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- of the estate for the earl. ______________â€"â€"â€"'-â€"â€"â€" ammwmmmmmmmmm+mmammmmefi: ,+. 5i h + ff 3 4,. it, + s 12‘ a 2 + :5. + 3i CHAPTER VI. I It was an awkward moment. Norah had descended upon them like an ap- parition, and there was no time to conceal the fury on the face of the one man, or the anger and indignaâ€" tion on that of the other. It was especially an akaard mo- ment for Norah; for, when you come“ to think of it, what can a lady do! under such circumstances? She can scarcely strike an attitude and ex- claim, after the manner of old-fash- ioned heroines of romance, “Iâ€"lold, forbear! ' ’- I What Norah did was to look from one to the other, and then, as the, blood slowly returned to her beauti-l ful face, to murmur: “For shame!" Cyril Burne’s face crimsone'd, and, being the manlier of the two men, hel hung his head for a moment as hei stood without his hat, which he hadi just presence of mind to remove at‘ her appearanCe; but Guildford Berâ€", ton’s face seemed to grow paler and sallower, and his nostrils contracted as he breathed hard and quickly, and' tried to quiet the dog, which still, continued to threaten him. Norah stooped down and caught Casper by the collar, and her moveâ€" ment broke the spell which seemed; to have fallen upon Cyril and Berton! “Iâ€"I’m afraid my horse startled! yon, Lady Norah,” the latter said,‘ without raising his eyes to her face. after the first glance. “Butâ€"but this' -â€"-dog,” he paused, slightly before the word, and it was evident that he' only just succeeded in SlIlOtllCl‘ngg “cursed”-â€"â€"“'11ways frightened me. It: is a savage, illâ€"tempered brute lhat' ought to have been shot long ago,i andâ€"and I don't think you ought to have him with you.” Norah patted Casper's head ad-l monishingly. “I don’t think he is so savage. And I am not afraid of him." “He always flies at me," said‘ Guildford Berton, eyeing Casper sideâ€" ways; “I'm sure I don’t know why." .There was a moment's silence. Cyril resumed his packing up. Guildâ€" ford Berton stood awkwardly twitchâ€" ing at the bridle, then he said: “It is a fine morning for a walk. I have to go over to a distant part Goodâ€" morning, Lady Norah," and, raising his hat, he got into the saddle, and, with a swift glance out of the cor ners of his eyes at Cyril, rode ofl'. Norah had gone down on one knee the better to hold and restrain Cas~ per while Berton was present, but she rose now, and Cyril quietly came forward and picked up her hat. She took it from him with a slight. inclination of the head and a “Thank you,” and was turning from him, when Cyril said in a low and earnest voice: ‘ “May I venture to apolOgize for my shareâ€"the larger, I am afraidâ€"â€" in the scene which I fear you witâ€" nessed?” “Iâ€"I don’t think it was all Your fault,” she said in as low a Voice as his, but her lovely eyes met his frankly and fearlessly. “Nearly all. I was the offender in the first instance. I am trespassing, and this gentleman very properly reâ€" quested me to quit.” “Surely you Were doing no harm.” “As to that, one does not know. I may have disturbed the game, or intruded on a favorite Walk of yours for instance.” “Not of mine," she said; “I was never here until to-day." “I am sorry I should have spoiled your first visit to so lovely a spot. Indeed, its beauty, as I said, must be my only excuse for intruding. I was so keen upon my sketch. lut I will ef‘face myself as quickly as possiâ€" ble, and promise not to repeat my offense.” “You mean that you will go? Please do not; at any rate, until you have finished your sketch." “You are very kind. I shall not take many minutes.” “Oh! there is no need for you to hurry, and, perhaps, spoil it! Iain sure the earlâ€"my fatherâ€"would be only too glad for you to sketch any part. of the place. May I see it?” "Certainly." OR . THE STEVVARD’S SON [must seem to you I beautiful fill â€" nWM l fi+§3€+3¢i+3§£+§3€+§3€+fi+3§+§i the sketch 'deprecatingly; staying at the quaint little inn they call The Chequers. I think all, he laughed quietly, “excepting, and his voice grew grave and earn- est, “that I am very, very grateful to you for your kind permission to finish my sketch,” and he inclined his head with a simple but deeply reâ€" spectful gesture of acknowledgement. II “It is very little to be grateful for," she said, with the smile that made her face perfect. “I am sure u ny father . As she spoke Casper raised his head with a growl, and, thinking that Guildford Berton was returning, + Norah ran toward the dog. A moâ€" roundings. I don’t think I ever saw a lovelier place." ” “I have not been here very long. said Norah. “I only came here last night. and have seen very little of it’ll) ' His brush halted, and he looked up at her. Every word she spoke had an intense interest for him." _ “Only last night? Ilow strange 1t '1’ l u . , . ) “Yes, it IS strange, very strange, ’ she assented. “And delightful. . scene becomes tw1ce as beautiful when it is one’s own.” “01‘ When one can make it one's own," she said. “Oh, yes. We poor painters have great compensations for our poverty. We are here to-day, and gone morrow, but sort of a reflection of the tunate beings. This wants a. bit of life in it,” he went on without pauS- deem 0”“ , . ,, . worthy your attention, 511', said the earl in his dulcet tones. “We cannot‘ beside him a little longer. lay claim to any grandeur, butâ€"â€"â€"" thing if I He apologetically toward the beautiful “‘0' and, jumping at an idea which Ana, occurred to him, an excuse for keepâ€" ing her “It Would be a great Could put the dog inâ€"just there, at I mean that a of the glade, papa." we can snatch some but with another beauties Norah caught, which belong to other and more for- stand. +fi+fi+§£+§+fi+m¢m§+fi+fi+§+fi+£€+§+fi+fim+fi+fi+fi+fim ment afterward a slow step was heard, and the earl came from beâ€" tween the trees. His head was bent and his hands crossed upon his stick, and he did iot see them at once. Then he start- ed, and looked with his keen gray eyes," which eventually fixed selves upon the handsome face of the young artist. them. Norah looked neither embarrassed nor shy, but, going up to him, said, quietly: “This ‘entleman is making a sketch 8 Cyril Burne had risen, and now - raised his hat. The earl raised his with his accusâ€" tomed courtlineSs, and the two men looked at each other; the elder one with Veiled to- with the frank respect. due to age, scrutiny, the younger expression which but did not underâ€" that you should slyvan scenery ‘ ‘I am gratified purely waiVed his white hand almost the foot of the elm.” And he point- sweep of woods and fields." ed to the spot on the canVas with the end of his brush. “Ile quite quiet now." Casper had almost at his feet, and appeared to be enjoying a snooze after his late excitement. ‘(Xfes’ll “Could you where he is. If I made him get up, pe and yet I don’t Calling to him, foot of the elm, and trouble persuaded him to lie “Will brightly at her success. “Admirably!” he replied fervently. “How very, very good of you! I' won’t keep him more than a minute or two!" “Oh, he’ll be good, I’m sure!” said Norah, know. Casper! " without much down. seems trespassing, my Burne, “and would do so, but that thrown himself down this lady has absolved me.” rhaps he would not sit still again; where you please.’ “I ought to ask your pardon for lord," said Cyril “My daughter has ,rightly interpret- ed my desire, sir,” he said in his Very best manner. “Art holds a pass innocently. port which only the not sketch him from fuses to acknowledge. I beg you will barbarian re-- consider yourself free to wander anyâ€" I Cyril Burne bowed, and the earl she. led him to the mOVed toward the easel. “May one venture to ask the favor of a sight of your picture, Mr â€"â€"--” that do?" she said, smiling He paused. “Burne, Cyril Burne,” said Cyril. “Ah,” murmured the earl, “I do not think I have heard the name be- fore; )iut, indeed, I have been so long out of touch with the artistic world as to be ignorant of its most famous Norah called back, and, thinking onâ€" men.” 1y of the picture, and nothing of herself, she gently sank down on the moss, and laid her hand on the dogs collar to keepI him quiet. Cyril did not speak again for some minutes, but painted. rapidly: then he looked up. There was a faint flush on his tanâ€" ned face, and a light, halftriumphant halfâ€"apprehcnsive,in his eyes. “I’ve got him!” he said. Norah sprang to her feet, and came behind him, and uttered an exclamaâ€" .tion. He had painted herself as well as Casper. He looked up at her face, that now had more roses than milk in it, and in a low, almost pleading voice, said: “Are you offended? Pray, pray forâ€" give me. It was such a temptation! If you are angryâ€"" And he held the wet brush over the figure in the picture as if he were going to daub the picture looks better with a figure in it; and no one could tell that it was me.” A “No, no; it is very gracious of you not to be angry, for it was exceed- ingly presumptuous of me.” “Perhaps if known we were should have Casper and I had being painted, we put ourselves into a [more graceful pose." “He is wonderfully quiet for so savage a dog. ' “But he is not savageâ€"at least, I am sure he is not. It is only with it out. “No, do not paint it out. I think I! 5 -persons he does not like.” "Then he does not like the gentle- he said interrogatively. (IN_O’ Norah. “Would you think me very inquisi- tive if I asked you who he is?”~ he ‘said, gently and respectfully. “His name is Guildford Bei'ton,” replied Norah at once, “and he is a great friend of my father’s." V “And of yours?” he said in a' low voice. “I cannot tell you how sorry I am that I should have quarrelcd with a friend of yours." "He is not a friend of mine; I mean that I scarcely know him. I saw him for the first time last I suppose not,” assented Norah went up to it, and looked at night.” it, and at once recognized that the trespasser was not a mere amateur. “It is very pretty," dreamily. “It would have been thousand pities to have left it un- finished. Please go on!" He seated himself on his camp- stool obediently, and took up his palette and brushes. “What a lovely little glade!" she said, absently; “and how Well you caught' that beam of light across the elm trunk.” “Well, that isn't difficultâ€"a trick of Chinese white and ochre. You spoke just now of the earl as your father?” “Yes, I am Lord daughter." “Then, indeed, I have full author- ity for remaining, and am trespass- ing no longer. You have the good fortune to live in very beautiful surâ€" Arrowdale’s “I am one of the least famous, my lord," he said. “Then your merit still awaits its reward, believe me," rctorted the earl. “I ought to ask your pardon for trespassing, my lord,” said the earl, raising his eyeglass and examining the sketch with the appropriate air of critical-attention. But as he saw the figure of Norah he turned his glasses upon the artist, and then upon Norah with a veiled sharpness. “Is this the first time you have acted as a model, Norah?" “Yes,” she replied, “and I did it unconsciously now. Mr. Burne was painting the dogâ€"" “And presumed to add another figâ€" ure," said Cyril, quickly, “and, with your daughter's permission, retained it on the canvas; but if you have the least objection, my lordâ€"â€"â€"” ‘He took up the brush as he had done before. “No, no,” said the earl, evidently mollified by such prompt deference; “pray let it stand. LadyNorah is the best judge of theâ€"crâ€"conven- ances"â€"-he said this as if he meant to imply that she was the very worstâ€""and if She does not 'object ~â€"â€"" He shrugged his shoulders slightly, as if the matter were really too trivial for elaboration. “Per- mit me to repeat my request that you will use any part of Santleigh you please for your sketchâ€"book, Mr. Burne, and to wish you goodâ€"bye. Come, Norah," and he raised his hat with a stately grace. Norah bestowed a bow and a smile upon Cyril, who bent respectfully, and the curl and Norah walked aWay. out; then in the softest and suavest of voices, he said: “I-Iad man before, Norah? Pray that's ton. lie is incapable of rudeness." Could it be possible that the earl, Harman said. so 7’. “and I amiI Venture to remark that you must to have her-under your charge, would lilave misapprehended Guildford Ber- you not?" “You are very good, my lady,"- almost inaudibly. who seemed so keen and incisive an “And she will. be glad to come, I obserVer, ‘should be Guildford Berton? “Guildford is a young man of great firmness and tenacity of purâ€" pose, and he is a model of courtesy and forbearance. I fear that the young stranger must have been the person guilty of incivility.” A swift denial rose to Norah's lips, but she suppressed it. “Indeed,” he resumed. “the young man appears to me to have any quantity ofâ€"will call it confidence. Doubtless he will paint a finished picture from his little sketch, and it will be represented in next year’s Academy as a portrait of Lady Norah ' Arrowdale. Perhaps that would not altogether displease you, however.’ ' “I am sure he will do nothing of the kind,” she said, quietly and conâ€" fidently. “You said, papa, that he was a gentleman.” V “A gentleman leavened by the ar- tist. But we can easily set the matâ€" ter at rest. luildford Berton shall make inquiries about him, and if he finds his credentials satisfactory, I will, if you like, call upon him and ask him to dinner.” “I am quite indifferent, papa, and perhaps he would not come.” “It is possible, but not probable. We will see. Cuildford shall make inquiries about him. One should en- courage art." Norah made no response, and in silence they reached the house. As they were ascending the steps, a young girl in a pink dress came from a small doorway below the terrace, and moved slowly toward the shrubbery. She was a slim and graceful girl, a brunette, with hair and eyes al- most black in hue, and Norah stopâ€" ped and looked after her. “What a pretty girl papa!" she exclaimed, with the prompt admira- tion of one handsmne woman for an- other. The earl turned and adjusted his eyeglasses. “Indeed! I did not notice. Ah, yes. I see. Was she handsome? One of the maids, I presume. And yet, I do not remember her face." “I should so like to know who she is," said Norah. “She has most beautiful eyes and hair." The earl raised his brows as if her curiosity about an inferior was inex- plicable to him. “I regret that I cannot inform you," he said; “but here is Harman, your maid; perhaps she can do so. Excuse me," and, with a wave of his hand toward llarman, which also served as a gesture of adieu to Norah he entered the house. Harman, who had come out upon the terrace, evidently not seeing Norah and the earl, stood shading her eyes with her hands and looking after the disappearing figure of the young girl. Norah went up to her. “Who is that pretty girl, Har- man?" she asked. “it is my niece. my lady." “Your niece! What is her name? She is a very beautiful girl." “ltebecca South, my lady. We call her Becca. Yes, my lady, she is not bad looking,” and she sighed. “That is scarcely giving her her due," said Norah, with a smile. “Does she live hereâ€"at the Court?" “No, my lady. Becca lives with her granfather in the village, but she comes to see incâ€"with the houseâ€" keeper's permissionâ€"my lady. She’s an orphan, my lady, and Iâ€"-â€"â€"" she hesitated, “I look after her as much as I can,” and an expression of anxâ€" iety and disquietude crosSed her face. “Poor girl! No father nor mother! I hope she comes to see you often, Harman. You must be proud of hav- ing so pretty a niece." “Proud? Oh, yes, miss; butâ€"” Harman paused a moment, then went on as if explaining the. pause. “Becâ€" ca’s a good girl as girls go, my lady, but inclined to be flighty and light- headed. If people would only not be so ready to tell her to her face that she’s well favored it would be better for her." “It must be difficult not to be vain with such hair and eyes. 'An (1 I sup- pose Becca has a great many _ad- I} "That’s it, my lady, she said. “Her young head gets turned, I'm you ever met that young afraid. 'Andâ€"and there is no one to pardon look after her as she should he lookâ€" my curiosity, and if it is unwelcome ed after. My father is Old and 01% to you, do not gratify it.” most blind, and I can’t have her “Why should I not tell you, papa? with me always.” she said. “Oh, no, I never saw him before this morning; and,” she smil- come. into the house? I’m sure there ed, “I should then if I had not overheard him and Mr. Bertonâ€"talking,” she said, inâ€" Becca doesn't stead of “quarreling.” not have seen him is room enough.” “Oh, my lady!" she said. “Butâ€" and in the meantime 2,000,000 francs know anything, and Mrs. Parsonsâ€"that’s the housekeeper, “Oh! Guildford Berton and he met my ladyâ€"will not have young girls this morning. Does lieâ€"Guildford, I in the Court unless they are properly meanâ€"know him?" she said, looked away from him, then toward at him again. “Evidently not,” said Nerah, “for Mr. llerton was warning him off as a 9) “Last night,” he said, drcamily. "Yes," she said, “last night." She trespasser, whenâ€"â€" "You interposed and gave him perâ€" mission to remain, put in the earl, dryly; “and to recompense him per- you in his “Have you been stay- ing long at Santlcigh?” “No,” he said, “only a Very short time." He took off his soft felt mittcd him ‘30 hat, and pushed the hair from his Skemh?” brow,and turned his handsome face “YOU' forget. Palm. that I (10 110E toward her with a smile. “I ought; know he was painting me. He was to give some account of myself." taking Casper’s portrait.”- insert “011, it is not necessary,” she murâ€" "Ah, well! Your friend is evidently mured. a gentlemanâ€"â€"â€"” “But it is right that you should “1ny friend. Papa!" and She laugh' know who it isâ€"â€"â€"-” ed. _ Norah, listening with domicast “At any rate you were very friend- eyeS, noticed the sharp pause. 1y ” ' “I haven’t a card,” he went on; "Why should I not be? Mr. Ber- "a poor traveling artist has very ton had been so rude that I wanted little use for such a social luxury; to make it up to him. to show that but my name is Cyril Burne. I get, it was not your wish that he should my living, such as it, is, by painting, be treated as he had been." such as you see,’i and he nodded at .“I comprehend, but pardon me if M ir."-,r,,u..,,.,,,u,,,,,,.-. “my man who left us a little while ago?” - - For some minutes the call was sd- mirers and is something. of a flirt?” trained.” plished servant,” said Norah, laugh- ing. “One must learn." “Yes, my lady," assented Harman, “that’s true, and Becca could learn anything, she's so quick; butâ€"" "Well?" said Norah, who saw there was still something behind. “Ah, my lady, you’ll think me unâ€" grateful and Becca a foolish, con- ceited girl, and I’m afraid she is, for the stupid child has got it intoher head that she’s above a servant’s place, my lady. And it’s such a pity for she’s so quick with her needle, and so apt at catching up anything in the book learning.”- “I don't. think any the worse of her for all this, and if you think she would be happy, why shouldn't she come and help you with my clothes? I’m afraid you will have a great deal too much to do, and you would like “Why not? Why shouldn’t she concluded in' this way. “But one can’t be born an accomâ€" roof timber of a. harm -...J...:-.'~-«->~.yum.s.- «4’ ~ ' deceived by know. 'And as to 1110â€"" “Very well, then, that is settled. And, oh, Harman, you may tell Mrs. Parsons that I will pay Rebecca's wages. I am quite rich. How much ought I to give her? Please tell me the truth, now!" “Nothing, my lady. But, if any- thing, very little indeed." ‘ “Twenty pounds a year?" suggest- ed Norah. “No, my lady,” said Harman, “that would be too high a wage, and too much for so young a girl as Becca to have to spend on dressâ€"â€" for that’s how it would all go," she sighed. “Well,” said Norah, thoughtfully, “where is the special wickedness in that, Harman? If I earned any inc-n- ey I should like to spend it how I pleased, and I am sure Becca would buy very pretty clothes." “Yes, my lady," assented Harman, respectfully, “she has good taste, though where she got itâ€"if you’ll make it ten pounds, my lady." “Very well," said Norah. “Well?” she asked, with a smile, for the woâ€" man had looked at her with a pecu- liar fixcdness. “Begging your ladyship's pardon." she explained, in a low voice, “I was thinking that I told your ladyship that you were not like the countess, your mother; but I didn’t know you so well yesterday!" and she curtsey- ed. “Will you tell llecca that I should like to see her?" Then she ran into the house, with her heart lighter and brighter than it had been since she arrived at the Court, and altogether unconscious that she had that morning forged two links in the chain of her destiny. (To be Continued.) ..____+____.. A GREAT DIAMOND. How the Duke of Orleans Obtained the Regent. One of the most beautiful diamonds in the world is the Regent. It beâ€" longs to France. Besides its dimen- sions, which are considerable, it unites various qualities which further augment its value. When. rough it weighed 4-10 carats. Its present weight is only .136 carats. Its cutâ€" ting, which is of great excellence, reâ€" quired two years of work. It Was- \'alued in 1791 at 12,000,000 francs. ’l‘his diamond was purchased in. the rough state by the grandfather of William Pitt for 312.000 francs. The-Duke of Orleans, then Regent of France, acquired it in 1717 for the sum of 3,375,000 francs. Acc0rding to St. Simon, who gives an interesting recital of the purâ€" chase of the stone, there is quite a different version from that ordinal»- ily accepted: “’l‘hrough‘ an extremely rare oppor- tunity an employee in the diamond mines of the Grand Mogul was able to extract one of very large size. He found means of embarking and reaching Europe. with his diamond. He took it to linglandgwhere the king admired it, without. however, deciding to buy it. A model of glass was made in lC-i'iglau-d and the man was sent with the diamond and model to LaW, who proposed it to the. Regent for the King. The price frightcncd the Regent, who refused to buy it. “’Ihe state of the finances Was an obstacle on which the Regent ins-ist- ed. He feared incurring censure for so large a purchase, while there Was trouble in providing for the most pressing necessities and many people were 1-.ft in suffering. "I applauded this sentiment, but I 'said to him that it was not suit- al.le,to exercise the same economy for the greatest King of Europe as for a private individual; that the honor of the Crown should be con:- sidered and the opportunity of pro- curing a diamond which would eclipse all others in Europe should not be lost. I did not leave the Duke of Orleans until I had obtained the promise that the diamond should be purchased. Law, before speaking to me, had represented to the possess-or of the diamond that it would be im- possible to procure the sum that he had hoped for, and the loss that would befoccasioned by breaking it up into pieces, so that the price had been reduced to 2,000,000 francs, in- cluding the scraps that would come from the cutting. The bargain was The interest of 2,000,000 francs was paid until the. whole amzount could be raised, in precious stones was hypothecatâ€" ed." In the celebrated robbery at the (larde 'Meu-b'le, in 1792, this stone was stolen and concealed behind a As a result of a proclamation it was recovered by a, municipal officer named Ser- gent. The Regent Was the most beautiful jewel in the coronation crown of King Louis XV. Later, it was held by Vanlerberglie, a banker, as a. pledge for his advances. A historian! of the times states that the wife of the banker took the opportunity of wearing it while it in- her husband's possession. The First Consul in! his turn pledged the Regent to the Batavian Government to procure the funds which were lacking after the 18th] Brumaire. Later he ornamented his Austerlitz sw0rd with the celebrated: diamond, which, in the words of Va,â€" tout, might well have dispensed with} the ornament. " ""1 r-' " ' _. .l..,..:.i_} ., hum‘fi‘ixa Ea ‘ m a. dwarf; , .flr 1': - :_ -' $.15; i > . . r « ,. / .3