of his presence. Therefore he answered with bitter politeness:

I am very sorry, but I had no idea of meeting you,' which his chilling tone interpreted into 'no wish to meet you.'

'But you were coming to us?' she asked falteringly.

'No; I came upon Land League business. I was commissioned to pay some money to clients of theirs in this neighbourhood.' He particularised his mission, to make her clearly understand that it was mere business brought him here.

'But you will come to us afterwards?'

'No, thank you; I haven't time.' His tone was so freezing that it was impossible for poor Norah to say one of the hundred speeches. she had revolved over and over in her mind in the last two days, to make to him upon their first meeting. She was beginning to doubt now if there was any misunderstanding to clear up, and to remember how prone Nancy was to

exaggerate and even to invent pleasant things. Therefore, there was an awkward silence of a few seconds, which each interpreted to mean that the other felt the meeting an embarrassThen Norah said timidly :

ment.

6

Have you quite recovered from your burns?'

'Oh, quite, thank you; they were nothing.'

I haven't thanked you yet for my life, Maurice,' she said, with a quaver in her low

6

sweet voice. I hadn't the time, or the chance, or-or the courage,' she faltered, meaning that his manner had become so forbidding. But he naturally imagined she meant that she was too much disconcerted on being discovered by him alone with Reid Summers at such a time.

'There was nothing to thank for. It wasn't much to do, and I should have done if for anyone.'

This was an ungracious speech, but was not meant so ungraciously as it sounded. Imagin

ing that she felt oppressed by her debt to him, he wished to make as light of it as possible. Norah's high hopes flickered lower and lower in the socket.

'You would have done it for anyone, I know; but anyone wouldn't have done it for me,' she answered, in the hope that he would understand her as contrasting him with Mr. Summers. But his only idea was that she was uncomfortable in owing her life to a man whom she could not repay with her love.

'Oh, anyone could have done it for anyWho could see

one,' he replied impatiently.

a dog burned alive if he could save it at the cost of a blister or two?'

'You cannot help my being grateful to

you, Maurice, if you will not let me

be any

thing more' she had nearly said, but checked

herself in time, and added after a slight pause,

express my gratitude.'

He had returned with her as they talked

towards Clonard, and they had now reached the gate-lodge.

'You will come in?' she asked entreatingly. He stood looking down into her upturned, appealing face with a conflict of expressions agitating his own-pain, perplexity, and yearning love. Suddenly he stooped, pressed his lips passionately to hers in a clinging kiss, and saying Good-bye,' in a voice that almost broke into a sob, he strode away into the gathering darkness before she had recovered from her confusion and-transport!

It was, no doubt, highly improper for a young lady to be transported at all by a kiss, much more by a kiss so informal and so unauthorised, unprepared even by a proposal, not to say an acceptance. Nevertheless, Norah was absolutely transported by this passionate expression of despairing love. There was now not the least doubt in her mind either of his love or of his despair. Both were expressed in his eyes and in the broken voice of his

good-bye, no less than in that close and clinging kiss. But her rapture was not unalloyed. 'Inter delicias semper aliquid sævi nos strangulat.' For this jealousy of his, which burned as fiercely as his love, was a cruel reflection. upon her mind, her heart, her mere maiden modesty. What! that he should take for granted, without hesitation or inquiry, her love for a man she had known about as many hours as she had known Maurice years, and to whom Maurice was as Hyperion to a satyr! It was not possible he could have supposed her in love with anything but his money—a supposition as unworthy of him as degrading to her. This thought, following close as its shadow her triumph, marred it, and would probably have prevented her recalling Maurice, even if he had not been beyond the reach of recall before she had recovered herself. It was well, she thought, that he should suffer a little for so dishonouring a conception of her. She was unjust to Maurice, for the