'None that I can see. Would to God there was, my dear young lady!'

'We must tell Hester, then. Hester dear, close the piano, please, and come here.'

Hester disposed of her concluding chords with a bang, and rose and approached the hearth.

'Well,' she said, 'have you not done business yet? and Sunday evening too. O, fie! O, fie! And you want to drag me into your wickedWhat is the question, pray? the relative merits of three per cent consols or India fives?'

ness.

'Hester,' said Audrey, taking her by the hand and drawing her to her side, we have some very bad news to hear, darling. All our supposed riches have taken unto themselves wings, and there is nothing left. We are the poorest of the poor. We have no right

in this house, or in any house. If we are not to starve we must work, and work hard; but at what, Heaven knows!'

Hester looked at her sister and smiled incredulously. This is one of the trials you sometimes threaten me with, Audrey-a cross that I am to carry for my sins. But I don't believe you a bit ; you are only saying this to frighten me.'

'My dear, it is sad, sad truth.'

Hester looked at Framlingham, as if to reassure herself by the furtive smile she might have expected to see on his face; but he too looked quite grave and pale, and shook his head solemnly. Then she burst into tears.

'Ah, that will do you good, darling,' said Audrey, taking her sister on her knee. 'I wish I could cry-my eyes are hot and heavy -but I can't. You won't mind leaving us now, Mr. Framlingham? We shall bear our troubles best alone.'

Framlingham took his leave with an aching heart. These girls were really very dear to him, and he must do what he could for them. That was not very much. They might come and stay for a few weeks at his house in Bloomsbury, till they could hear of something in the way of governessing or other employment. It was hardly likely they would care to stay longer than they could help; for Mrs. Framlingham was very deaf and very fat, and of a most uncertain temper, or rather of a temper that was certain to be bad at frequent intervals. No, they were not likely to stay long in Bedford-terrace. He could hardly wish them to, poor things.

Whatever incredulity Hester had felt when the tidings of misfortune were first announced to her, the reality of the thing was brought home to her strongly enough by the vigorous measures that were set on foot on the following day by Audrey. The servants were all dismissed and set at liberty, Martin among the rest; only one girl was retained till the end of the week, to look after the house and attend to her two young mistresses. Before the day was THIRD SERIES, VOL. VIII. F.S. VOL. XXVIII.

K

over bills were in the windows of the house, announcing it to be let or sold. An auctioneer came, with his assistants, to make a catalogue of all the effects.

There were some things that really belonged to the girls, either by gift or purchase: they both had handsome sets of jewels, which together would sell, it was thought, for a hundred and fifty pounds or so. Then there was the grand piano in the drawing-room, that had been a present from uncle Arthur to Audrey; it had cost a hundred and fifty guineas, and it was expected that it would, if sold under favourable auspices, realise fifty pounds. There were also a sewing-machine and various small articles of fantasy, that would fetch something in the market. These things together would form the nucleus of a little purse, that might keep their heads above water in any intervals of want of employment.

They were happily spared much of the humiliation of explaining to their friends their altered circumstances and loss of position: the news flew like wildfire through the social set in which they moved; and all showed their sympathy with misfortune by religiously keeping away from the house. One or two very intimate friends indeed called once, and were shocked and desolated; and then there was an end, and the girls were left to solitude as the best solace of .care. Had they been perishing with heat and thirst in the desert of Sahara they could hardly have been less troubled with impertinent on-lookers or obtrusive sympathy.

Framlingham indeed was stanch; but even he was a good deal troubled in his mind. Mrs. Framlingham had not taken kindly to the proposal her husband had made to offer the young ladies a temporary asylum at his house. There was a good deal to be said for her view of the matter. As it was, the house was in a state of equilibrium Framlingham, his deaf wife, and purblind cook fitted into one another, and found existence possible. But with two young ladies in the house-fashionable young ladies too, or 'ex-fashionables,' Mrs. Framlingham said with a sneer-cook-she was so called by courtesy, but in reality she did all the household work-cook would go out of her mind, Mrs. Framlingham would be driven to her bed, and the whole household would collapse in hideous ruin. Framling ham himself would probably take to drinking, notwithstanding his age his wife always considered him as on the brink of being dragged into dissolute courses; and then perhaps there would be a domestic tragedy that would make the heart of London quake. No; Mrs. Framlingham set her foot, which was strongly backed up by a calf of enormous dimensions, firmly against any such romantic folly.

Happily for Framlingham, when he mooted the question with Audrey-giving her to understand that, at all events, there was a home awaiting them for a time, if not a very pleasant one-she refused the offer, with much gratitude for its having been made.

No; they would take lodgings for the short time that they were likely to require a home. Audrey had made up her mind to try for a governess-ship in a good school, hoping at the same time to obtain for Hester an appointment as governess-pupil or assistant. Hester's education had not been thoroughly finished, and Audrey had always disapproved of her being taken away from school so young; but she had been the spoilt child of her uncle Arthur, and had her own way then in most things.

Martin appeared at this juncture: he called to see if he could be of any use to his late mistresses; also to inform them that he had taken a house, Bessemer-gardens, Pimlico, which he intended. to let off in suites of apartments. Would Miss Wilford be kind enough to recommend his establishment if she had an opportunity? 'But, Martin,' suggested Audrey, how will you manage your house unless you have a mistress for it?'

Martin said that he had already provided for that want.

'You don't mean to say you have found a wife, Martin-what, already, within a week of leaving us ?'

'I have been married for some years, ma'am; but I said nothing about it, because-well, I should not have liked to put master out, for one thing-'

'But you had no business to think of your master before your wife, Martin!"

'Well, Miss Wilford, it was a complicated business, you see. Circumstances kept us apart a good many years; but we have made matters up, miss, and we are going to live together for the future; it will be more convenient, miss.'

In fact, Martin had thought the matter over carefully; and giving due weight to the houseful of furniture and the annuity of seventy pounds a year, had come to the conclusion to let bygones be bygones, and to take back his partner for better or worse. Mrs. Brown, on her side, felt the advantages of having a protector. Martin, in his unprofessional clothes, with his martial cloak and Spanish hat, was rather an imposing individual, after all; and then he had a thousand pounds of his own, which he had saved during his time of service, besides the expectation of another thousand, under his late master's will. Martin brought capital and enterprise into the concern, and soon infused a little of his own spirit into the lackadaisical ways of his wife. A handsome house was taken in Bessemer-gardens; the old shabby-genteel place in Bodley-terrace was given up; and Martin and his wife were busily attending salerooms, and foraging among brokers' shops, supplementing the somewhat old-fashioned belongings of Bodley-terrace by new and handsome articles bought, for the most part, upon advantageous terms. Martin promised himself some famous bargains at the approaching sale at Avenue-gardens. He was thoroughly well ac

quainted with all the articles to be disposed of; knew all their hidden excellences and secret defects.

'Perhaps, Miss Wilford,' suggested Martin, seeing that Audrey was in something like a brown study, 'perhaps you'd honour my house by being my first lodgers; we shall be all ready for occupation by Friday, although things won't be very tidy; but if it's any convenience to you, miss, you'd feel more comfortable than with quite strangers.'

"Thank you, Martin,' said Audrey; but I am afraid your rooms will be beyond our means: we are very poor now, you know Martin.'

But Martin explained that as it would be some little time before he could expect to fill his house, it would be rather a convenience to him to let off some of the rooms, even at a very low rental; and Audrey consented at last to go and look at the house, and make the acquaintance of Mrs. Martin-no longer to be known as 'Brown' in these pages.

The result of Audrey's visit was satisfactory. The house was pleasant and cheerful, and Mrs. Martin was on her very best behaviour. Audrey chose two rooms opening out of each other, on the second floor; and for these the terms were moderate enough.

CHAPTER XXII.

BORNE AWAY BY THE SYLPH.

THE little Sylph gaily spread her wings to the breeze, the tide was favourable, the navigation clear; and ere nightfall she was anchored off Cowes, and her passengers were watching the sunset in the waters of the Solent. All was movement and life in a quiet tranquil way. Yachts were coming up to their moorings, furling their great white wings, and settling themselves to rest like sea-birds on the gently heaving waters. Boats were coming off from shore and putting back again, whilst the bells from the churches were tinkling gently, their tones mellowed by distance.

As soon as they had made Cowes, Mrs. Petworth had begged to be put on shore. She did not much like the sea, and preferred to sleep on terra firma; so they all went ashore, dined at an hotel at Cowes, and then Petworth and his guest, leaving the ladies behind them, came on board again to pass the night.

It was a charming tranquil night. The evening star cast a long pencil of light on the quietly rippling waters, whilst other stars sparkled here and there in little jets or gleams of light, now seen, now hidden in the wake of some passing craft, or blotted out by the rapid beat of impatient oars. Wilford and Petworth paced the deck together, smoking a final cigar before turning in for the night. They had not much to say to each other, except a few commonplaces about the beauty of the night and the merit of respective

brands of cigars, till Petworth started a subject that interested them both.

'What a curious thing it would be,' he said, if it should turn out-not that such an accident is likely, but one has heard of such things-say that your uncle's will turned out to be invalid, and that you came in for Wilfordhurst again!'

'Of course,' said Westley loftily, 'I should decline to take advantage of any such legal chicanery.'

'You would, eh ?' said Petworth, smiling to himself bitterly; 'you would not accept what the law gave you?'

Not if it involved a cruel injustice to my cousins.'

'Now I can't see that altogether,' said Petworth thoughtfully; 'I don't see any inherent right to property beyond what the law gives us; and where the legal right is, there is the moral, it seems to me.' 'I'm not enough of a casuist to argue the matter out,' said Westley; but I can see that it would be wrong and ungentlemanly to rob my cousins, even if the law gave me the opportunity.'

'But suppose there were persons interested in you, who did not see the matter from your point of view?'

'You mean Olivia's relations ?'

'I mean your creditors,' said Petworth dryly. 'What would their opinion signify ?'

'Why, simply that they might object strongly to your stripping yourself of any rights you had acquired till their claims were satisfied.' 'But could they prevent my doing a mere act of justice?' asked Wilford.

'Most certainly. They have only to make you a bankrupt, and you are powerless. But why should we discuss hypothetical cases? Your present safety is what we have to think of. You must not

think that I had no motive in bringing you away from the Abbey. Suspicious characters were about, and I had reason to fear an arrest. I think I have thrown them off the scent, and that you are tolerably safe on board here; but as the weather is fine and the wind favourable, what do you say if we run over to the coast of France?'

'With all my heart,' said Wilford; but won't the open sea be too rough for the ladies ?'

'I daresay Mrs. Petworth will prefer going back to the Abbey,' said Petworth; but Olivia is fond of the sea. She shall go with us.' 'And the wedding?' asked Westley. Can that be safely per

formed at Abbotstoke ?'

6

'Yes; I have taken all necessary precautions about that,' replied Petworth. Well, good-night; I shall give the master the instructions to weigh anchor with the first of the flood, and hey for Cherbourg!' With a brisk westerly breeze, and a sea crisp and lively, but not over-rough, the Sylph had a quick and pleasant passage across channel; but as they made the French coast, the weather being so