her eye, and leaving two funny little footprints in the dark mould to show who had been the trespasser; going down on her hands and knees to smell some low-growing piece of painted sweetness; standing on tiptoe to pull down a creeper with the crook of her parasol; and taking tolls here and there, as flowers caught her fancy, to make up a tasteful little nosegay, flattering herself that Josiah would not miss them, though that avaricious horticulturist could have next day named every one that had disappeared from his shining hoards. A mother's delight in her children is uncertain and full of alloy, compared with that of Josiah in his flowers. They never screamed when he wished them to be quiet-never required to be bribed to take physic-never tore their clothes, played truant, got bitten by mad dogs, nor gored by mad bulls -never, when they grew up, formed indiscreet attachments, or, at least, none such as a little patience would not remedy (as, for instance, when his stately convolvulus_twined over a young piece of London - pride)— in fact, he enjoyed all the pleasures of parenthood without any of its anxieties. By and by Josiah stood up and straightened his back, placing his hand in the hollow thereof to assist the operation. Hearing Rosa chirping in a distant corner of his domain, he made off in that direction to join her. "Don't scold, Josiah," said Rosa, holding up her spoils to his nose"don't scold, and I'll stick one in your button-hole. There!" "I never could," quoth Josiah, gazing regretfully down on the bud that now lent splendour to his coat"I never could see any possible affinity between flowers and broadcloth; and why people should pluck blossoms from the stems and leaves that harmonise so well with them, to stick them into a dingy produce of the loom, is one of the puzzles of humanity." "Why, it looks beautiful there," said Rosa, drawing him round, fullfront, by the lapel of his coat. "You shall have just such another to go into the pulpit with next Sunday, and your text shall be, Man is cut down like a flower of the field,' or the verse about Solomon and the lilies." "Puss!" said Josiah, pinching her small ear. "You resemble the lilies yourself in one point of view, inasmuch as you toil not, neither do you spin. Do you think human beings ought to be content with merely blooming, you idle child?" "But I couldn't be useful if I tried," said Rosa. "And, do you know, that, although it's my duty, of course, to improve my mind, yet it makes my head ache sadly. But I'm almost forgetting what it was brought me down here, and now it's nearly time to go back. So sit down on this bench, Josiah, and I'll tell you all about it, though I know you'll say I'm a little gossip for my pains. Something so interesting, too!-oh, so interesting!" Josiah sat down on a garden-seat, and Rosa placed herself by his side. "What is this great piece of news, child?" asked the Curate. "Have you got any new article of dress? or have you heard from home? or what is it?" "Something much more important," said Rosa, laying her flowers in a loose heap in her lap; "and something much more interesting to you. What would you say, now, if I told you that a certain friend of yours and mine, whom we are both very partial to, was plainly and undeniably attached to a certain gentleman that you take particular interest in?" The Curate had taken off his hat for coolness, and at this piece of intelligence, delivered in a meaning tone, the blush which spread over his face might be seen reappearing, from under his hair, on the bald part of his head, making it look so red that one might have fancied an Indian had scalped him. For who could this friend of Rosa's and his be except Lady Lee? and who could the gentleman, so oracularly alluded to, be, except-himself? Such was his first thought; but then came another, that set his heart beating violently; and the blood rushing down from his face, to see what all the knocking was about, left him very white. What if she alluded to some other than himself! a thought which he had never yet looked at face to face, but which was now, perhaps, about to reveal itself to his shrinking soul. He said nothing, because he knew his voice would fail him; and Rosa, not noticing his disorder, because she was busy arranging her nosegay, taking loose flowers from her lap, and placing them where she thought they would appear to best advantage, went on : "Orelia and I have often wished that such a thing would come to pass, but we never expected it would for all that. For you know, Josiah, that Lady Lee "-(Ah, 'twas she, thenand he had, in one instance, guessed rightly)—" that Lady Lee has cared so little about the society of any other gentleman-except you"-(Rosa's words here were almost drowned in the loud beating of the Curate's expectant heart, and the rush of his thoughts-it was like hearing a person talk as you stood by a cataract); -" and, besides, we had so little hope of ever seeing anybody at all worthy of her, that it seemed altogether too good to be true. But I really think nothing could have turned out better; and you," added Rosa, looking meaningly up at him, "you, I'm sure, will think so too." Would any one suppose, now (so ran the Curate's thought)-would any one suppose, now, that this little girl, his sister, seated so quietly and so innocently beside him, was inflicting on him terrible torture?-stretching him on the rack? What evil spirit possessed her, that she could not speak out? He knew a word from him would cause her to do so; yet, for all the world, he could not speak that word. However, the discovery came soon enough. "You see, to be worthy of her, Josiah, a lover must be clever-handsome"-(nodding affirmatively at each word)" well-bred-agreeable-and one she could look up to. All these perfections, and one more, without which I should never have thought him complete, and that is, that he is a friend of yours, are met together in Captain Fane." For a short space after these words were spoken, the Curate's heart went on beating rapidly, because, at the pace it was going, nothing short of absolute overthrow and breakdown could abruptly check it. But it so bered down at every pulsation-the intervals grew longer-longer-the swarm of thoughts which had rushed to their common centre, thus suddenly dismissed, flew hither and thither, with loud buzzing and confusion; and, then, as they folded their wings, there ensued in his heart a dead silence. Rosa went on talking, but what meaning her words had, or whether any, he did not know. Presently his ideas, one by one, began to return. Not for him, then (this was the first), not for him was to be the peaceful happy future he had promised himself-not for him was to be prolonged the delightful present. The idea of Lady Lee had so entwined itself with all his hopes, prospects, and pursuits, that to attempt to disentangle it would be destruction to the pattern. He looked up at his parsonage, a few yards in front of him, where he had led such a quiet, sheltered life, with scarcely a care to disturb him; and shuddered to mark how dreary and deserted it looked, as if the Lares had forsaken it. He looked round at his flowers; their beauty was gone; that particular one whose blowing he had watched caught his eye: what a fool he had been! while he was intent only on that miserable, worthless flower, his happiness, his very life, were slipping from beneath him. "Don't you think so, Josiah ? " asked Rosa, petulantly; for she had put the same question three times without an answer. "Think what?" inquired the rapt Curate. "Why, that it is a great pity any misunderstanding should exist between them. For I've noticed that Hester's coldness to him, these last two or three days, is painful to both of them; and I'm certain it is nothing but what could be set right in a moment. And you, Josiah, are the very person to set it right. You must speak to Hester-you must, indeed-and give her good advice. You might say to both of them what they wouldn't, perhaps, say to each other. So, Josiah, if you'll step up this evening, and I'm sure you've nothing better to do, I'll take care you shall talk to her alone. There" (kissing him), "goodby for the present. I see I've set you thinking, and I know you'll think to good purpose." Set him thinking!-yes; but far different thoughts from those she supposed. Was it not enough that his happiness had been trodden down, scattered to the winds, without a thought for him; but he must now be called to the assistance of the spoiler? It was like asking the shepherd to give to the robber his pet lamb. No; if there was misunderstanding between those two, it was none of his making; he even felt a secret pleasure in it. Let them set it right themselves! He had been admitted to no share in their counsels-he would take no part in their reconciliation! Thoughts such as these were too new to the gentle mind of the Curate to present themselves without causing great perturbation. The sun, that shone at first on his back, moved to his left shoulder, yet still he sat there -a passing shower drenched him, yet still he sat there-till the long shadows swept over him, and the sun went down upon his anger. CHAPTER XXXI. grounds than that they might, as brothers, be faithful to one another. The Curate had at length, at the summons of Jennifer, withdrawn into his sitting-room. There he sat in the dusk, in his accustomed chair-not lounging supinely, as usual, but leaning forward, supporting his elbows on his knees, his face on his closed hands Of late this has, I regret to find, spite of all my efforts to the contrary, begun to assume somewhat the appearance of a love-story. And even a love-story might bear a novel, unhackneyed aspect, if a man might write it truly, without fear of getting his eyes scratched out; showing Cupid, not in his accustomed genial, smiling phase, but as an infernal imp--and so busy with his thoughts, that deity, shooting other divinities with poisoned arrows. For, look at the Curate Josiah as we first saw him-simple, affectionate, true, self-denying-receiving, with open heart, the friend of his youth! That friend has done nothing to deserve loss of friendship; yet, at the explosion of the secret mine that this pleasant, comical, harmless, winged boy has laid in his heart, this ancient, firm-rooted friendship is scattered to the winds, and the seat of it becomes a blackened ruin. And, setting jealousy aside, friendship still suffers by love. None but a bachelor knows what it is to be a friend, or, perchance, to have one. For, though you shall have been intimate with a man from youth upwards though you shall have shared together pleasures and dangers-bandied thoughts to and fro, like shuttlecocks, by many a jovial, else solitary, fireside yet let the idol of a three days' fancy intervene, and the tried friend's image fades: let marriage ensue, and the memory of those ancient times goes for nothing, strangled by this new close tie. Doubtless the old Templars knew this, and took a vow of celibacy, less on monastic he did not notice the steps of a horse that came down the road, and paused at the parsonage; nor the footstep of the rider as he crossed the gravel path; nor the opening of the door. Only when a hand was laid on his shoulder he started, and looked up. There, in the gloom, stood the tall form of his late friend-of him whose image he had been, for the last few hours, chipping and defacing — the form of Fane. - "Josey, my boy," said Fane, "I come to you, not, as usual, because I want a little pleasant companionship, a little revival of old times, but because I want a friend's counsel, or, at any rate, his ear, and that on more points than one." Good heavens! (thought the Curate) did they take him for a stone, a log of wood? Was he then to preside at the partition of his own heart? Was he to throw feelings, affections, hopes, into the choked furnace, in order that the statue of Love, made by other hands, should run freely into the mould, and come to light in perfection? Too much! too much! I have told you about the disinherited cousin to whose place in my uncle's affections I have succeeded?" The Curate was relieved to find the subject on which his attention was required different from what he expected, and answered, at once, that he remembered all the particulars. "I believe I have succeeded in discovering my cousin," said Fane. "Indeed!" exclaimed the Curate, with interest somewhat awakened in spite of himself. "Yes," said Fane, “but I have detected him only at the very moment he has eluded my grasp. To-day I went to a silversmith's in Doddington to give directions about the inscription on a silver cup which we were about to present, in token of esteem, to the dragoon Onslow, who was hurt in the steeple-chase the other day, and who has since quitted the service -a token well-merited, both by his soldierly conduct and his skill in horsemanship, by which the regiment has been much benefited. On the counter was lying, when I entered, a ring of curious chasing and construction. I recognised it in a moment for the same I had lately observed on the finger of this very dragoon Onslow, when he was lying sick at the lodge. I took it up to look at the device on the stone. There I beheld the Levitts' family crest (my cousin is a Levitt, you know)—rather a peculiar crest-a hand grasping a thunderbolt, with the motto-Downright.' Where did you get this?' I asked the silversmith. It was sent him the day before,' he told me, 'to be sold for whatever he might choose to give for it, and with it came a gold watch.' This, too, he showed me: it had inside the case the initials L. L. Who brought these?' I asked the silversmith. The messenger,' he said, was the daughter of the landlord of the Grapes.' That, I knew, was the inn where Onslow had been billeted, and thither I repaired. There," continued Fane, "I found great tribulation in the household. The landlord's daughter, Susan, when she heard my errand, could hardly speak for crying, so piteous was the subject. Her mother, the landlady, told me the watch and ring had come from Onslow, with a request that they เ might be sold for what they would fetch, and that the amount of his bill at the Grapes might be deducted from the proceeds. But, Lord love him, Captain,' said the good landlady, the little he had here he was welcome to, and should have been if it had been twice as much; so I sent him the whole £12, 10s. that the watchmaker gave. But I'd better have kept my bill, as he told me, for he sent back two keepsakes for me and my daughter, that must have cost him near half his money.' Well, Josey, I had already bought the ring from the watchmaker-see, here it is-and I rode at once to the Heronry lodge, planning all the way how I should disclose myself-how I should surprise my cousin with my knowledge of his secret, and make him accept my services in his behalf. But, Josey, 'the best laid plans of mice and men aft gang agee.' The bird had flown. This very afternoon he had set out to catch the Doddington coach at a cross-road, having previously sent the solitary trunk that contained his effects thither to await him; and it had no direction on it. Nobody knows where he has gone." "And how do you propose to find him?" asked the Curate. "I should have followed in pursuit of him at once," replied Fane, "but for two considerations. One was, that I had not as yet got leave of absence-the other, that some other business, even yet nearer my heart, remained to be settled, before I could depart in peace. Ah, Josey! now I come to the great question; and now, indeed, I need your counsel!" The cloud that had for a moment been uplifted from the Curate's soul, again descended black and heavy. He made no response; but Fane was too much occupied with his own thoughts to heed that, and went on, after a pause "Josey," he said, "to you, who know me so well, I need not unfold my inner man. You know that it is my way to show only the surface of my nature. You know that, while fully sensible of the value of fine sentiment, enthusiasm, and deep feeling, I shrink from displaying them on ordinary occasions, as Queen Godiva shrunk from the gaze of Coventry. Well, Josey, though one may thus freeze over the surface of life, yet the current of emotion sweeps none the less powerfully underneath. I have long perceived that I was letting many of my best faculties run to waste, while I employed others comparatively valueless-and all the time life slipping on-on. Heavens, Josey! if I go on in this way, I may become petrified into one of those unhappy veterans who have but two sources of enjoyment-port wine and the newspaper-to set against their accumulating miseries. What, for instance, do I know of many of the feelings which sway civilised man? I've no more idea of home than a Bedouin Arab. And while treating lightly my uncle's advice to marry, I knew he was right." He paused, and presently resumed. "But then I am so fastidious, so hard to be moved to admire, that 'twas no wonder I set out on this matrimonial expedition with small hopes of success. Conceive, then, Josey, my discomfiture, when, as in the case of my cousin, which I have told you of, so also in this, I discover what I sought only at the moment it seems lost to me." Again he paused-the Curate did not speak, and Fane went on. "I need not speak to you, her friend, Josey, of the attractions of Lady Lee" (the Curate almost groaned) -"I need not say how all in her seems made for my admiration, while there is nothing to offend my unhappy fastidiousness. I will just say, Josey, that, though I do not deny to have felt passing fancies for other women, yet I never met one but her with whom I could be, not merely content, but eager to pass my life. And yet, as I tell you, the moment of my making this discovery is far from a moment of hope; for I make it just as Lady Lee begins to treat me with the most unaccountable reserve-reserve that would repel me, did I not see it relieved by sudden, short intervals of sympathy and relenting. Now, Josey, to-morrow I set off in pursuit of my cousin, and my stay will, perhaps, be too long for my patience under uncertainty; so I am resolved, before going, to learn my fate at the Heronry to morrow morning. You being at once my old friend and her intimate acquaintance, I now come to ask you frankly if, knowing her as you do, you are aware of any reason why she should have thus reversed her behaviour to me? Is she attached to any one else?" "I am not aware," answered the Curate, shortly, and in a strange voice. "Are there any family reasons why she should reject me? You see, Josey, I am anxious so to shape my course to-morrow as to depart with a certainty of some sort. I will insure success if I can. If that be out of the question, I wish to avoid refusal." "I know of no family reasons," answered the Curate, dryly, as before. "You cannot, then, as my friend and hers, throw out any light for my guidance. Remember, if she were an ordinary woman, her conduct might be set down to coquettish caprice; but, with her, all little motives are out of the question." "It is a matter," said the Curate, making an effort to speak when he observed that Fane, looking anxiously at him, seemed to demand a reply"it is a matter in which I cannot advise. This is the first confidence you have thought proper to repose in me on the subject, and your demand for counsel is, therefore, scarcely reasonable." "But it is only within these three days I have been fairly apprised of my own feelings," said Fane, who wondered at Josiah's unexpected want of sympathy, yet little suspected its cause. "May be so," said the Curate, steeling himself against argument; "but this is a delicate subject, on which every man ought to think and act for himself." "Perhaps you are right," said Fane, adding, with a half smile, "but I never expected to hear such advice from you to me. I have come upon you in an unlucky moment. Well, Josey, I will, as you somewhat stoically recommend, trust to myself only to-morrow. But I must not forget what was, after all, perhaps, the main object of my coming to-night. This morning I had a letter from my uncle, |