of Frederick Page ? "Do you think," said Carl at last, weakly yielding to his pain, perplexity and' bitter longing that some one would throw a little discredit on the statement; "do you think it Is true that—that Amy—" 11e ( turned back without finishing the speech to his'ivalk up anti down the room. ~ 3)a.. Seeker," said Joanna, "believe me when I say I am very sorry for you." So she was. The calmest hearts dislike to witness suffering ; and suffering was so very palpable in the doctor's tone and manner that she could not help seeing it. " Very sorry," she repeated. •• But I al ways give my opinion frankly when it is asked ; and I always did think that this affair was unfortunate; never likely to lead to any thing but pain for you, possibly for Amy also. Opposition was a thing she would not tolerate ; the very thought of it only made her more determined and rebellious, But then she was very young, and had been so long an Invalid,, that very great allowance must be made for her." ' The doctor, touched by Site unwonted encl.- gy of that "very sorry," walked up to her anti said, putting his hands together, as he did when ho was agitated— •` Then you think, Mrs. Lescar—for I know you heard that promise of Amy's—you think I ought to release her front it ?" " 'think," said Joanna, "that you would be acting the part of a wise and generous man If you did so." The doctor stood to all appearance calmly looking down upon the wool-work, and streaks of crimson and gold crossed each other In in tricate confusion before his eyes.• ,This was the hardest thing he had ever been called upon. to do in his whole life. He was not yet sure that he could do it.. " II it is for her happiness-- , ----" he said. And then he held out his hand. •` Good-bye, Mrs. Lescar. I must think about it." Joanna looked at him with some faint stir ring of admiration, as she had looked at the two ladies who took the double ditch at Peck• et's withy-bed ; a little pity too she felt, but uo remorse. She had only acted for the best, find, so far as she knew it, had told the truth. • "Would you like this?" she said offering him the letter. "Take it if you would. It may be a help to refer to it." The doctor looked at it without a word, and wont away. But he did not•go home. lie went about the whole Sultry afternoon amongst the poorest and most wretched of his patients. ‘ll.o might have had Some dim thought of self teaching in this ; .of bringing before himself nilseg of another kind, but, so far as appear ance/weat, Infinitely greater than his own. Rabe was not very clear in his own mind More moons passed away, and the fields were getting yellow for the harvest. Through the hot sun of August the doctor walked one day across those yellow fields to the Red Ford, and thence to Dykeham. Mrs. Lescar, sitting at an open window, saw him coming up the drive at a distance, and the wool-work on which she 'was engaged dropped for a single idle moment on her lap. How long would the doctor continue to come to her for news of Amy? It came into her head just then that she would show him a letter which Lady Crevillon had written to her two or three day's ago. She was no mischief-maker; had no desire to hurt any one. In her passionless way she felt at times that it was rather a pity the young doctor had allowed himself to get into the troublesome knot. For it was now, and had been from the first, her opinion that nothing serious could ever come of the en gagement. She hardly knew why. Perhaps, as people so often do, she put together her f'riend's circumstances and her own feelings. She could never have thought of marrying the doctor. As to loving him, that was altogether another matter. If a man is your husband, of course you will love him—so Joanna held. But she, if she had been about to marry, would have looked out for what the world might look upon and approve of us a good match— a proper, perhaps wealthy; alliance. So Amy should do, of course ; and so she would find out for herself, after seeing a little of life. The sooner this foolish, childish arrangement was forgotten, the better. " Seeker's coming I" said Master Frank, putting his head into the room with noisy abruptness. Mrs. Lescar disliked a noise, but she also disliked the trouble of reproving her young step-brother, who generally maintained his right to the last word. " Come here, Frank, and pick up my wool. case. Thank you. What makes you so fond of Dr. Becker • "Because he's no end of a sw—no, ho isn't a swell, either.' Because he'S a brick." " But you know that those words are vul gar, and meaningless too. What can be the sense of calling a man a brick ? Wait a bit, I haven't done with you. Dr. Becker has busi ness with me, and I don't wish you to be in the way. You had better go on with your play until he has finished what he hait to say. to me, then you can come in." The young gentleman uttered a groan of strong disapproval, kicked over a footstool, and banged the door after him. A. quarter of an hour after that, Mrs. Lescar was sitting opposite the doctor, working awayas busily as if her daily bread had depended upon that mass of beads and tent stitch. And and Dr. Becker had a letter ip his hand, which, however, by this time he was only pretending . _ what he did it for. He never went home till the moon had risen; anothbr moon; never more the same radiant queen that had shone for LIM on the' ay night long past. Well, it had been a mistake. Better far that it had been discovered now than that she should have married him to find it out afterward. And then he went in to write lds letter ; a letter so sorrowful and tender, in spite of all his honest efforts to make it exactly what it should be, and no more ;—that the answer for which he watched daily struck him when it came, like a blow upon a broken limb. There were in Atny's envelope two words • only in answer to the letter which had cost him so much. They were. "very well l" written seemingly in careless haste ; the "V" blotted and repeated in Inverse on the fold of the paper. They could have cost her scarcely a moment, or a moment's thought, as he said in his bitterness. No hesitation ; not a single backward look of remorse for what he must stiffer. Well, wkatever that might be, he was glad that she should be unhurt. And thus they parted. CHAPTER V. AMONGST TUE FALLEN GRAIN. Dr. Seeker was right, inasmuch as her two words of answer had cost Amy no delibera• tiou. how could she 'deliberate ? lie made no charge against tier, or himself. He shut) absolved lie; from her word to him. Under the circumstnnces there was lint one thing to be done, and she did it. Lady Crevillon knew nothing of the matter rom .I.my ; knew nothing of it in fact until .he heard from Joanna ; consequently she did lot understand the sudden change of manner which was itpparent in Any just at this time. On the morning of the arrival of Carl's letter Amy l o wing sealed her own reply to it, turned to her ladyship and said— "l should like to change my mind and go with .you to-night, if I may. — Lady Crevillon made a slight gesture of astonishment before she answered— " Come by all means. But I thought you said that one hearing of ' Faust' was enough ?" Amy could not explain—" I refused for Carl's sake, and because I -knew Lord Fred- crick would be there and would join us. She said nothing, therefore, allowing Lady Crevillou to think what she liked. It was quite true that site did not care about hearing "Faust" again. It must be recollected that this was her first season in town, and she had certain angles- of simplicity and prejudice which were yet to be worn smooth. The dy ing scene frightened her. It seemed a terrible thing to see so many figures sink on their knees in the presence of a death which was only mimicry. The contrivance for taking poor Gretchen's soul to heaven appeared to her so palpably clumsy that it gave her a feel ing of relief after the awful reality of the former scene ; but she did not care to go through it all a second time. Altogether she hod not thought it would be giving up much to spend one evening at home and alone. But now all that was changed. Carl himself if lie bad seen her would have been at a loss to find the Bourse of that won derful brilliancy which rose to her eyes ; the carmine that tinted her lips, and the atmos phere of strong excitement that surrounded her. Ile might have liked to sit in the stalls and watched her furtively ; he might have looked on and dreamed himself back into the enchanted palace until Um advent of another figure, dark-robed, sinister ; the figure of Lord Frederick Page, which placed itself beside Lady Crevillon. Then he would have turned away. He could not have remained to see another man devote himself to the goddess who had once trodden the floor of his own airy castle. When Amy went home that night she did what was still more astonishing to Lady .Cre villon, unless Indeed, her ladyship reflected, Lord Frederick was in reality effacing all traces of that unhappy Redford entanglement. " Lady Crevillon," said Amy, "you remem ber the proposal you and Sir Francis were good enough to make this morning, and to which I objected ?" " Proposal ! What, about taking you to—" " Yes," interrupted Amy. ' I have no longer any objection ; indeed I should like It very much." Lady Crevillon did not this time makeany remark, as she had done about "Faust.' She was very well contented, though she could not help remembering together with the morn• ing's proposal Amy's very decided "No.. I want to go back to Dykeham ;" and wonder ing a little at the change. But of course it was all for the best. Iler ladyship knew that Joanna would take care of Frank ; she could trust her step-daughter so far, since if Joanna cared for any one in the world it was Frank. Yes, of course it was for the hest. The longer they could keep Amy away from that Bedford man the better. And the unhappy doctor went about his work as usual, and did his best to hear his sor row !ike a brave man, stopping every now and then in the midst of other thoughts to think .about her, stopping in his ountry walks to lean over stiles and watch, first the green hay tly about from the ponderous, many spiked machines of blue and red ; after that the corn as it Mil down before the scythes and sickles of the reapers, and finally the motley throng of gleaners, legal and illegal, who rush ed in to quarrel over the fragments of the spoil and to announce that harvest was over. Dr. Seeker moved amongst these, un absent spectator ; hearing the sounds of them dully, as one hears the accompaniment to an air. He was far away in the big city of cities. He was in a mighty region of the mighty west. He was here and there in the flash of a polish. ed scythe in the sunlight, and the busy tinkle of the whetstone was to him the fair-off music of trained bands. Ile saw the Serpentine where other eyes looked down upon the pleas ant dyke. The gate on which he leaned be came to him the railing of Rotten Roe. And as be looked upon the riders he saw—who was that fairest amongst the fair equestrians, and who was her escort ? Not Sir Francis, but the other one, the bay on the other side ? In tnitively he sketched the portrait of the young noble. The dainty town-bred pallor, the light downy moustaches and villiskerless young cheeks, the splendid riding equipment, and the glossy horse with a neck like Diana's bow. Row could he, Carl Becker, ever have thought to keep to himself a pearl so rare as that one lost to hint now ! When the harvest was over there was a thanksgiving service, and a great - day of fes tivity and repiting in Redford. ; The doctor had not meant to be present aniongst the mer rymakers • he was not ilia state of mind for that sort of thing. • He thought 10 should do better by going to visit those whOtn feebleness or Infirmity would keep-S. D:WM His pa tients said of him that his manner was gentler and kinder than it had ever been ; as perhaps it was. But when in passing homewards he saw the big tent and the flag flying above 'lt; Dr. Seeker stopped as ho used , to stop and watch the reapers, to look over the hedge into the field. He saw men and women who.had feasted and were merry ; he saw big boys and little boys tumbling over each other for the very glee and abandon of the thing, to the music of the " Dixie's Land Polka," the most popu lar melody which the Redford band had on its list. The doctor saw also a group of ladies and gentlemen standing in the entrance to the tent, and while he was looking on, Mrs. Les. car and Frank left the group - and moved alit ' tle farther up the field. Carl had not troubled Mrs. Lescar much of late ; he had rather held aloof from any meeting with her. Through her the stab had come ; and however little she had been to blame, the sight of her was not pleasant to his eyes. But now it came into his mind that September was nearly over, and the Dykeham family would probably be coming back soon. It was nothing to him, of course, but still he thought he should like to know ; so he went into the field and joined the two as they stood near the impromptu orchestra. " They all seem very happy, don't they ?" said Mrs. Lescar. " I have been helping to supply these people with tea, Dr. , Becker. I wonder what you, as a medical man, would have thought of the quantity of that fluid and of ponderous plum cake which a single indivi dual can make away with." " Poor things !" said the doctor. "They , don't get it very often, some of them." "No A very good thing for them, too, .1 should say." The doctor refrained from asking any ques• tion. He was certain that Joanna knew what lie had joined her for, and be would not give her the triumph of seeing his impatience. Lsuppose you won't stay here long," he said. " The days begin to close in early." "No, we shall "be going directly. You never come to Dykeham now, Dr., Becker. Too busy, I suppose? I heard from Lady Crevillon this morning. They are— Frank, Frank, bow very rude ! Let me beg—" " Never mind' him," interrupted the doctor. "Frank and I are old friends. They aroma lug home, did yuu say 1" "No. Going down the Rhine. Probably thence to Rome, but the route seems uncer tain." _ The doctor would have liked to go away then but he felt Joanna's eye upon hint, callily curious, as though she wondered, just as &matter of curiosity, how this news affected him.. I hope—that they Brasil well," said Carl. " Quite well; I believe, thank you. Lady Crevillion Bays my cousin is anticipating the journey with great delight. But that iambi. ral ; she has never been able to travel much before. I believe Lord Frederick Page and sister are about to take a similar tour." In all this Carl felt, with a sting of exas perated rebellion, that there was cruelty—cold and tranquil cruelty. He could forgive her for playing with him a little at first. People do that sometimes to increase their own im portance as the holders of valuable Informa tion ; but she need not have told him about Amy's delight. Why did she do it Wailt experimental, or for the mere p:essuriof Using her power to torment ? He said something about Begetting late, and took off his hat to her, eschewing the custom. ary handshake. • !oanna's hand was cold, like herself. He could feel through her glove; passionless, limp, incapable of givinga strong healthy grasp. Ile was not to get away then, however. He had forgotten Master Frank's effortsto attract his attention ; but the young gentleman was at his elbow before he got to the gate of the field. " I say, why wouldn't you listen tome just now? Can you row, dieter?" " , Row I" repeated Carl, helplessly. "Row what 1" " A boat, to be sure. I'm going to have one. Pecket, the basket-maker, has got one, and it only wants painting up. It's to be painted green, and it will cost a lot of money ; but it's to be a regular little clipper. I Mall keep it under the willows in Davis' Hole; bu mind, you are not to tell." To the doctor's mind, distracted with other thoughts, the boy's speech was very hazy but he heard something about the boat, and Davis' Hole and tried to subdue his own bit patience, and humor the lad's enthusiasm for the new toy, as he generally did. " It's to be a yacht, complete; eh t Sails and rigging, of course, and a crew from LLW put. Well, I'll come and see you sail it some day ; but mind, Frank, don't you go too near Davis' Hole. Remember what It was named from. Keep it to the ponds in the park.". Tho doctor did not see the look of amaze. ment and contempt with which Frank received his advice, nor hear the tone in which the boy repented to himself, "See me sail it I Keep to the ponds in the park, indeed I" He was too much occupied to think anything more just then of Frank or his amusements. "Amy was aticipating the journey with much de. light ;" and Lord Frederick would be with her. Well, it was quite clear that he himself bad done right ; nay, it was just possiblethat Mrs. Lesear had been actuated by a kindly motive in telling him all this, and .he had wronged her. She might have wished to sat isfy him as to the wisdom of his proceeding. Yes, of course lie had done right ; and now it was'all over, and he could never hope .to see Amy again, unless, indeed, he saw her as the wife of Lord Frederick Page. He hoped he never might do that. He said words which were not gentle at all respecting Lord Fred erick, in which he was uojuat, since Lord Fred. crick had never injured knowinglyin any way •, but people in the doctor's present dr cutnstances are rot always just. He looked up at the blank windows of his house with • dull impatience, if there had only been , some stirring time before him—some great rush of work or excitement ! But to go on in the same mill-horse round of visits; to bear pa. tiently with tho garrulous list of new 'wrap. toms of the hypochondriac up 'at Redford Grange, who expected tosee tilos daily, and to have a daily change of treatment • to listen to and answer the well-known phra ses of his richer patients ; and then the never.failing s '• Ah, thin, doctor sure it's the drink 'lices him ; if it wasn't for that he'd be as good to us as gold," of the Irish quarter. And alt this with the consciousness sore about his heart that the one star which had filled his path with tender light was gone from the eirY. to shine no more for him. CONTINUID IN WEST INIIII4
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