and simplest kind. I hope Miss Oliver will understand that-and will you tell her how grieved I am at being able to do nothing for her, but I am literally almost penniless. I cannot even afford to buy a little decent black for our one remaining servant-an omission which will, I fear, be a real shock to the poor old lady's sense of propriety."

"Leave all to me! As to fees, you need give nothing to Parsons-I am bound, after our long acquaintance, to give him a handsome douceur at parting, and I will hand it over to him in your name as well as mine."

"A thousand thanks, my dear fellow ! And will you crown your kindness by writing a line to inform Mr: Bradshaw that we hope on Friday to rid the place of our presence ?"

Daubeny promised, and at the same moment there was a tap at the door, and Lettice with Edward and Cicely entered. She glanced doubtfully at Daubeny, and then, encouraged by his smile, drew near.

"Is it you, my little motherly girl?" said Sir Kenelm, lifting her small chin and gazing into her wistful face. "You look cold and pale. It has been a weary day for you."

Surprised and relieved by the natural softness of his tone, Lettice burst into sudden tears. She was in that state of nervous tension when a kind word is sufficient to flood the eyes.

VOL. III.

Y

Sir Kenelm drew her gently to him, and folded her in a close embrace.

"Think of your brother, Lettice," he whispered, "with "with your mother to-night. Should you not envy him ?"

"We can never feel desolate while we have you, father," answered Lettice, nestling her head upon his shoulder.

"Though we must leave this beloved place," continued Sir Kenelm, “I do not doubt that we shall find another happy home. And now take these sleepy creatures off to bed, and follow them yourself as soon as you can, my sweet little girl. You won't be disturbed by any anxiety to-night.'

"Where are you going?" asked Daubeny, as immediately after the light supper at which he had persuaded his friend to join him, he perceived Sir Kenelm take up his candle and turn away towards the death-room.

"There are

"To my boy," he answered. few nights left in which I can see his face. He will not disturb me--I shall sleep quietly enough near him.”

From that hour till the burial day, Sir Kenelm seldom quitted his dead son's side. Sometimes, towards evening, he would steal out of the awful room and wander out upon the heath, for within the house little quiet was to be had. The judicial investigation which had followed his confession had opened every door and driven out all privacy, and by the kind permission of the

heiress's guardian, scores of prying eyes had since daily investigated each nook and corner of this notorious Castle of mysteries. Mr. Bradshaw had adjudged that the windows of the tower in which the corpse lay should alone have their blinds drawn down-" no need to render the whole building more gloomy than it is by nature," he observed; and in the more distant portions of the Castle, unchecked by the presence of death, the carpenters still continued at their work.

CHAPTER XX.

Oh, very gloomy is the House of Woe,

Where tears are falling, while the bell is knelling,
With all the dark solemnities, which show

That Death is in the dwelling.

Oh, very, very dreary is the room

Where Love, domestic Love, no longer nestles,
But smitten by the common stroke of Doom
The corpse lies on the trestles.

HOOD.

Ir was growing dark on the evening of the day following Ralph's death, when Daubeny, weary with the long day's distasteful labourpreparations for the double solemnities of the funeral, and the move to London-entered Sir Kenelm's empty study, and stretched himself on the sofa to enjoy a few minutes' sleep. He had scarcely closed his eyes when a tap at the door aroused him, and Parsons, entering, handed him a card, informing him at the same time that Mr. Bradshaw would be glad to have a few minutes' private conversation with him.

Daubeny's face grew stern, for, in spite of his Christian charity, the vulgar airs of domineering patronage assumed by Bradshaw towards the deposed family had by no means tended to incline his heart to his clerical brother. However, he gave directions that he should be admitted, and a minute later found himself face to face with the new master of Rotherhame Castle.

"Your communication reached me early this morning, sir," remarked Mr. Bradshaw, extending his hand with obvious hesitation. "I am come in person to make my reply.'

"Will you sit down?" said Daubeny with quiet courtesy, placing a chair. "You find me in a rather disorderly condition, I fear. I am in the thick of preparations for our journey on Friday."

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Pray make no apologies," and Mr. Bradshaw graciously waved his hand. "Let me commence by observing that I have heard with sincere emotion of the departure from this vale of tears of my former young friend, Ralph Harold. It is always a painful thing to behold a fellow-creature cut off in the morning of life, but I earnestly trust that the poor lad's untimely end may be a warning to many, arousing those of his family who are yet careless, and reminding the gay and frivolous that none is too young to be called away."

Slightly impatient of this string of platitudes, Daubeny changed the subject.

"You are very kind," he said, "and I will communicate your condolences to Sir Kenelm Harold. At present, to speak of business! I hope the arrangements I mentioned in my letter will prove convenient to you."

"Thank you "" yes, said Mr. Bradshaw, doubtfully, for he was a little nettled by the decided manner in which Daubeny had