October 5th. - My cup of sweets is not unmingled: it is dashedwith a bitterness that I cannot hide from myself, disguise it as Iwill. I may try to persuade myself that the sweetness overpowersit; I may call it a pleasant aromatic flavour; but say what I will,it is still there, and I cannot but taste it. I cannot shut myeyes to Arthur's faults; and the more I love him the more theytrouble me. His very heart, that I trusted so, is, I fear, lesswarm and generous than I thought it. At least, he gave me aspecimen of his character to-day that seemed to merit a harder namethan thoughtlessness. He and Lord Lowborough were accompanyingAnnabella and me in a long, delightful ride; he was riding by myside, as usual, and Annabella and Lord Lowborough were a littlebefore us, the latter bending towards his companion as if in tenderand confidential discourse.

'Those two will get the start of us, Helen, if we don't looksharp,' observed Huntingdon. 'They'll make a match of it, as sureas can be. That Lowborough's fairly besotted. But he'll findhimself in a fix when he's got her, I doubt.'

'And she'll find herself in a fix when she's got him,' said I, 'ifwhat I've heard of him is true.'

'Not a bit of it. She knows what she's about; but he, poor fool,deludes himself with the notion that she'll make him a good wife,and because she has amused him with some rodomontade aboutdespising rank and wealth in matters of love and marriage, heflatters himself that she's devotedly attached to him; that shewill not refuse him for his poverty, and does not court him for hisrank, but loves him for himself alone.'

'But is not he courting her for her fortune?'

'No, not he. That was the first attraction, certainly; but now hehas quite lost sight of it: it never enters his calculations,except merely as an essential without which, for the lady's ownsake, he could not think of marrying her. No; he's fairly in love.He thought he never could be again, but he's in for it once more.He was to have been married before, some two or three years ago;but he lost his bride by losing his fortune. He got into a bad wayamong us in London: he had an unfortunate taste for gambling; andsurely the fellow was born under an unlucky star, for he alwayslost thrice where he gained once. That's a mode of self-torment Inever was much addicted to. When I spend my money I like to enjoythe full value of it: I see no fun in wasting it on thieves andblacklegs; and as for gaining money, hitherto I have always hadsufficient; it's time enough to be clutching for more, I think,when you begin to see the end of what you have. But I havesometimes frequented the gaming-houses just to watch the on-goingsof those mad votaries of chance - a very interesting study, Iassure you, Helen, and sometimes very diverting: I've had many alaugh at the boobies and bedlamites. Lowborough was quiteinfatuated - not willingly, but of necessity, - he was alwaysresolving to give it up, and always breaking his resolutions.Every venture was the 'just once more:' if he gained a little, hehoped to gain a little more next time, and if he lost, it would notdo to leave off at that juncture; he must go on till he hadretrieved that last misfortune, at least: bad luck could not lastfor ever; and every lucky hit was looked upon as the dawn of bettertimes, till experience proved the contrary. At length he grewdesperate, and we were daily on the look-out for a case of FELO-DE-SE - no great matter, some of us whispered, as his existence hadceased to be an acquisition to our club. At last, however, he cameto a check. He made a large stake, which he determined should bethe last, whether he lost or won. He had often so determinedbefore, to be sure, and as often broken his determination; and soit was this time. He lost; and while his antagonist smilinglyswept away the stakes, he turned chalky white, drew back insilence, and wiped his forehead. I was present at the time; andwhile he stood with folded arms and eyes fixed on the ground, Iknew well enough what was passing in his mind.

'"Is it to be the last, Lowborough?" said I, stepping up to him.

'"The last but one," he answered, with a grim smile; and then,rushing back to the table, he struck his hand upon it, and, raisinghis voice high above all the confusion of jingling coins andmuttered oaths and curses in the room, he swore a deep and solemnoath that, come what would, this trial should be the last, andimprecated unspeakable curses on his head if ever he should shufflea card or rattle a dice-box again. He then doubled his formerstake, and challenged any one present to play against him. Grimsbyinstantly presented himself. Lowborough glared fiercely at him,for Grimsby was almost as celebrated for his luck as he was for hisill-fortune. However, they fell to work. But Grimsby had muchskill and little scruple, and whether he took advantage of theother's trembling, blinded eagerness to deal unfairly by him, Icannot undertake to say; but Lowborough lost again, and fell deadsick.

'"You'd better try once more," said Grimsby, leaning across thetable. And then he winked at me.

'"I've nothing to try with," said the poor devil, with a ghastlysmile.

'"Oh, Huntingdon will lend you what you want," said the other.

'"No; you heard my oath," answered Lowborough, turning away inquiet despair. And I took him by the arm and led him out.

'"Is it to be the last, Lowborough?" I asked, when I got him intothe street.

'"The last," he answered, somewhat against my expectation. And Itook him home - that is, to our club - for he was as submissive asa child - and plied him with brandy-and-water till he began to lookrather brighter - rather more alive, at least.

'"Huntingdon, I'm ruined!" said he, taking the third glass from myhand - he had drunk the others in dead silence.

'"Not you," said I. "You'll find a man can live without his moneyas merrily as a tortoise without its head, or a wasp without itsbody.

'"But I'm in debt," said he - "deep in debt. And I can never,never get out of it."

'"Well, what of that? Many a better man than you has lived anddied in debt; and they can't put you in prison, you know, becauseyou're a peer." And I handed him his fourth tumbler.

'"But I hate to be in debt!" he shouted. "I wasn't born for it,and I cannot bear it."

'"What can't be cured must be endured," said I, beginning to mixthe fifth.

'"And then, I've lost my Caroline." And he began to snivel then,for the brandy had softened his heart.

'"No matter," I answered, "there are more Carolines in the worldthan one."

'"There's only one for me," he replied, with a dolorous sigh. "Andif there were fifty more, who's to get them, I wonder, withoutmoney?"

'"Oh, somebody will take you for your title; and then you've yourfamily estate yet; that's entailed, you know."

'"I wish to God I could sell it to pay my debts," he muttered.

'"And then," said Grimsby, who had just come in, "you can tryagain, you know. I would have more than one chance, if I were you.I'd never stop here."

'"I won't, I tell you!" shouted he. And he started up, and leftthe room - walking rather unsteadily, for the liquor had got intohis head. He was not so much used to it then, but after that hetook to it kindly to solace his cares.

'He kept his oath about gambling (not a little to the surprise ofus all), though Grimsby did his utmost to tempt him to break it,but now he had got hold of another habit that bothered him nearlyas much, for he soon discovered that the demon of drink was asblack as the demon of play, and nearly as hard to get rid of -especially as his kind friends did all they could to second thepromptings of his own insatiable cravings.'

'Then, they were demons themselves,' cried I, unable to contain myindignation. 'And you, Mr. Huntingdon, it seems, were the first totempt him.'

'Well, what could we do?' replied he, deprecatingly. - 'We meant itin kindness - we couldn't bear to see the poor fellow somiserable:- and besides, he was such a damper upon us, sittingthere silent and glum, when he was under the threefold influence -of the loss of his sweetheart, the loss of his fortune, and thereaction of the lost night's debauch; whereas, when he hadsomething in him, if he was not merry himself, he was an unfailingsource of merriment to us. Even Grimsby could chuckle over his oddsayings: they delighted him far more than my merry jests, orHattersley's riotous mirth. But one evening, when we were sittingover our wine, after one of our club dinners, and all had beenhearty together, - Lowborough giving us mad toasts, and hearing ourwild songs, and bearing a hand in the applause, if he did not helpus to sing them himself, - he suddenly relapsed into silence,sinking his head on his hand, and never lifting his glass to hislips; - but this was nothing new; so we let him alone, and went onwith our jollification, till, suddenly raising his head, heinterrupted us in the middle of a roar of laughter by exclaiming, -'Gentlemen, where is all this to end? - Will you just tell me thatnow? - Where is it all to end?' He rose.

'"A speech, a speech!" shouted we. "Hear, hear! Lowborough'sgoing to give us a speech!"

'He waited calmly till the thunders of applause and jingling ofglasses had ceased, and then proceeded, - "It's only this,gentlemen, - that I think we'd better go no further. We'd betterstop while we can."

'"Just so!" cried Hattersley -

"Stop, poor sinner, stop and thinkBefore you further go,No longer sport upon the brinkOf everlasting woe."

'"Exactly!" replied his lordship, with the utmost gravity. "And ifyou choose to visit the bottomless pit, I won't go with you - wemust part company, for I swear I'll not move another step towardsit! - What's this?' he said, taking up his glass of wine.

'"Taste it," suggested I.

'"This is hell broth!" he exclaimed. "I renounce it for ever!"And he threw it out into the middle of the table.

'"Fill again!" said I, handing him the bottle - "and let us drinkto your renunciation."

'"It's rank poison," said he, grasping the bottle by the neck, "andI forswear it! I've given up gambling, and I'll give up this too."He was on the point of deliberately pouring the whole contents ofthe bottle on to the table, but Hargrave wrested it from him. "Onyou be the curse, then!" said he. And, backing from the room, heshouted, "Farewell, ye tempters!" and vanished amid shouts oflaughter and applause.

'We expected him back among us the next day; but, to our surprise,the place remained vacant: we saw nothing of him for a whole week;and we really began to think he was going to keep his word. Atlast, one evening, when we were most of us assembled togetheragain, he entered, silent and grim as a ghost, and would havequietly slipped into his usual seat at my elbow, but we all rose towelcome him, and several voices were raised to ask what he wouldhave, and several hands were busy with bottle and glass to servehim; but I knew a smoking tumbler of brandy-and-water would comforthim best, and had nearly prepared it, when he peevishly pushed itaway, saying, -

'"Do let me alone, Huntingdon! Do be quiet, all of you! I'm notcome to join you: I'm only come to be with you awhile, because Ican't bear my own thoughts." And he folded his arms, and leantback in his chair; so we let him be. But I left the glass by him;and, after awhile, Grimsby directed my attention towards it, by asignificant wink; and, on turning my head, I saw it was drained tothe bottom. He made me a sign to replenish, and quietly pushed upthe bottle. I willingly complied; but Lowborough detected thepantomime, and, nettled at the intelligent grins that were passingbetween us, snatched the glass from my hand, dashed the contents ofit in Grimsby's face, threw the empty tumbler at me, and thenbolted from the room.'

'I hope he broke your head,' said I.

'No, love,' replied he, laughing immoderately at the recollectionof the whole affair; 'he would have done so, - and perhaps, spoiltmy face, too, but, providentially, this forest of curls' (takingoff his hat, and showing his luxuriant chestnut locks) 'saved myskull, and prevented the glass from breaking, till it reached thetable.'

'After that,' he continued, 'Lowborough kept aloof from us a weekor two longer. I used to meet him occasionally in the town; andthen, as I was too good-natured to resent his unmannerly conduct,and he bore no malice against me, - he was never unwilling to talkto me; on the contrary, he would cling to me, and follow meanywhere but to the club, and the gaming-houses, and such-likedangerous places of resort - he was so weary of his own moping,melancholy mind. At last, I got him to come in with me to theclub, on condition that I would not tempt him to drink; and, forsome time, he continued to look in upon us pretty regularly of anevening, - still abstaining, with wonderful perseverance, from the"rank poison" he had so bravely forsworn. But some of our membersprotested against this conduct. They did not like to have himsitting there like a skeleton at a feast, instead of contributinghis quota to the general amusement, casting a cloud over all, andwatching, with greedy eyes, every drop they carried to their lips -they vowed it was not fair; and some of them maintained that heshould either be compelled to do as others did, or expelled fromthe society; and swore that, next time he showed himself, theywould tell him as much, and, if he did not take the warning,proceed to active measures. However, I befriended him on thisoccasion, and recommended them to let him be for a while,intimating that, with a little patience on our parts, he would sooncome round again. But, to be sure, it was rather provoking; for,though he refused to drink like an honest Christian, it was wellknown to me that he kept a private bottle of laudanum about him,which he was continually soaking at - or rather, holding off and onwith, abstaining one day and exceeding the next - just like thespirits.

'One night, however, during one of our orgies - one of our highfestivals, I mean - he glided in, like the ghost in "Macbeth," andseated himself, as usual, a little back from the table, in thechair we always placed for "the spectre," whether it chose to fillit or not. I saw by his face that he was suffering from theeffects of an overdose of his insidious comforter; but nobody spoketo him, and he spoke to nobody. A few sidelong glances, and awhispered observation, that "the ghost was come," was all thenotice he drew by his appearance, and we went on with our merrycarousals as before, till he startled us all by suddenly drawing inhis chair, and leaning forward with his elbows on the table, andexclaiming with portentous solemnity, - "Well! it puzzles me whatyou can find to be so merry about. What you see in life I don'tknow - I see only the blackness of darkness, and a fearful lookingfor of judgment and fiery indignation!"

'All the company simultaneously pushed up their glasses to him, andI set them before him in a semicircle, and, tenderly patting him onthe back, bid him drink, and he would soon see as bright a prospectas any of us; but he pushed them back, muttering, -

'"Take them away! I won't taste it, I tell you. I won't - Iwon't!" So I handed them down again to the owners; but I saw thathe followed them with a glare of hungry regret as they departed.Then he clasped his hands before his eyes to shut out the sight,and two minutes after lifted his head again, and said, in a hoarsebut vehement whisper, -

'"And yet I must! Huntingdon, get me a glass!"

'"Take the bottle, man!" said I, thrusting the brandy-bottle intohis hand - but stop, I'm telling too much,' muttered the narrator,startled at the look I turned upon him. 'But no matter,' herecklessly added, and thus continued his relation: 'In hisdesperate eagerness, he seized the bottle and sucked away, till hesuddenly dropped from his chair, disappearing under the table amida tempest of applause. The consequence of this imprudence wassomething like an apoplectic fit, followed by a rather severe brainfever - '

'And what did you think of yourself, sir?' said I, quickly.

'Of course, I was very penitent,' he replied. 'I went to see himonce or twice - nay, twice or thrice - or by'r lady, some fourtimes - and when he got better, I tenderly brought him back to thefold.'

'What do you mean?'

'I mean, I restored him to the bosom of the club, andcompassionating the feebleness of his health and extreme lowness ofhis spirits, I recommended him to "take a little wine for hisstomach's sake," and, when he was sufficiently re-established, toembrace the media-via, ni-jamais-ni-toujours plan - not to killhimself like a fool, and not to abstain like a ninny - in a word,to enjoy himself like a rational creature, and do as I did; for,don't think, Helen, that I'm a tippler; I'm nothing at all of thekind, and never was, and never shall be. I value my comfort fartoo much. I see that a man cannot give himself up to drinkingwithout being miserable one-half his days and mad the other;besides, I like to enjoy my life at all sides and ends, whichcannot be done by one that suffers himself to be the slave of asingle propensity - and, moreover, drinking spoils one's goodlooks,' he concluded, with a most conceited smile that ought tohave provoked me more than it did.

'And did Lord Lowborough profit by your advice?' I asked.

'Why, yes, in a manner. For a while he managed very well; indeed,he was a model of moderation and prudence - something too much sofor the tastes of our wild community; but, somehow, Lowborough hadnot the gift of moderation: if he stumbled a little to one side,he must go down before he could right himself: if he overshot themark one night, the effects of it rendered him so miserable thenext day that he must repeat the offence to mend it; and so on fromday to day, till his clamorous conscience brought him to a stand.And then, in his sober moments, he so bothered his friends with hisremorse, and his terrors and woes, that they were obliged, in self-defence, to get him to drown his sorrows in wine, or any morepotent beverage that came to hand; and when his first scruples ofconscience were overcome, he would need no more persuading, hewould often grow desperate, and be as great a blackguard as any ofthem could desire - but only to lament his own unutterablewickedness and degradation the more when the fit was over.

'At last, one day when he and I were alone together, afterpondering awhile in one of his gloomy, abstracted moods, with hisarms folded and his head sunk on his breast, he suddenly woke up,and vehemently grasping my arm, said, -

'"Huntingdon, this won't do! I'm resolved to have done with it."

'"What, are you going to shoot yourself?" said I.

'"No; I'm going to reform."

'"Oh, that's nothing new! You've been going to reform these twelvemonths and more."

'"Yes, but you wouldn't let me; and I was such a fool I couldn'tlive without you. But now I see what it is that keeps me back, andwhat's wanted to save me; and I'd compass sea and land to get it -only I'm afraid there's no chance." And he sighed as if his heartwould break.

'"What is it, Lowborough?" said I, thinking he was fairly crackedat last.

'"A wife," he answered; "for I can't live alone, because my ownmind distracts me, and I can't live with you, because you take thedevil's part against me."

'"Who - I?"

'"Yes - all of you do - and you more than any of them, you know.But if I could get a wife, with fortune enough to pay off my debtsand set me straight in the world - "

'"To be sure," said I.

'"And sweetness and goodness enough," he continued, "to make hometolerable, and to reconcile me to myself, I think I should do yet.I shall never be in love again, that's certain; but perhaps thatwould be no great matter, it would enable me to choose with my eyesopen - and I should make a good husband in spite of it; but couldany one be in love with me? - that's the question. With your goodlooks and powers of fascination" (he was pleased to say), "I mighthope; but as it is, Huntingdon, do you think anybody would take me- ruined and wretched as I am?"

'"Yes, certainly."

'"Who?"

'"Why, any neglected old maid, fast sinking in despair, would bedelighted to - "

'"No, no," said he - "it must be somebody that I can love."

'"Why, you just said you never could be in love again!'

'"Well, love is not the word - but somebody that I can like. I'llsearch all England through, at all events!" he cried, with a suddenburst of hope, or desperation. "Succeed or fail, it will be betterthan rushing headlong to destruction at that d-d club: so farewellto it and you. Whenever I meet you on honest ground or under aChristian roof, I shall be glad to see you; but never more shallyou entice me to that devil's den!"

'This was shameful language, but I shook hands with him, and weparted. He kept his word; and from that time forward he has been apattern of propriety, as far as I can tell; but till lately I havenot had very much to do with him. He occasionally sought mycompany, but as frequently shrunk from it, fearing lest I shouldwile him back to destruction, and I found his not veryentertaining, especially as he sometimes attempted to awaken myconscience and draw me from the perdition he considered himself tohave escaped; but when I did happen to meet him, I seldom failed toask after the progress of his matrimonial efforts and researches,and, in general, he could give me but a poor account. The motherswere repelled by his empty coffers and his reputation for gambling,and the daughters by his cloudy brow and melancholy temper -besides, he didn't understand them; he wanted the spirit andassurance to carry his point.

'I left him at it when I went to the continent; and on my return,at the year's end, I found him still a disconsolate bachelor -though, certainly, looking somewhat less like an unblest exile fromthe tomb than before. The young ladies had ceased to be afraid ofhim, and were beginning to think him quite interesting; but themammas were still unrelenting. It was about this time, Helen, thatmy good angel brought me into conjunction with you; and then I hadeyes and ears for nobody else. But, meantime, Lowborough becameacquainted with our charming friend, Miss Wilmot - through theintervention of his good angel, no doubt he would tell you, thoughhe did not dare to fix his hopes on one so courted and admired,till after they were brought into closer contact here atStaningley, and she, in the absence of her other admirers,indubitably courted his notice and held out every encouragement tohis timid advances. Then, indeed, he began to hope for a dawn ofbrighter days; and if, for a while, I darkened his prospects bystanding between him and his sun - and so nearly plunged him againinto the abyss of despair - it only intensified his ardour andstrengthened his hopes when I chose to abandon the field in thepursuit of a brighter treasure. In a word, as I told you, he isfairly besotted. At first, he could dimly perceive her faults, andthey gave him considerable uneasiness; but now his passion and herart together have blinded him to everything but her perfections andhis amazing good fortune. Last night he came to me brimful of hisnew-found felicity:

'"Huntingdon, I am not a castaway!" said he, seizing my hand andsqueezing it like a vice. "There is happiness in store for me yet- even in this life - she loves me!"

'"Indeed!" said I. "Has she told you so?"

'"No, but I can no longer doubt it. Do you not see how pointedlykind and affectionate she is? And she knows the utmost extent ofmy poverty, and cares nothing about it! She knows all the follyand all the wickedness of my former life, and is not afraid totrust me - and my rank and title are no allurements to her; forthem she utterly disregards. She is the most generous, high-mindedbeing that can be conceived of. She will save me, body and soul,from destruction. Already, she has ennobled me in my ownestimation, and made me three times better, wiser, greater than Iwas. Oh! if I had but known her before, how much degradation andmisery I should have been spared! But what have I done to deserveso magnificent a creature?"

'And the cream of the jest,' continued Mr. Huntingdon, laughing,'is, that the artful minx loves nothing about him but his title andpedigree, and "that delightful old family seat."'

'How do you know?' said I.

'She told me so herself; she said, "As for the man himself, Ithoroughly despise him; but then, I suppose, it is time to bemaking my choice, and if I waited for some one capable of elicitingmy esteem and affection, I should have to pass my life in singleblessedness, for I detest you all!" Ha, ha! I suspect she waswrong there; but, however, it is evident she has no love for him,poor fellow.'

'Then you ought to tell him so.'

'What! and spoil all her plans and prospects, poor girl? No, no:that would be a breach of confidence, wouldn't it, Helen? Ha, ha!Besides, it would break his heart.' And he laughed again.

'Well, Mr. Huntingdon, I don't know what you see so amazinglydiverting in the matter; I see nothing to laugh at.'

'I'm laughing at you, just now, love,' said he, redoubling hismachinations.

And leaving him to enjoy his merriment alone, I touched Ruby withthe whip, and cantered on to rejoin our companions; for we had beenwalking our horses all this time, and were consequently a long waybehind. Arthur was soon at my side again; but not disposed to talkto him, I broke into a gallop. He did the same; and we did notslacken our pace till we came up with Miss Wilmot and LordLowborough, which was within half a mile of the park-gates. Iavoided all further conversation with him till we came to the endof our ride, when I meant to jump off my horse and vanish into thehouse, before he could offer his assistance; but while I wasdisengaging my habit from the crutch, he lifted me off, and held meby both hands, asserting that he would not let me go till I hadforgiven him.

'I have nothing to forgive,' said I. 'You have not injured me.'

'No, darling - God forbid that I should! but you are angry becauseit was to me that Annabella confessed her lack of esteem for herlover.'

'No, Arthur, it is not that that displeases me: it is the wholesystem of your conduct towards your friend, and if you wish me toforget it, go now, and tell him what sort of a woman it is that headores so madly, and on whom he has hung his hopes of futurehappiness.'

'I tell you, Helen, it would break his heart - it would be thedeath of him - besides being a scandalous trick to poor Annabella.There is no help for him now; he is past praying for. Besides, shemay keep up the deception to the end of the chapter; and then hewill be just as happy in the illusion as if it were reality; orperhaps he will only discover his mistake when he has ceased tolove her; and if not, it is much better that the truth should dawngradually upon him. So now, my angel, I hope I have made out aclear case, and fully convinced you that I cannot make theatonement you require. What other requisition have you to make?Speak, and I will gladly obey.'

'I have none but this,' said I, as gravely as before: 'that, infuture, you will never make a jest of the sufferings of others, andalways use your influence with your friends for their own advantageagainst their evil propensities, instead of seconding their evilpropensities against themselves.'

'I will do my utmost,' said he, 'to remember and perform theinjunctions of my angel monitress;' and after kissing both mygloved hands, he let me go.

When I entered my room, I was surprised to see Annabella Wilmotstanding before my toilet-table, composedly surveying her featuresin the glass, with one hand flirting her gold-mounted whip, and theother holding up her long habit.

'She certainly is a magnificent creature!' thought I, as I beheldthat tall, finely developed figure, and the reflection of thehandsome face in the mirror before me, with the glossy dark hair,slightly and not ungracefully disordered by the breezy ride, therich brown complexion glowing with exercise, and the black eyessparkling with unwonted brilliance. On perceiving me, she turnedround, exclaiming, with a laugh that savoured more of malice thanof mirth, - 'Why, Helen! what have you been doing so long? I cameto tell you my good fortune,' she continued, regardless of Rachel'spresence. 'Lord Lowborough has proposed, and I have beengraciously pleased to accept him. Don't you envy me, dear?'

'No, love,' said I - 'or him either,' I mentally added. 'And doyou like him, Annabella?'

'Like him! yes, to be sure - over head and ears in love!'

'Well, I hope you'll make him a good wife.'

'Thank you, my dear! And what besides do you hope?'

'I hope you will both love each other, and both be happy.'

'Thanks; and I hope you will make a very good wife to Mr.Huntingdon!' said she, with a queenly bow, and retired.

'Oh, Miss! how could you say so to her!' cried Rachel.

'Say what?' replied I.

'Why, that you hoped she would make him a good wife. I never heardsuch a thing!'

'Because I do hope it, or rather, I wish it; she's almost pasthope.'

'Well,' said she, 'I'm sure I hope he'll make her a good husband.They tell queer things about him downstairs. They were saying - '

'I know, Rachel. I've heard all about him; but he's reformed now.And they have no business to tell tales about their masters.'

'No, mum - or else, they have said some things about Mr. Huntingdontoo.'

'I won't hear them, Rachel; they tell lies.'

'Yes, mum,' said she, quietly, as she went on arranging my hair.

'Do you believe them, Rachel?' I asked, after a short pause.

'No, Miss, not all. You know when a lot of servants gets togetherthey like to talk about their betters; and some, for a bit ofswagger, likes to make it appear as though they knew more than theydo, and to throw out hints and things just to astonish the others.But I think, if I was you, Miss Helen, I'd look very well before Ileaped. I do believe a young lady can't be too careful who shemarries.'

'Of course not,' said I; 'but be quick, will you, Rachel? I wantto be dressed.'

And, indeed, I was anxious to be rid of the good woman, for I wasin such a melancholy frame I could hardly keep the tears out of myeyes while she dressed me. It was not for Lord Lowborough - it wasnot for Annabella - it was not for myself - it was for ArthurHuntingdon that they rose.

* * * * *

13th. - They are gone, and he is gone. We are to be parted formore than two months, above ten weeks! a long, long time to liveand not to see him. But he has promised to write often, and mademe promise to write still oftener, because he will be busy settlinghis affairs, and I shall have nothing better to do. Well, I thinkI shall always have plenty to say. But oh! for the time when weshall be always together, and can exchange our thoughts without theintervention of these cold go-betweens, pen, ink, and paper!

22nd. - I have had several letters from Arthur already. They arenot long, but passing sweet, and just like himself, full of ardentaffection, and playful lively humour; but there is always a 'but'in this imperfect world, and I do wish he would sometimes beserious. I cannot get him to write or speak in real, solidearnest. I don't much mind it now, but if it be always so, whatshall I do with the serious part of myself?