LOVE REASONS NOT. CHAPTKR XXVIIL now ir IIAI Tsn). " Mother," said Lord Chandos, " I never knew a month pan as thit has doLe the ,uy. have wing*. It i* the sixteenlh to- day, and it <loei not Men to be twenty- four hour* iiicr it was the first." " That ihows, at least, that life hat been plu4Dt to you'" iil the counteu. ' Yee, it hai been very pleasant," he replied, and then tighed deeply. " Why do you ligli, Lance? The future can be u pleasant ai the put, can it not V* He looked up half impatiently. "1 iitch to think that my thare in it n all emle<l. I muil be in England by the end of Juue " "Make the mot of the time left," laid my lady ; "there 1 * another week, at leaU Let us go everywhere and eee everything In all probability we ihallnot meefal Nioe tended ; a great number of French people and Knglith were there. The earl had declined. Moonlit garden! and illuminated grounds had not much attraction for him. Lord Chandoi aat for come little time by tin mother's tide ; he wai enjoying an ice, an I ai he watched her he fell a Mutation of priiie in her beauty a keen sense of re- gret that they ihould ever be parted. An involuntary cry of admiration cair.e from the counteu, and Lord Chandoi looking in the direction where her eye* were fixed, saw Lady Krtkine. Never had the great queen of blonde* looked to lovely; the tine, fairy-like web of cotliy lace foil in graceful foldi around a figure that itood alone for grace and symmetry. She wore nothing but green leave* in her golden hair ; her armi, bare to the shoulders, were white, firm, and statuesque. Over her faoe, when *he aaw Lord Chandos, came a beautiful, brilliant fluih. The oounteat and her eon were sittinq in one of the pretty laloni, where tome of the must famoue work* of art were, collected Fheie wa* an exquiiiM buitof Clytie whioli attracted much attention ; they had been again. He had expected contradiction, he had expected his mother to oppose hi* desire of returning home, and he wa* lightly piqued l> find that so far from opposing him, she seemed to fall into the idea as though it was the most natural one. "I think," he purtued "that if I leave here on the twenty-seventh that will be toon enough." *Yee," said the countess, quietly. "It I* not such a long journey after all." So she would not oppose him. she would not argue with him, but. left him to take his own way. The handsome face grew (hadowed, the frank eye* troubled. It is very hard when a man cannot force any one to contradict him. He roae from hi* chsir., he walked uneasily up and down the room ; he apoke almost usrvously on on* or two point* and then h aid ; "Mother, I suppose you know what I intend doing.' ."he looked up at him with Ihe blandest mile and tweeted air. "Uoiiig, Lance about the boat to-nlght | do you mean ?" She purposely s fleeted to misunderstand him. "The bot?" he repeated. "No, I mean about my my future my marriage. 1 ' " I cannot aay that I know what you intend doing, Lance, but I am quite sure you will never again have th bad last* lo offend your father and me. I can trust you so far.' He looked more uncomfortable; he could always manage the oounteas belter when ho was angry then when she wa* amiable. He itopped abruptly before her and looking at her aaid: " I innii marry Leone, mo, her, 1 mutt." " Very well. Lance. When you are twenty-one, you can do as you like." " On, mother," cried the young lord, " be more humane, do not be so frigid and cold; speak tome about it. 1 am your only son, surely my marriage is a matter ol some importance to you." There wa* a passion of entreaty in hi* voice, and Lady Lanswell looked kindly it him. " Certainly your marriage is of more, importance lhan anything etas on earth; but you cannot sipect me to Took with favor on that tempestuous young person who ranted at me like a third-rate aatre** ffom a trav- elling thealre : you must excuse me Lance, but there are limit* to human endurance, and *h i* beyond mine." "Mother, Isl ms be happy, let me go and marry her, let me bring her back here, and we shall all be happy tog*th*r." "My dear Lance, 1 should not consider a person of hsr position a fit companion for commenting on it, and I*ily Lantwell wa* aying how much sli* would like a copy of It, Here come* something more beautiful than Clytie, she aid, a* Lady Marion ad- vanced to meet them. She made room for the young heiress by her lide. Lady Marion had schooled her- elf well, but hur talk was no easy one he wa* *o candid, so loyal, so true in all her dealings, that the least attempt at any- thing savoring of decent ion was unpleasant to her; mil ihe would, of uonrse, do any- thing to help Lady Laniwell. So ihe sat down by her *ide and talked with her usual gentle grace. She aaid, after a time: "Lady Laniwell, 1 have a great favor to aak of you. If you do not wiih to go back to Kngl&nd juil yet, will you join me? I am trying to persuade Lady 'Jambrey to make a lour through Sp*m". She drew a long breath of relief when the word* weie spoken, shewas sothankful to have them said and done with. She mentally resolved that never would he promise to do anything of this kind again. Lady Ltnswell's calm restored hers. "To Spain?" repeated the counteu. "What a traveler you are, Lady Marion. What ha* put Spain into your mind?" "I have alway* longed to are the Alham bra," aaid Lady Marion, wilhperfect tiutli. "A* we are o near, it would be a pity to go back without seeing it." "I quite agree with you. It may be some yean before you come on the Contin ent again you are quite right to go to Spam. And you really wish u* to join your party' "Certainly, I *hould lie delighlod ; it would increase my pleasure a hundred- fold, "replied the young hmress, promptly. "You are very kind to aay so. I will go if you can penuade Lord Chandoe to go with 11*." "How ran I do that ?" *h asked, with a amile. "Teach me how to 'perauade' l*'ly Laniwell. I have never been able to penuade,' any one." The Countess ro*e from her seat with a light laugh. "I am afraid that in thisc*je, pereuaiion, argument, and reason would be in vain. Lanor, tak* I. ly Marion to *ee the Umps in the almond trees they are really very fine." He took the toft, silken wrapper from her ami wrapped it round her shoulder*. "Let us go ard *ee the lam pi, " he laid, and they went, Ah, well. The iky above wa* filled with pale pure atari ; the almond-tree* filled the air with delioate perfume . the nightingale* were ringing in the distant tree* ; great Hood* of lilvor moonlight fell over the ground*, in which the lilie* gleamed palely white, and the roeee hung their heavy head*. They went together tn the grove where the lamp* shone bright as huge pearls. The path was a narrow one and he drew the white hand through his arm. How did it come about? Ah, who shall tell ? Per- could rule a kingdom, whoee power was un- limited. She had acquired more in these few months of study thau some people learn in yean. Hill I .. _____ . , my maid : (or myself, 1 quite declare 1 shall ' nal ,, l(lB wim | w h|spered it, perhaps the not oppoee your marriage with the girl it n jghtgale* lung about it, perh*p**omething i* quite usnless, since you are of age, to do a* you like ; hut I shall never see you or in the great white Illy leaves suggested it, perhaps the pal*, pure liar* looked disap She knew how great hi* delight be, and ihe smiled to think how entirely at her ea*e *be ihould be, even with hi* stately lady mother : she should feel no great awe of her in the future, for f Heaven had not given her the position of a lady bv birth, she had made herself one by at u<ly and refinement. So he wa* coming, ami their real married .if* wa* to begin. She thought with a shudder f the pain *ho had pasted through, .f the horror of that terrible dUoovery. t wa* all over now, thank Heaven. It >ad never been any brand or stigma to her; he had never fell any taUe sham* over it ; she had never lx wed her bright head a* hough a blight had paaaed over her. She aid to herself it wa* not her fault ihe not at least to bUme. She had believed herself in all honor lo be the wife if Lord Chandoi, and ihe could not feel lhat the least ihadow of blame rested on her. He wa* coming home. Through the long houri of the summer day, she thought oft nothing else. True, *iuce the month of June, hia letter* had be*n very few and mncn roolar. True, it has bean a severe shock to ter, to hear lhat he had gone to Nioe: but, as his letter said nothing of Lady Marion, and she knew nothing even of the existence of such a person, that did not matter. Why had he gone to N ion when June was o near? She wrote to him to a*k the |ueuon. but his answer wai: Because his parent* had gone there. Then she laid no more; that seemed quite natural. The only thing that occurred to her wai, he would have a longer journey in June; he would oome to her as he had promised, but he would take a longer time in '.raveling. Loae faith in him! She Bung back her head, with a bright, proud laugh. No, nothing could shake her faith in him; hi* proud lady mother had managed to get Aim under her influence what did that matter? He loved her and her alont She remembered the word* spoken on her wedding day; when ihe had asked him if lie wai quite sure their marriage wa* legal, hi* anawer wai, "and that nothing could part them except death." How well she rnnen bered those words, 'except death" I He had taken her in hi* arm* and ki**ed her, as though even death itself should not claim her. No shadow of fear enterad her mind. She knew that he would oome, as surely as she knew that the iun would rue and the day woold dawn. The thiriieilaof June. No gift of secont light came to her, to tell her that on thi tweuty-eeventhof June Lord Chandos hat sat down and wrote her a very long letter telling her it wa> impossible lor him to hi at home on the thirtieth of June, as he h< promised t? go with his parent* to Spam. A large party were going, and he mus join them ; but h,< heart would be with her on that day. Ue should think of her rom morning dawn until sunset, and he woul 1 be with her soon. H* wa* vexed that he had to take the journey ; it wa* quite against his will, yet he had been over-persuaded. He ihould tee her soon now ; and, whatever h* did, she nrist not feel in the least degree distressed, or put about. Their happinea* wa* only delayed for a abort time. A Icng letter. She had no gift of aeooud igbt ; she could not see that hi* faoe urned with a shameful flush a* he wiote that for himself he had no pity: that hn art went t to her with a warmer love ten ever, but that the fear of hi* mother'* taunt* and the pain on Lady Marion'* faoe ent him where he warn. Then, when the long letter wa* writ- ten, be directed it and *ent it by hi* alet lo post ; nor could sh* *ee how that ame valet intended going to post it at noe, but wa* prevented, and then laid aaide for an hour, a* h* thought, and forgot it for two whol* day*; then earing hi* master's anger, said nothing bout it, trusting lhat the delay might be ttributed lo something wrong in the post; nd ao, on the very day it should have Men given to her, it was put into the post- race, three dsys too lato Sha could not now all this, and she longed for the hirtieth of June as the dying long for cold water, as the thirsty hart for the clear pring. It came. She had longed for it, waited prayed fnr it, and now it was here. him at the window. She looked si though she had bathed in dew and warmed by the golden sun, so bright, so sparkling, so freeh and brilliant, her eyes radiant with hope m I love, the long silken lashes like fringe, me winle lids hall drooping, her face, with it* passionate beauty heightened by the love that filled her heart and sou 1 . She wore a dress of amber muslin with white lace, and in the rich mattes of her dark tiair lay a creamy rose. Fair and bright as the morning iteell she took her place at he window to watch ihe coming of him who wa* *o many miles away. It is thus that women believe meii.it is thui thai men t*ept the most solemn vow* that they can make. The maid who brought her tea wondered why her young mislress choee to sit at the window to drink il; indeed, she started with wonder at ths brilliant beauty of the face turned to her. It struck her now that she might in very truth begin to expect him; the sun was growing warmsr, the flowers were wide awake, the brown bees were busy among the carnations, ths birds had done half iheir day'( work; some of the talk-pinned I lay around, be would oome. lilacs were beginning to droop, and the white acacia blossom* had fallen on Ihe 'ong gran. Her whole soul in her eyes. and th one eyes fixed longingly on the white gate she tat there until noon. Greet city bells rang out the hour; in the village* it wa* told by tweet old chimes. The hay-makers sat down to rest.tbe butterflies rested in th* great hearts of the red roses, the bees settled in the carnations, the languid odorous wind was still while the slroket rang oni one after another frag- rant, sunny, golden noon. Hs had not corns ; but every moment was ( bringing him nearer. Some one brought her a glass of wine, some fruit and hitcuit . She would nol touch them because shs would not take hsr eyes from ths white gate through which he had to pass. CHAPTER XXX. riir. TiiiKTixTii or i-. i "Hu(h, do not speak ; I am listening!" It had grown too late to see ; thers wa* no % mnon, i>nd the pale light of the stars revealed nothing ; u had grown colder, toe. There was a faint sound in the wind that told of coming rain. Her own mam more at liberty to speak than the other*- -prayed her to come in; but all advice, reason, remonstrance received the same answer: "I muss not leave thi* spot until ths twenty-four hours ar* endeit." She would not have (uttered half the torture had the letter arrived; she would have known then at once that she wa* not to expect him : and the ordeal of waiting would have been over at once; but she clung to the hope be would come, he must come. She recalled hi* promises given solemnly she said to herself with a little shudder. "If he does not come to-day he will never oome." And then thi hated herself for th* halt- implied doubt of him. No mailer if the inn had fallen and the nightingale was singing; no matter if ths solemn hush of nigtit had fallen, and soft, deep shadewt The sighs of the wind grew deeper; the roses drooped. She leaned forward, for it seemed to her there wa* a stir among the trees; it wa* only soms night bird in quest cf its prey. Again she bent her head; surely, at Lasi. there wa* the click of ihe gate. But no; it was only th* swaying of the branches in the wind. Then clear and full and dislinct, cleaving ihe air, rang outj hehourof twelve ;it was mid- night, and he had nol come. The thirtieth of June waa over, and he had failed. One by one the counted those stroke* as they fell, in the vain hope that she mutt be mistaken, that it wa* only eleven. When he realized it ihe roe* from her solitary watch with a long low sigh. He had failed; be bad not come. She would not judge him; but h* had not kept lhat premise which was more ol*mr lo her than any oath. There were many perils, boih by sea and land; the steamer might nave run ashore, the irain ms y have been de speak lo you again ; when you leave me BTOVIL\I bul il happened lhat the while me here for that purpose our good-bye will lasl beyond deal h. Still you understand 1 do not seek to win you from your pin pore you sre free to d<> a* you will." The misery on hi* handsome young faoe touched h*r a little, and she had to remind herself that she wa* doing all she did for his own good. We will not talk any more about it, Lance," ihe said, kindly ; "words will not alter tact*. Did your fattier tell you what we proposed about th* lioat to-night ?" Mis lips Iremhled as he tried to answer her "I cannot throw off sorrow a* you can, mother ; I am talking to you about that which will make ihe misery or tne happi- ness of my life, snd you think of nothing but a boat/' " Word* ar* so useless, Ltnoe," re- peated my lady ; " they are bul empty sound*. I am going out to look (or *om* cameos; I think I should like a ssl, they are very elegant and recheroh*. " Mo laying, m) lady led the n.nm a* though no ssrious ihought occupied her mind. Then, for ths first time, something like mi|>atlenoe with hi* (ale cam* over the young lord, something like impatience with l.eoiii', for whoee love h* had so mu ih to suffer Heloveit hi* proud, lieautiful mother who had, unknown to him, *uoh gr*al in- Buena* ov*r him. He could not *iidur* the thought of life-long separation from her. The glamour of a boy t first mad love had fallen trnm him, and he taw things at they were: he could ultimate better than he bad done before, what It mean t to givo up father mother and friend* all for one love. He did not recover hi* ipirit* all day, km ihe temptation nev*r ono* cam* near him lo break hi* word or forgnt Leon*. Thai night, nne of Ih* lovelleit that ever lawned onetrth, they wsre all going to a fete glv*n by the Countess Spixls, and as part of the entertainment wa* that th* be*>nlilul ground* were to be illuminated. I xml Chtndos had never seen his mother took so proud, so brilliant or so handtome as on that night. Shs wars a superb dree* el green velvet, will, a suit of diamond* worth a king'* ran*om. Lady Marion wor* a lire** of rich lace, with cream-color rose* and green leaves. Ths fete was well at- fiand felt ths arm, and wa* clasped in a warm, strong hand a olasp such as only love gives. Who shall say how il happened ? She raised her fair face to hi* in the *oft, pure iiuionlighi, ami said lo hi*> . Mail you really go back to Kngland, Lord Chandos ' ' Th* voice wa* iweet as muslo ths lace, si. fair, so pure, su proud. "Must you," she added, "really go?" "Yes, I am compelled to return, he answered slowly. Need libs yet? she said. "I know you must go, but ths journsy through Spain will be an pleasant, and we might make a compromise. I will ihorten the journey if you will delay yonr return. And before he left the almond grove Lord ( 'haml oe had promised to do so, and as hs mad* th* promise h* bent down and kissed ths whits hand lying In hi*. CHAPTKR XXIX. \\AITIN,. tilR HIM. Never had June **en *uoh roses, never had lilies opened tuch white chalices, never had the trees looked so green, or the grass o long and thick, never had the bird* sung a* they sung this June, never had ihe light of the sun been *o gulden bright. Th* smile ot th* beautiful summer lay over the land, but in no place was U so fair a* iu River View. It was a scene Ilk* fairy lan.l. So Leone thought It as she watched da} by day the bsauly of blossom and leaf. I wa* In the month of May (he first began to watch ths sign* of ooming summer with the first bmalh of ihe hawthorn, h*r heart gi*w light and a new beauty hope cam* in h*r faoe. It was My and he wa* ooming In June. She worked hsrder lhan svsr. She rose early soil retired late the** month* of hard itudy and hard read ing had changed her more thau (he knew herself. On* ysar ago sh* had risen beautiful, strong, healthy girl, full ol Hie and life, and power. Now ihe wae a refin ed, intellectual woman, full of genius n talent, full of poetry and eloquence, full o originality and wit ; ihen she was a girl t. be adnnre.1. BOW she was a womaii wh >F I', |fmwvuii*B it, HW w *w ..-.. . he awoke early in the morning; it wa* to ' tix ; *he had lost ons hole hour, yet er as though a bridegroom were ooming; j Heaven had sent that sleep in mercy he song of the bird* wok* her, and they eemed to know that h* was coming they were up and awake In the earlieet dawn, 'hen a great Hood of golden sunlight came o welcome her; she hastened to the win- low to *ee what the day was like, and She did nol grow impatient; the love Isyed; but if the appoiutiuent had been for which uslained her, ihe hope that inspired I her to keep she would have kept It in spite her was too weet ; her soul teemed to be obstacle* and all cost, in a blissful, happy trance ; no doubt, no Shs roes from her long dull watch: shs fear, no presentiment of coming dis- *rid to cross the room and ring the bell, appointment dimmed the radiance of , but the strength of her limbs tailed her. those sunny brows. Hs was ooming fast She did not fall, shs rank into a sensslesm, as *te*m could bring him; it did not almott helpleet heap on the floor: and there matter if he would not come yet, if more ! long after midnight, her servants found of the tunny hours passed even if j her, and for some lime believed her dead. he delayed until even-tide, he would come That was the Ihirtieth of June for which so iur* as the sun shone in th* blu*-*ky. | ne had hoped, worked, and prayed a* Noon ps*rl . One iwo three still , wooian nv*r did before. she had never moved or .lirred. Four and \ They raised her from Oie ground and rive struck, still ihs light had not died took her to her room. One kinder lhan from h*r eyee nor the *mile from her face; ! tte others sat by her until the dawn, when he would come; the star* might fall from the dark *y*s opened with a look in them heaven the great earth upheave, the rivers , which wai never to die away again, rise, the bills fall, night become day, dark- "This is ths first of July," sh* ssJd. nee* light, but he would come. Who so [ fsJntly. faithful, so fond, so true ? And at five And the maid, seeing that ths morning hsr maid came again; thi* time sh* had a had dawned, aaid :_ cup ot strong, fragrant coffee, and Leone | "Yes, it i* July." drank it eagerly. Sh would wait for din- I Sh* sever attempted to rise thai day, but ner: *he expected someone, and she would I lay with her face turned to ths wall.tursjed wait Quickly enough sh* repleoed th* from tne sunlight and the birds' song, the cup and returned to watch: he might have ! bloom of flowers, the ripple of leave*. coi'.ie while shs but, ah, co, no had the one had cup to her lips; tiodden on the white acacia blossoms they were nnorush- rmth and light o* th* summer, thinking only of the mill-stream and the words thai for her had so terrible a prophecy : "A ring in pledge I gave her. And vow* of love we spoke Those vows are all forgot ten. Tne ring it<smler Drake." Over and over again they rang through her brain and her heart, while she fought againal them, while ihe lay trying to deaden Perhaps the long watching had wearied lier, or the warm glow of June afternoon fatigued her, or the strung odor of th* Mowers reached her brain. She looked at her watch; il wa* after five. He would _ cjme, mn*t certainly: she knew that; but j her senies, to tifl* her reason, doing dead- she wa* tired, and a great tearless sob ruee ' ly battle with Ihe fear* that assailed her. to her lips. Th* heal of the June sun was She would not give in; sh* would not doubt growing lee*; she leaned her head againat I him: there would come to her in time some th* casement of the window, and the white j knowledge; she would know why he had iver the dark, passionate, tender eyelids fell eyes. Shs was dreaming, then; she heard ihe ripple of running water lhat sung a* It ran, ana the word* were : "A ringln p ledge 1 gsv* her, Ami vows of love we spoke 1 he VOWK were all forgotten. The ring munder broke." Over and over again the sweet, sad words wsre repeated. She was standing on Ihe brink of the mill-stream again, her lover'* kisses warm on her lip*, her lover'* hand* clasping hers. Ah, Heaveo.lhat ihe dream could have lasted or she never woke 1 A bird woke her* by perching on her hand ; perhaps he thought it was a lily, and shs started in affright. The bell* wer* ringing helher th* sky was blu's. It seemed to wr that every little bird sung, "He is oming. " Here wer* the rose* laughing in at the window, nodding a* though they would ay, "Thi* is the thirtieth of June. " ['here Hashed the deep, clear river, hurry- ng on to ths great sea over which tie must nave oroesed; the wind whispered among he leaves, and svery leaf had a voice. He is ooming lo-day, " thsy all laid 1 ooming to-day There was a great stir evsn at thai early hour in the morning between the white and turple butterflies ; there was a swift, ssft ooing from the wood-pigeons : ths world eemed to laugh in the warm embrace of .h* riling inn. She laughed loo a sweet, happy laugh that st'rr j I the rose leaf and lasmine." "Oh. happy day !" shs cried "oh, ilndly sun and kindly time, that brings my ove back to m*." She looked at the gat* through which h* would past -U the roe* true from which h* one hour of forgelfulness hsr for what phe had to sutTer. failed. Failed, oh, liod! how hard the wonl was to lay failed. Why, if every star In the sky had fallen at her feet it would not have seemed to wonderful. Perhaps his mother that proud, haughty woman, who *eem*d lo trample ;he world under her feet perhaps she had prevented his ooming; but he would come, no matter what ihe mill-stream stid, no matter what hi* mother wished. The day passed and th* morrow oam* ths second of July She roes on that day and went down stair* th* shadow of her former self pale, cold, and silent She did not say to herself "H* will come to-day," hope waa dying within her. Then at noon came the letter her maid brought it in. She gave a low cry of when she saw the beioved hand- strengthened I wr itmg, that was followed by a cry of pain. She woke would gather tne rn* ; and she stretched iging quickly on, Kind Heaven! "J hav waited so long, mv out hefhands with a greet, longing cry I syes aohe to look at riim. I thirst tor hi* .Send him quickly oh, Kin she cried. have n presence as flower* thirst (or daw." She looked at her waloh, il wa* but just sit the laborers wsre going to the field, the maid* to the dairy, th* herdsmen to thsir floaks. Shs could see the hay makers in the ths meadow, and the Urges dropped la/.ily down the stream. Th* time would soon pais and he would be here before noon. Could it be possible that > he should see him so toon ? "In six hours," she repealed, "she should tee him in six hours." . Ah, well *h* had plenty to do. She went round the pretty villatosieiUverytrdngwa* as heliked best to see it, then she occupied herself in ordering for hi* enjoyment very dish that she knew hs liked; and then shs dressed herself to sit and wait for wit ha start ; for on* moment her brain wa* confused betw en the dream and the reality. Wat it '.he ripple of the mill- stream, or was it the mglung of the wind among Ih* roeee ? She had slept for an hoar. Had h* oome ? Had she slept while he entered the gsr.len ? Was h* hiding in jest? Sh* rang the bell quickly as ihs trembl ing hand* wouldaltowjand when the pretty, coquettish maid answered it she aiksd bad any on* come, had any ons called; and the answer waa, "No." Still she could not reet; sh* looked through the rooms, through ihs garden; ah, no, there were no trace* of any arrival none. Ones more to her wtch at th* window; but th* *cene began to change. There was no longr vhs golden glow over land and water, no longer the golden glare ol a sum msr's day, no longer the sweet summer's noise, and the loud, jubilant songti of th* birds. A gray tint wat stealing orer earth and sky; ths lilies were closing their white cup*; in* bird* singing thsir vesper hymn; longer shadows fsll on ths grass; cooler winds stirred th* rose*. He will come. Th* sky might pair. Ihe eailh darken, the sun set, the flowers sleep; but he would oome. Sh* would let no doubt of him enter her faithful heart. Let the night shadow fall, the sun of hsr love and her hope should till keep light. And then from iky and earth, from clear river and green wood the light of ihe day failed eight, nine, and ten struck the wot Id grew dark and dill ihe kept her watch unbroken. It might be night when he refirned; but (he would hear the click of the gate and be there to welcome. Ah, me, the sorrow that gatheted lik* a storm cloud ovsr ihe beautiful faoe the light, brightness and hope died from it as ihe light died from the heavens. Still she would not yield. Kven after the shadows of evening had fallen over the land she kept her plsce. He would com*. The ssrra,nts ol the household grsw alaiu.. .! t last; and one by one they ventured in to try > per- siiaiie their young mistress) to eat, to slsep, or to rest, 'lo on* and all sh* s ud ths same thing He would not have written if he bai been coming; that he had written proved that he had no intention of ooming. She took the letter, but she dared not trust herself to open u in the presence of hsr maid; but when the girl wat gone, ae there was no human eye tn reet on the tortured face she could not control, she opened it. Deadly cold eeemed to seixe her; a deadly shudder made ths Utter fall from her hands. No, hs was not coming. Hs must go to Spain to Spam, with hi* parent* and a party of tourist* but h* loved her just the same, and he ihould re- turn lo her. "He ii weak of purpose," *h* said to her sell when she had read the last word; "he loves ms still ; h* will com* back to me ; he will make me hit wile in the eyes of ths law a* h* ha* done in the sight of Heaven. Rut h* i* weak of purpose, Th* Countess of Lanswell has put difficult!** in his way : and h* ba* lei them conquer him." Then cameto her m'nd thoeestrong word*. 'UniUblo a< water, thau *hatl nit excel" r or ihe second tun* h*r servants found hsr cold and k*ns*l**s on th* ground ; but this tim* he had an open letter in her hand. The pity was lhat the whole world could not *ee how women trust the promise* ef men, and how men keep their*. (TO I' iNTIM KD.I THE QUEEN'S HEALTH. the l i ripplnl M krBBllssB- Walklsm as streesB* lnts>eslMlli)>. A despatch from London aayi : The fact i regretfully admitted by those close to the Queen lhat ner Majeaty must retrain al- mott a cripple ihe rest of her days. It was hoped for week* thai the wuld recover the us* of hsr limbs, after her sever* attack of rheumatism in August, but hsr disability became chronic, and it i* believed she never again will be abls to walk more than a few steps at a time. It is impossible fnr her lo step up or down, even in and out of her carriage, and an inclined gangway is now provided for th* latter purpose. A specially designed chair has bsen provided for carry- ing her Majesty up and down stairs. r t