.. ""‘D" v- -- luv“.- Illum- Ledy Earle reached the Elma one eveninï¬ in the beginning of September. Bhe as ed ï¬rst to see Dora alone. Dnrin the long years Dora had grown tolovot e stately, glentle lady. who was Ronald‘s mother. 8 e omld not resist her Iweet. gracious dignity and winning manner. So. when Lady Earle, before , , , ‘__~--v._-. â€"~vu-vuvu unuuul’. wuulu theylongedto eee. They knew that he had left home in consequence of some quarrel with hiefetherâ€"eo much Lady Earle told themâ€"but they never dreamed that his marriage had caused the feteldisegree- ment; they never knew that. for their mother‘s sake, Lady Earle carefully canoe-sled ell_knowledge_ of_it from them. and Lad Earle reso to go to the Elms hersel ; great chsn es must bemsde there. Ronald’s wife an children must take their plsce in the world; sud she felt a proud satisfaction in thinking that. thanks to her sensible and judicious management, Dora would ï¬ll her future position with credit. She anticipated Ronald‘s delight when he shouldsee his beautiful. sccom- plished daughters. Despite her great sorrow, the lady of Esrlesoourt felt some degra of hope for the future. She wrote to the Elms, telling Dore of her husband‘s desth.snd announcing her own coming; then the little household understood that their quiet end solitude hsd ended forever. It was arranged that until Ronalds‘ return his mother should continue to reside at Esrlesoourt, and the man ement of the estates should be intrusted to r. Burt, the family solicitor. Aeheirâ€"atdaw everything was Ronald's â€"the large amount of money the late lord had saved, title. estates, everything reverted to him. But Ronald would have exchanged all for one line of forgiveness, one word of pardon from the father he had never ceased to love. Lord Earle’s will was brief; there was no mention of his son's name. There was a handsome provision for Lady Earle, the pretty little estate of Roslyn was settled upon her, the servants received numerous legacies. Sir Harry Lawrence and Sir Hugh Charteris were each to receive a magniï¬cent mourning rin%; but there rate no mention of the once- oved son and 011'. Ronald‘ was “$156an home in all haste, but months passed ere letters reached him. and many more before he reintneitq Englgpd They who saw it never forgot the blank, awful terror that came upon the dying face as he uttered his last words. They bore his weeping wife from the room. Lady Earle. strong and resolute though she was. could not drive that scene from her mind. She was ill for many days. and so it happened that the Lord of Earlesoourt was laid in the family vault long ere the family at the Elms knew of thgohange awaiting them: “My son I †cried théidying man, oiasping hig‘lgandgâ€"“my gon ! " to himâ€"when human likings, human passions, would seem so inï¬nitely little. But, while Lord Earle lay upon the bed pale and unconscious, Lady Earle, who knelt by him and never left him, felt sure that his mind and heart were both active. Hecould notspeak; he did not seem to understand. Who knows what passes in those dread moments of silence, when the light of eternity shows so clearly all that we have done in the past ? It may be that while he lay there, hovering as it were between two worlds. the remembrance of his son struck him like a two~edgad sword --his son. his only child. given to him to train, not only for earth but for heaven,â€" the boy he had loved and idolized, then cast 05. and allowed to become a wanderer on the face of the earth. It may be that his stern, sullen pride, his imperious self~ will, his resolute trampling upon the voice of nature and duty. confronted him in a new light shining upon him. Perhaps his own words returned to him, that until he lay dead Ronald should never see Earles- oourt again, for suddenly the voice they thought hushed forever sounded strangely in the silence of that deathchamber. â€"whexi Be must. ansvééi- ifo? hIéTiâ€"f-e :35 what he had done with itâ€"when he must account for Faulty, talent, {91: the sop given 4. LS__._ There were confusion and dismay m the stately home of the Earles. One sultry morning in August Lord Earle went out into the garden, paying no heed to the excessive heat. As he did not return to luncheon, the butler went in search of him. and found his master lying as one dead on the ground. He was carried to his own room, doctors were summoned in hot haste from far and near; everything that science or love, skill or wisdom, could suggest was done for him, but all in vain. The hour‘ had come when he must leave home, rank, wealth, position. whatever he valued most ._VV,_ w--_ -. - v. .«u .---.v “V. And the one piercing cry on the stair ! Iywt by the halt-written hiie the pen idly tre. loam in m bend, Writes 011â€"" Had I worde to comp pe_ie__it, mind)! ....-,I x. A“ __u. _. ___- - u v-“ w wwll-vw u" W561i View it or who'd understand ?" But. the little bare feet on the stain“ . And the faint. smothered laugh in elm". And the errie~low 1in on the silence. Cry up to me over It all. While the pen. ully tram in to hand, Writes onâ€"“ Had [words to camp ete it, , Who'd read it, or who'd understand ?" But the little hare leet on the stairway: And the mint, smothered laugh in 0 hell. And the eerielow lie!) on the silence, Cry up to me over S all. 80 I gathered it tugâ€"where was broken The tear-faded t read of my theme, Telling how. alone night I at writing. A lair broke in on my dream. A little n uieitive [airyâ€" Mylown ittle girl. With the gold 0! t e sun in her heir. and the dewy Blue eyee o! the fairies of old. Twas the deer little girl that I scolded- “For was it a moment like this." I laidâ€"“When she knew I was bury, {‘0 come romping in for a. kiss! Come rowdyiuq up tron: her mother. And clamorin here at my knee For “ One 'ittle ise tor dolly. and one 'ittle umr tor me l" God pig the heart that repelled her and e cold hand that turned her away 2 And take from the lipe that denied her This anewerless prayer of to-dey l Take. Lord. trom men: ry forever That pitiful eob of despair. And the patter and trip of the little barefoot. L 1“ l‘... A.... _:_.,A2, (By the author of “ Madonna's Down") l u! b an hult- . '1»;qu the Dan. 3333:. “4'?“ LOVERS YET. CHAPTER XIX. The Lou Kl... Never once during the few days of busy preparation did Dora's proud courage give way. The girls at ï¬rst refused to leave her; they exhausted themselves in con- jeoturesasto her continued residence at the Elms and were forced to be satisï¬ed with Lady Earle's off-hand declaration that their mother could not endure any but a quiet life. " Momma has a title now." said Beatrice. ' “He will be so proud of them!†said Lady Earle. " I have never seen a girl so spirited and beautiful as Beatrice. nor one so fair and gentle no Lillian. Oh. Dom. I ebouldbe happy it you were going with “I. Carefully and quietly Dore. listened to Lady Ear e’s plans and arrangements-â€" how her children were to go to Earlen- oourt. and take the position belonging to them. Mrs. Vyvian was to go with them, and remain until Lord Earle returned. Until then they were not to be introduced into society; itwould take some time to moustom them to so great a change“ When Lord Earle returned, he could pursue what course he would. "I knbw it all," reï¬lled Dora. “ It will behard but not so hard nor so bitter as living under the same roof with their father.†"But, my dear Dora,â€aaid Lady Earle. warmly. "have you considered what parting with your children impliesâ€"tho solitude. the desolation? " “You know little of me,†said Lady Helena. "if you think such a thing is possible. You would rather art with your children than accompany t em?" “ Far rather," she replied. “I know you will allow them to visit me. Lady Earle. I have known for many years that such a time must come, and I am prepared '0' 3t " for it; “Yes," said Dora, " their father has claims upon them. I am ready to yield to them. Ido not believe he will ever love or care for them, because they are mine. At the same time. I give them up to him and to you, Lady Earle. The sweetest and best years of their lives have been spent with me; I must therefore not repine. I have but one sti ulation to make. and it is that my children shall never hear one word ainst me." , “You know little 0 me.†said Ladv‘ “ Shelf we speak of the 7 eliiidi'en now ? " she asked at length. " Some arrangements must be made for them." A deep silence fell upon them. Lady Helena was more grieved and disconcerted than she cared to own. She had thought of taking her son’s wife and children home in txjulnph. but it was not to be. “ I can} say} no thore,†sighed Lad)" E1515. “ Perhaps a. mightier voice will call to you. Dora, and then you will obey." " N ever," she reï¬lied; “ they are burned into my hegrï¬ and on my brain._ â€I shall never forget them ; you; son and I must be__a§ra.ngers, Lady Earle, while we live." ' “Can you never forgive and fdrget them, D9311?" unites} Lady__H_elena: ‘ “ Because your son said words to me that I never can and never will for g,et †she cried. “ I did wrongâ€"Lady Helena, I was mad. jealous, blindâ€"I did wrongâ€"I did what I now know to be dishonorable and degrading. Iknewnobetter,and he might have pardoned me, remembering that But before the woman I believed to be my rival, he bitterly regretted having made me his wife. " “They were hard words " said Lady Earle. “ Very hard " replied Dora; “they broke my heartâ€"they elew me in my youth: I have never lived since then. " “ And why?" asked Lady Helena, gravely. A proud flush rose to Dora's faceâ€"hot ange} stirred in her heart. “I refuse all,†she replied, calmly; “ I refuse to share your son's titles, his wealth, his position. his duties; I refuse to make any advances toward a reconciliation ; I refuse to be reconciled." " You must take your place in the world. " continued Lady Helena. uYou are no longer simply Mrs. Earle, of the Elms: you are Lady Earle of Eerleacourt, \ ife of its lord, they mother of his children. You have duties too numerous for me to mention and you must not shrink from them. †The remembrance of what she thought her wrongs rose visibly before her. She saw again the magniï¬cent face of Valentine Charterie, with its calm high-bred wonder. She saw her husband’s white. angry, inoignnnt countenanceâ€"his gestures full of unutterable contempt. Ah, no, never again ! Nothing could heal that quarrel. “ No." she replied. bitterly ; “ nor has he forjptun it. Lady Earle. " aï¬wtionam wife to him. I bore with his faults and loved his virtues.†that I cannot imagine what I should do were I in your lace. Isaytoyou what I shall say to naldâ€"they are solemn wordsâ€"‘ What therefore God hath joined together let no man put asunder.’ Now let me tell you my 0 inion. It is thisâ€"that nothing can just' y such a separation asyoursâ€"nothing but the most outrageous offences. or the most barbarous cruelty. Take the right course. Dora; submit to your husband. Believe me. woman’s rights are all fancy and nonsense; loving. gentle submission is the fairest ornament of women. Even should Ronald be in the wrong. trample upon all pride and temper, and make the ï¬rst advances to him." “I cannot,†said Dora, gravely. " Ronald was always generous and chivalrous." continued Lady Earle. “Oh. Dora. have you forgotten how my boy gave up all the _world for_ you? "_ “ I never inquired -the cause of your separation. Dora," she said. gently. “ and I never wish to know it. My son told me you could live together no lon er. I loved my own husband; ‘1‘ was a evoted and Lady Eula sat for Some moments too Inge}: asbounglod (or _spepch. “ Mr. Earle has not asked it." and Don â€"“he never will do 90. Lady Helena. Is is _ae 331; frogn hie thoughts as from mine. " “But eu‘iely." said Lady Helena. “for the children's sake you will not refuse at lent an outward show of reconciliation ‘2 " ooxfne shall you adopt?" H “Ann " oi": rnnllnll “ None." 359 replica. Your son’s return hu gaming vyhgteve}: to_ do_ wiihgne.†“I wish to see you ï¬rst." said Lady Helena Earle. “so that we may arrange our plans before the children know anythug of them. Ronald will return to Englwd in a few_ months. Dora, what seeing her grnnd-dnughtere. went to Dora's room. wishing for a long consultation with her, Dora received her with gentle, reverential aï¬eetion. Velentlne Charter-la was no longer " the queen of the county." Prince Borgezi had won the beautiful Englishwomm. He followed her to Greenoke. and repeated his question. There was neither ooquetry nor ntl‘eetlon in Valentineâ€"she had thought the matter over, and decided that she weal There was an unusual stir of pro srstion once when Lady Earle told them t net the daughter of her devoted lrieud Lsdy Chsrterls was coming to spend s few days at Esrlesoourt. Then. for the ï¬rst time. they saw the beautiful and stately lady whose fate was so strangely interwoven with theirs. Beatrice with her brilliant beauty, her magniï¬cent voice. and gay. graceful manner. was certainly the favorite. Sir Harry declared ahewaa the ï¬nest rider in the country. ____--J- How could it be? How came it that their father was lord of Earlesoourt. and ‘their mother the daughter of a plain country farmer? For the ï¬rst time it struck them both that there was some mystery in the life of their parents. Both grew more sh of speaking of the Elms. eeling with t e keen instinct peculiar to youth that there was something unnatural in their position. Visitors came occasionally to Earleeoourt. Sir Barr and Lady Lawrence of Holtham often cal ed; Lady Charteris came from Greenoke; and all warmly admired the‘ 103er daughters of Lord Earle. â€" “ I feel at home here," she said. “ and I never did there. At times I wake up. half dreading tohear the rustling of the tall elm trees. and old Mrs. Thorne‘s voice askingabout the cows. “ Poor mammal I cannot understand her taste." When they became more accustomed to the new life. the strange incongmity in heir family struck them both. On one side agrand old race. inter-married with some of the noblest families in En landâ€" a stately house, title, wealth. ran . and position; on the other. a simple farmer‘ and hishcmely wife, the lain old home- stead. and complete isolation from all they now considered society; It was a new and delightful life. Bee- trioe reveled in the luxury and grandeur that surrounded her. She amused Lady Earle by her vivacious description of the quiet home of the Elms. Mrs. Vyvian had two rooms near her charges. Knowing some months might elapse before Ronald returned. Lady Helena settled upon a course of action. The young girls were to be he tin seclusion, and not to be introduced to t e gay world, seeing onlya few old friends of the family; they were to continue to study for a few hours every morning. to drive or walk with Lady Earle after luncheon, to join her at 7 o’clock dinner. and to pass the evening in the drawing-room. _ A pretty suite of rooms had been prepared for each sister; theywere in the western wing. and communicated with each other. The Italian nurse who had come with them from Florence had preferred remaining with Dora. Lady Earle had engaged two fashionable ladiss' maids. had also ordered for each a wardrobe suitable to _the daughters of Lord Earle. Many days passed Basile Vihey véere familiar with Earloqoom-t. Every day brqught its ngw wonders. “ I am tired of water," she said; nothing wearied me so much at Knutsford as the wide, restless sea. I must have been born with‘a. natural antigethy tkoater.†I Lillian delighted most in the magniï¬cent gardens, the thickly wild~wooded park, where every dell was ï¬lled with flowers and ferns, every knoll crowned with noble trees. The lake, with white lilies sleeping on its tranquil bosom, and weeping willows touching its clear surface. pleased her most of all. Asthey stood on its banks, Beatrice, looking into the transparent depths, shuddered, and turned quickly away. She is Ighed deep 1y y; it was a. real trouble to Ladng Helena that she should never see her son ’3 son, never 1 we and nurse, never bless the heir of Earlescourt. “His neit of kin," reg lied Lady Earle. sadly â€"“ Lionel Dacre e is a. third cousin of Lord Earle’s. He Will have both title and estate." “ We have no brother." continued Beatrice. “Every baron here seems to have been succeeded by his sonâ€"who will succeed my father?" “ There will be one some day," said Lady Helena. “When your father rein-1:138, 9:11 those things will be seen to." They-were deeply impressed with the magniï¬cence of their new home. For many long days Lady Earle employed herself in showing them the numerous ‘treasures of art and virtu the house con- tained. The picture gallery pleased Beatrice most: she gloried in the portraits of the grand old ancestors. " each with a storyto his name." One morning she stood before Lady Helena’s portrait, admiring the striking likeness. Suddenly turning to the stately lady by her side, she said; " All the Ladies Earles are here; where is my own mamma? Her face is‘ sweet and fairas an" of these. Why is there no portrait of her? " Lady Earle watched the different effect produced upon them by the ï¬rst glimpse of Earlescourt. Lillian grew e; she trembled; her wondering eyes led with tears. Beatrice, on the contrary. seemed instantly to take in the spirit of the place. Her face flushed; aprond light came into her glorious eyes; her haughty head was carried more regally than ever. There was no timiditr no shyly-expressed wonder. no sensitive shrinking from newand unaccus- torged splendor: , It was a proud moment for Lady Earle when she led the two young girls through the line of servants assembled to receive them. They were both silent from sheer wonder. They had left Florence at so early an age that they had not the faintest remembrance of the’ retty villa on the banks of the Arno. Al their ideas were centered in the Elmsâ€"they had never seen any_other home._ _ vanished. When they were gone. and e strange. hushed silence fell upon the piece. pride and courage gave way. In that hour the very bitterness of death seemed to be upon her. “Your mother’s tastes are simple end plain." replied Lady Eula. “ Her wishes must be treated with respect." Dore. did not give wey until the two Dora. did not ive lair faces that ha?! b it?" yqqgloriugly; " why will «he. not assume CHAPTER XX. 777V, v--- 1 ‘-“-ln -nw-n' uluuul t'nUon . One morning. on the sisters out in Lillian‘a room. Lady Earle entered with an unusual ox reunion of emotion on but fair. high-brat? “on; she held an open letter in her band. “My dear children." she said. “you Lady Earle had formed her own plans for Boatrioo; she hoped the timo would come when she would [)0 Lady Earlo of Earloaomxrt. Nothing could ho moro delightful. nothiugoaaior. provided Boatrioo would marry tho young heir, Llonol Dacro. desire! She inward] thanked Providence "-at neither of them here the least resem- blance to the Thames. Beatrice looked like one of the Ladies Earle 'uat stepped out from a picture; Lillian in or fair. dove- like lovelinoa. was quite as charming. What would Lady Earleâ€"ac trnthlul. so honorableâ€"have thought or said had she known that her brilliant favorite with tho Earle face had plighted her trothmnkncwn man one. to the captain of a trading- veanc , who was to claim her in two yeare‘ for his wife? 1 L'edy Eerie feltino anxiety about her son‘s return ; looking at his daughters. she saw no fuul‘t in thorn. _Beautilul. accom- It was strange how completely all the old life had died away. Both had felt a kind of affection for the homely farmer and his wifeâ€"they sent many presents to themâ€"but Beatrice would curl her proud lip in scorn when she read aloud that “Mr. and Mrs. Thorne desired their humble duty to Lady Earle." vâ€"--â€" “awn-“l. WW lished. and ï¬aoeful.‘ whiz more oould 3:0 esirel She inwardllitfhap‘kog Pgovideuoe H... ...:Al.‘_ -1 u. __ The letter contained no mention of their mother ; no allusion was made to her. The girls marked the weeks go by in some little trepidation. What if. after all, this father whom they did not remember should not like them 1 Beatrice did not think such a thing ver probable. but Lillian passed many an our in nervous. fanciful alarm. mas. and. in any caee‘iwould be with them by Christmae~day. It wasa short letter, written in the hurry of travelling; the words that touched his children most were. "I am glad you have the girls at Earleeoourt; I am anxious to see what they are like. Make them happy. mother; let them have all they want; and, if it be possible. after my long neglect. teach them to love me." Fifteen months 'p}.}s§22f tank at length came a letter from Lord Earle saying that 717107 hopeq t9 reach Englaml before Christ. Beatrice thought it still more strange when her mother‘s reply to that long, enthusiastic letter came. Dora said simply that she had never named the Princess Borgezi. because she was a person whom ahgflid not care to remember. “ She drew my husband from me,†she cried, “ with the miserable beauty of her fair face. and now she will win my children.†Then across the ï¬erce tempest of 'ealous anger came one thought like 9. rs 0 light. Valentine was married; she hady married the wealthy. powerful Prince who had been Ronald's patron; so that after all, even if she had lured Ronald from her. he had not cared for her, or she had soon ceased to care for him. Not daring to ask the girls to keep any secret from Dora, Lady Earle was obliged to let the letter go. The passionate,lonely heart brooded over every word. Beatrice dwelt with loving admiration on the calm, grand beauty of the Princess. her sweet and gracious manner. her kindly recollec- tion of Dora, add her urgent invitation to them. Dora read it through calmly, each word stabbing her with cruel pain. The old, ï¬erce jealousy rose strong in her heart, crushing every gentle thought. She tore the letter, so full of Valentine, into a: thousand shreds. It was thus arranged that, when Lord Earle returned, the visit should be paid. The evening after their guests' departure seemed long and triste. “ I will write to mamma," said Beatrice; ‘it is strange she never told us anything of her friend. I must tell her all about the visit.†“ You talk so much of Italy,†said Vel- entine to Beatriceâ€"“ it is jusa the land for .he romance you love. You shall see blue sky and sunny seas, vines, and myttles, and orange trees in bloom ; you shall see such luxuriance and beauty that you will never wish to return to this cold, dreary England." When the Prince and Princess left Earlesoourt they made Lady Helena. promise that Beatrice and Lillian should visit them at Florence. They spoke of the fair and ooquettish Countess Rosalie. stills. reigning belle, and said how warmly she would welcome them for their father’s sake. The week she remained passed like a. long bright dream. Beatrice almost worshipped Valentine; this is what she had dreamed of long ago; this was one of the ideal ladies living in the bright gay world she was learning to understand. No, they had never heard her name; and Beatrice wondered that her mother could have known and forgotten one so beautiful as the Princess. at Florence. I {v55 Eli; ‘0â€"f E'surflfather's oldest friends.†The young girls looked in admiring wonder at the lady. They had never seen any one so dazzling or so bright. The calm. grand Grecian face had gained in beauty, the magniï¬cent head with its wealth of gold~u hair, the tall, stately ï¬gure,oharmed them. And. when Val. entine took them in her arms and kissed them. her thoughts went back to the white, wild face in the garden and the dark eyes that had flamed in hot auger upon her. “Iknew vour mother years ago," she said ; " has she never mentioned my name? I used to nurse you both in the little villa Three times had the whole country-side welcomed the stately Italian and his beautiful wife. This was their fourth visittoEuglsud. and. when the Princess heard from Lady Charteris that Rousld's two daughters. whom she remembered as little babes, were at Esrlesodurt. nothiu; would satisfy her hut_s visit there. To the intense delight of both parents, Miss Charteris accepted him. For her sake. the Prince consented to spend every sltefnste year in England. never likely to meet with any one else she liked and respected so much as her Itslian loier. He had the virtues, without the taults. of the children of the South. 5 lavishly generous, princely disposition, well cultivated artistic tastes. good princi les, and a chivalrous sense of honor. Per ape the thing that touched her most was his great love for her. In many respects he resembled Ronald Earle more nearly than any one else she had ever met. looked in admiring They had never seen or so bright. The face _had_ gained in "‘Rdï¬nld."3be began, " I have had much to suffer. You will never know how my heart has been torn between my husband Then taking 'advantage of his mood, Lady Helena said what she had been longing «logy: His heart was strangely softened; 0. new hope came to him. Granted that the beat art of hielife was wasted. he would do hrs at with the remainder. “ And my children.’ ’he saidâ€"“ m Poor little girls! I will not see them until. am calm and refreshed. I know they are well anihappywith yon." In the faint. waning light, through which the snow leamed strangely. mother and non eat to] ing. Lady Earle told Ronald of his father‘s death, of that last yearning cry when all the Pent-up love of years seemed torush fort: and overpower him with its force. It was some comfort to him. after all. that his father‘s last thoughts and last words had been of him. “ Old-fashioned copy-books any. mother. that. ' to be happy. one must be good.’ I have not been good." he said, with a slight anlilo,‘“a.nq I ahall‘nevgrï¬e happyi†" He sighea deeply: had Tm; hotber’s hem grewA A ssd gs she watched his restless face. “How changed you are!†she said, drawmg him nearer to the faaHading light. “Your face is quite hronzed, and you lookso many ears olderâ€"so sad, so worn! Oh.Roual . I must teach you to ““3? YP‘BDB. “Pd 1331’†9893i" ’ " _ He never remembered how long his mother held him clasped in her arms. Earth has no love like a mother’s loveâ€"â€" none so tender. so true. so full of sweet wisdom. so replete with pity and pardon. It was her own son whom Lady Earle held in her arms. She forgot that he was a man who had had inourredjuat displeasure. He was her boy, her own treasure; and so it was that her words of greeting were all of loging welcome. The face. he remembered so fair and (Mm bore deep marks of sorrow ; the proud, tender eyes were shadowed; the glossy heir threaded with silver; but it was his mother's voice that cried to him, " My son, mason, thank heaven you‘are returned I†Tha library door was thrown open. Hardly knowing whither he went. Lord Earle entered. and it was closed behind him. His eyes. dimmed with tears. saw a. tall, stately lady. who advanced to meet hin-‘rwith opgn arms. Sad. bitter memories ï¬lled his heart. when the carriage stopped at the door and Ronald caught snght of old familiar faces. some ingmiles, some in tears. ne remembered his father's face on that morning when, with outstretched hands. he bade him leave his resence and never seek it more; when 0 told him that whenever he looked upon his dead face, he was to remember that death itself was less bitter than the hour in which he had been deceived. back the father whose pride he had humbled in the dust. As the carriage rolled up the broad drive, ahundred instances of his father's love and indulgence flashed across himâ€"he had never refused any request save one. He wisely and tenderly tried to dissuade him from the false step that could never be retracedâ€"but all in vain. A sharp sense of pain ï¬lled his heartâ€" keen regret, bitter remorse, a longing for power to undo all that was done. to recall the lost, miserable yearsâ€"the best of his life. He might return; he might do his best toatone for his error; but neither repentance nor atonement conld give him LII“- LL- 2A4: I Vi, â€"‘>vv uwu gum-alum. IIU â€Ill-Io In the distance he saw the lake shining through the trees; he drove past the extensive gardens, the orchards now bare and empty. He was not ashamed of the tears that rushed warmly to his eyes when the towers and turrets of Earlescourt came in sight. _--__ _..__‘.- I'v-uu uv “UAW". Once again Ronald saw the old trees of which he had dreamed so often. the stately cedars, the grand spreading oaks. the tall aspens. the shady beeches, the groves of poplarsâ€"‘every spot was familiar to him. Ronald was pleased to see him: there were a few words of courteous greeting from Lord Earle to all around, and a few still kinder-words to Morton. u-vl. Itvu was there. 'Lord Eel-1e ‘1‘];(1 feizhim, and the man had asked permission to go and meet his old master. V J" ~â€"- """‘DJ' At length the little station was reached, and he saw the carriage with its liveried servants awaiting him. A warm flush rose to Lord Earle’s face; for a moment he felt almost ashamed of meeting his own domestics. They must all know why he had left home. His ‘own _valet, Morton, m..- £L--- T ,,,:I h _ -v-_ ...- u.«..-u5 uauuuu unu- i These thoughts flashed through his mind as the express train whirled through the quiet English landscape. Winter snows. had fallen. the great bare branches of the tall trees were gaunt and snowJaden, the ï¬elds were one vast expanse of snow. the frost had hardened the icicles hanging from hedges and trees. The scene seemed strange to him after so many years of the- tropical sun. Yet every breath of the- sharp. frosty air invigorated him, and brought him new life and energy. As. I-___L\, AI ‘- hoe. he found it nothing but a burdenâ€" ho and ambition goneâ€"the grand E0 it'cal mission he had once believed to be is own impossibleâ€"nothing left to him of his glorious dreams but enstenceâ€"and all for what? For the mud, foolish love of a pretty face. He hated himself for his weakness and folly. For thatâ€"for the fair, foolish woman who had shamed him so sorelyâ€"â€"he had half broken his mother's heart, and had embittered his father's life. For that he had made himself an exile, old in his youth, worn and weary, when life should have been gll smiling around him. ML--- AI , I - Once more Ronald Earle stood upon English shores; once again he hesrd his ‘ mother tongue spoken by all around him ; once again he felt the charm of quiet. sweet English scenery. Seventeen ears had passed since he had taken Dora’s and in his. and told her he cared nothing for All he was leaving behind him. nothing for any one in the world ssve herselfâ€"seven- teen years. and his love-dream had lasted but two 1 Then came the cruel shook that had blinded him with anger and shame; then came the rude awakening from his dream when. looking-his life bravely i_n the .IIAIA L- I-.___j 3‘ The onlm‘: proud voice {altered then. and the state] mistress of Earlesoourt wept at the thouglt of her son's return as she had never wept since he lett her. must each looko {:0 at very best this evening. I heve a note ereâ€"your father will be home to- -night. " (Continued on seventh page). CHAPTER XXI.