first glimpse of her face, that he might know how it fared with her.

Should he find her radiant with hope that Kathleen's marriage would in the end bring about the fulfilment of her heart's desire, and the utter loss and destruction of his own?

She came forward to meet him from the window by which she was standing, as he went in, and he saw that in her clear dark eyes there was patient courage and traces of deep feeling in the tremulousness of her delicate lips, but not the faintest gleam of personal satisfaction.

"You know, I suppose," she said, as she gave him her hand, 66 that it is indeed all over with Raymond's

happiness?"

"Yes, truly, I hear of nothing else at home; they are open-mouthed in their triumph and pleasure. It must be a terrible blow to him, for he literally doted on Kathleen, I suppose you who are so heartily his friend are thinking now how best you can help him to bear it?" He looked at her keenly as he spoke.

“I should try with all my might, no doubt," she answered, quietly, "if I thought I could still have the opportunity, but I do not now expect ever to see Raymond again." And there was a pathetic ring in her tone, as she spoke, which thrilled painfully through the young man's heart even while it leaped in exultation at the sense of her words.

"What reason can you have for such an idea, Estelle ?"

"Only my knowledge of Raymond; judging by that, I believe the first result of these dreadful tidings will be his determined exile from England -if indeed the evil consequences stop there," and she shuddered.

You think he will remain in the West Indies?" said Hugh, eagerly. "True, he has his estates there; and I know he has strong theories of duty towards the negroes on his plantations which would give him occupation and interest in that country. But, Estelle, do you not think he will wish very much to see you again?

"I think he will wish nothing but to put as much space between himself and those who have dealt him this cruel treachery as possible. He will want only to be sure that he shall never breathe the same air with Tracy Harcourt's wife; it will be hard for him to endure the breath of life at all. Oh, Hugh! if Kathleen had such a mind as could understand the torture she is inflicting on a noble spirit, she could never have carried out this bitter wrong; but she is a weak unthinking child, caught by the glitter of the world's most dazzling gifts, and flinging from her the priceless pearl of that true and tender heart!" A sob broke from her lips as she spoke.

"How it hurts you, Estelle!" said Hugh, with the astonishment which her utter forgetfulness of self always woke in him; "but you give me credit,

do you not, for having done my utmost to avert this calamity from Raymond ?"

"Yes, I do indeed; and I thank you, for his sake. I too did all I could; even, I suppose, to the extent of a final breach between myself and Kathleen?

"No, you are mistaken there," said Hugh. “I heard her say to my aunt this morning that she loved you all the better for being so warm a defender of those to whom you gave your friendship, and that she should like, if she dared to ask you, to be her bridesmaid at the wedding."

"Never!" exclaimed Estelle, with a crimson flush of indignation glowing in her face. 'Do not let Kathleen even so much as hint a wish that I should stand by and see her bound to Tracy Harcourt. And they can talk already of the details of the wedding? I could hardly have believed it!"

Why, it is to be in three weeks, and all arrangements are made-special licence, and a bishop to marry them, and Harcourt's titled relations all promising to be present. I feel inclined to follow your example, Estelle, and refuse to witness the ceremony," he added, anxious to throw himself into entire sympathy with the feelings he saw written on her expressive face.

"No, Hugh," she said, "that would not be right, you would needlessly pain your uncle and aunt. You are going with them to London to-day, I suppose ? ” They have made me promise to do so, but I mean to come back as soon as I can."

CHAPTER XXII.

HUGH CARLTON's hopes of ultimately winning Estelle Lingard had never risen so high as they did after the conversation with her last recorded. He saw clearly that she had no more idea of being ever united to Raymond now that he was free than she could have entertained when she believed his marriage with Kathleen to be an undoubted certainty; and if she was right in her impression that he would now remain finally in Jamaica, it was probable indeed that they would never meet again, and that even all correspondence between them would gradually cease. Estelle had mentioned, in the course of a few last words which passed between them before Hugh took leave of her, that she did not intend herself to write to Raymond on the subject of Kathleen's inconstancy-the announcement ought to come from the girl herself, and she had promised to make it without the delay of a single day-but Estelle had reasons, which she did not care to reveal to Hugh, for resolving that she would not write again to Raymond until the news of the marriage had actually reached him; in fact, she remembered but too well the pain with which she had borne Raymond's anger against herself on the evening before his departure, when he resented so warmly her effort to shake his faith in Kathleen's

constancy. He had thought that she misjudged his darling then, and he might think it all the more strongly now, if she tried to tell him of the final treachery which had been perpetrated against him. He must hear it from Kathleen and her parents, and when he knew, only too certainly, that her worst fears had fallen short of the fatal reality, then would she be ready again to write to him, and strive by all the devotion of her generous friendship to soothe the bitterness of his unexpected trial. She and Hugh talked over the dates of the outgoing mails, and ascertained clearly that Raymond could receive the tidings both of the intended marriage and of the fact that the ceremony had actually taken place, in time to prevent him from sailing for England at the period he had fixed to do so. He had intended to be at Carlton Hall again in the autumn, and now Estelle did not doubt that she would about that period receive a letter from him, which would tell her that he never intended to set foot on the shores of his native land again. All this she spoke of openly to Hugh, and he felt that everything now promised well for the success of his indomitable resolution to make Estelle his own as speedily as might be, and he resolved to speak to her at last of all his passionate hopes so soon as Kathleen's wedding was over. He saw that he had little chance of winning even a hearing now when her heart was full only of sympathy for Raymond in his cruel misfortune, and her loyal friendship would certainly brook no thought of her personal fortunes in these first weeks of his certain suffering.

But later, if she was confirmed in her belief that he would not return, it might be that the revelation of the love that had clung to her so long in silence and discouragement would move her generous nature to reward it then with such return as she was able to make, although Hugh could never be the object of her first and best affections.

He felt it was a rather fortunate circumstance for himself that he was to be parted from her for a few weeks in the meantime, or he might have found it almost impossible to restrain the avowal of his feelings till the time came when it would be less rash to make it than it could be now.

So with dumb lips but wildly-beating heart he took her hand to bid her farewell, and looked with wistful longing gaze into the beautiful eyes that haunted him ever, night and day, while softly echoed in the secret of his soul the name by which he ever called her in his thoughts-" Star of my life -Estelle !"

Six weeks had passed away after this parting before they met again, as the Carltons remained somewhat longer in London than they had at first intended; but they had not been returned an hour before Hugh had taken his way down to Highrock House, to see once more the face that made the sunshine of his life.

587

It was summer now, when the evenings were at their longest; and he found Estelle seated at the open window in the twilight, gazing out towards the western sky, where one pure pale star shone with silvery light within the amber glow, still lingering round the death-scene of the vanished day. Her book, which she could no longer see to read, lay open on her knee, but volumes of thought seemed written in the earnest face and upward-gazing eyes, etherealised by the dim golden light that fell upon them, reflected from the heavens.

She had swept back her dusky hair with one hand, while the other still lay upon the pages she had been reading; and Hugh stood contemplating the fair picture many minutes before she perceived his presence, while he felt that there was a purity and unworldliness in her very aspect, which seemed to elevate his whole moral being, and made him realise, more thoroughly than he had ever done previously, the blessing, as well as the happiness, she would be to him, if he could but win her.

He would put his fate to the test that same night, and with a quick step he went towards her at once, as the resolve took root in his mind, to delay not so much as an hour longer.

How thankful am I, Estelle, to see you once more!"

She started, and looked round, then put her hand frankly in his.

"How kind of you to come so soon to see me, Hugh; I knew you were to arrive to-day, but I thought you would have been too tired to come to-night."

"It is rest and peace to be with you, Estelle, as it is for me nowhere else in all the world."

She looked a little surprised at the warmth with which he spoke, but her mind was too full of the event which so much concerned Raymond, to dwell, even for a moment, on anything else.

"Tell me, Hugh," she said, "is this fatal wedding really over?"

"Yes, some time since; and Kathleen Harcourt is already on her way to Switzerland with her husband. I am charged with many messages to you from her. She had not courage to write to you herself, knowing how deeply you felt the wrong done to Raymond; but she entreated you to forgive and forget all, so far as she is concerned, and still be to her the friend you were before."

"I am Raymond's friend!" exclaimed Estelle, with a flash of fire in her dark eyes.

"She knows that well; but she hopes he may forgive her too. And she begs you very earnestly to condone a past which cannot be recalled."

Hugh spoke anxiously, for it was of no small importance to him that Estelle should be on good terms with his relations.

She looked down thoughtfully, but did not answer; and he went on.

"Poor, pretty Kathleen! You would not have thought that any error greater than weakness and instability could be attributed to her if you had seen her in her white wedding robes, with the long veil covering her lovely head, and falling to her feet. She looked more like what one could fancy an angel, than a fallible human being; and the ceremony was scarcely over, when she came to me, with her great blue eyes shining in tears, and said, 'Make Estelle love me again, Hugh!'"

"It is hard to resist that!" said Estelle, with a sad smile.

"Poor child! I think she may yet stand greatly in need of a true friend; for I cannot help having many fears for her happiness with so unscrupulous a man of the world as Harcourt. I think her mother, too, has misgivings, much as she wished her beautiful | daughter to become a peeress, she has been in very low spirits since the wedding, and much less well in health. Since we arrived at Carlton Hall to-day she has felt keenly how desolate the house appears without Kathleen. She, too, charged me to beg you to go and see her to-morrow, and to be with her as much as you could in her new and painful loneliness. She does not want to recognise the fact that you are indignant with them all for Raymond's sake, though she is perfectly aware of it; but I do think, Estelle, so far as my poor aunt is concerned at least it would be a true charity if you would ignore the past, and give her as much of your society as you can."

Still, for a few minutes, Estelle was silent, and then she said, with a heavy sigh, "If I were to follow my own inclination, Hugh, I own to you, candidly, I should like never again to cross the threshold of the house where Raymond's happiness has been wrecked, or to touch the hand of one of those who have combined for his betrayal; but I have always felt very strongly that in this suffering world, where we poor human beings are all liable to error and to pain alike, it is in no sense justifiable that we should be judges one of another, or withhold (for any seeming unworthiness) the sympathy we need

ourselves as much, and deserve as little. We cannot even tell what justice means, as applied to our fellowcreatures, for we can never know them sufficiently, in their real and hidden life, to hold the balance evenly. Vindictiveness and indignation have no right to a place in the history of any one of us, since God alone knows whose are the secret trials that call most strongly for compassion. Therefore it is not for me to refuse, even to Kathleen Harcourt, the friendship she asks, or to Mrs. Carlton any help or consolation I can give her. I will write to Kathie, Hugh, and I will go to see your aunt to-morrow, only I hope I hope they will not name Raymond in my presence."

He saw by her quivering lips what an effort she had made in speaking those words of peace, and the pent-up passion of his heart burst forth.

"Oh, Estelle, how good you are! Better and dearer than any other the world contains! Surely the charity you show to those who have offended you will be ready too for me, who only love you better than my life!" And then-as at the sound of these unexpected words she turned her large startled eyes upon him, while her sweet face grew pale under the sudden shock-he poured out all the wild boundless love he bore her, in language that appeared almost to pierce her very soul from the intensity of its depth and fire, while his whole being seemed gathered up into the impassioned pleading with which he implored her to realise the hopes on which his existence itself depended.

She could not have stopped him if she had tried. His words were like a fiery torrent that welled up from the depths of his burning heart, and would not be stayed for very anguish of entreaty.

He went on, while whiter and whiter grew her downcast face, and soon her hands were raised to cover eyes that wept for bitter pain; when, at length exhausted, he let his voice die into silence, and waited for his doom, it seemed as if the power to speak or to look up was altogether taken from her. (To be continued.)

Before considering more minutely the sig nificance of these words, let us try and realise under what circumstances they were written.