some respect, and were not unfriendly | London for the first time, as most country towards her. In other circumstances, Pleasance's sound and well-gifted nature might have eagerly responded to the novelty and exhilaration of such a journey, and risen with elasticity to the anticipation of fresh experience and a fresh world. But she had been only four months ago cruelly taken by surprise and driven desperate. Her rooted convictions and prejudices, her loyal adherence to a chosen standard, and her tender feelings had all been up in arms and in hard conflict, so that the wounds of that conflict must remain long unhealed, and the scars would prove ineffaceable. And she still bore a heavy, crushing burden of steadfast opposition to whatever culpable weakness of herself or another might beset her in her self-appointed task. As it was, Pleasance saw everything with the sedateness and impassiveness, the half-tired, half-hopeless spirit that has only just come up out of the deep waters, and can hardly so much as imagine that there any safe footing, not to say pleasant path, left for the wayfarers in this troublous journey of life. is Pleasance took her seat in a third-class carriage scantily occupied at this hour with sober, serious working-people going to work a few miles down the line, or to market at the next town. She was herself the most serious of the party, so much so that one of them, a frank woman, asked her pointedly if she had lost a good place, or if she had been sent for home to wait on some deadly-sick relation, or had she got her pocket picked? When the neighborhood of London presented itself, with its unmistakable increase of brick and lime, extending farther and farther in new and half-built houses into a waste which is neither town nor country, with ancient country tea-gardens left stranded in an advancing suburb, with cemeteries and breweries and a smokecloud the more perceptible on this occasion that the spring day was sinking down in chill greyness after the fashion of spring days-beginning to be hung out like a grim pall over all, Pleasance did rouse herself from her private troubles. However pressing these troubles might be, this was London, the great city of the modern world, the first look on which was an event in the life of any creature breathing thoughtful breath any creature, great or small, young or old, care-laden or carefree. ..Pleasance had had her dreams of seeing bred men and women have had theirs from childhood. Not so long ago she had made her plans to be taken there and shown its wonders by a duly qualified cicerone, who would have delighted in his office, and in whom she could have put boundless faith. The plans had broken down, and it was under such auspices as she never could have anticipated that she, like many another gazer, was catching her earliest glimpse of London was looking at the ugly wilderness of mean houses which, from whatever side a traveller enters, soonest meets his view, and asking herself could this be great London, great in power, knowledge, and benevolence, the biggest, wealthiest, busiest city in the universe? Pleasance thought, with a stolen sigh, that she had been right to prefer, when the choice seemed offered to her, a country life to a town life, and to judge that the fate of working-people in all the essentials of air and sunshine, space and nature, was infinitely preferable to what life could be in a huge city, to which necessity and higher wages drew them. Lastly, a great ache and misery smote her with the vivid comprehension that she had come to that London in which he was dwelling at this very time, but in a region far apart from her, and with which she would have nothing to do. Pleasance arrived at her station dauntlessly, with no protection save her humble independence, her modest dignity, and a little money in her pocket. She had no idea that she ran any personal risk, that her beautiful face could expose her to annoyance, or that the dozen sovereigns, which she had put into a purse, that was stitched into her pocket, might prove to her a snare rather than a safeguard. She did not know a house to go to in the millions of houses in London, since she had no intention of seeking Archie Douglas in his mother's house, or of applying to Clem Blennerhasset in his boarding-house. What she thought of was to ask some respectable man or woman - she had no fear of not meeting or not knowing such when she did meet him or her to tell her where she could find a quiet inn for thirdclass travellers where she might "put up,” as she called it, in the mean time. She was as ignorant of London ways as any foreign girl set down in its thronged and bewildering streets. But intrepid intelligent innocence is its own passport even in London. Pleasance hit on her respectable man in one of the railway guards, a circumstance | felt rather inclined to grow heart-sick at which was so far fortunate for her theory, the thought of the great gardens at Kew, since in addition to his credited incorrupti- the Crystal Palace, the museums, picturebility, he was bound by his official duties galleries, and theatres. If it were not to to help and stand by travellers. "Can you fortify herself against the outcries of such direct me to a quiet inn for third-class as Lizzie Blennerhasset, she would be travellers where I may get lodgings and tempted not to go near the sights. It was will pay my way?" said Pleasance, with to take some definite step in the fulfilment that most transparent simplicity of hers. of her mission, to do something towards freeing herself from being a party to a false concealment, and then to hurry away from London and bury herself once more down in the country, that Pleasance longed. The man looked at her, thought for an instant, and then called a trusty old porter, who guided her through one or two of the city streets, the noise of which half deafened her, to a comparatively retired back street. There, at the sign of the Yorkshire Grey, was such an old-fashioned inn, as is still the headquarters of some of the carriers' carts which remain on the metropolitan roads. As soon as Pleasance had breakfasted, she started under the direction of the landlady to walk to the nearest thoroughfare and its first cabstand, when, calling a cab and entering it, she told the driver to take The place was quiet as Pleasance had her to some of the fine streets and squares, wished. It "did" a limited regular busi-and past a particular house of which she ness, and was kept by sedate elderly peo- gave the address. He was then to bring ple, a widow and her daughter, punctilious in their line, who, though they laid themselves out for carriers, and were much bet ter accustomed to them than to wandering damsels of any degree, were still not unwilling to admit any respectable guest. Pleasance had succeeded admirably, considering the chances, even to her instalment in a tidy little bed-room which looked out over an assemblage of roofs to the sky, and outside the window of which there was a box of thyme brought there from a country garden, by a carrier of floral tastes. Pleasance had nothing more to do than order a cup of tea, and bread and butter, brought to her with an additional offering of watercresses by the staid old landlady herself. When the day was done, she was at liberty to seek what sleep she could find in the excitement of her new surroundings, with the muffled roar of London, and the squalling of back-settlement cats, contending in her ears. She was bound to get rid of her fatigue, and to nerve herself for the arduous undertaking that lay before her. her back to his stand. Whether the man regarded the order as peculiar or not, he made no demur in obeying it. In the rawness of the morning, while the sun was still fighting a piteous battle with a combination of smoke, fog, and mist, Pleasance was driven by Piccadilly and Park Lane in the first place. She sat and gazed about her with a rush of color to her cheeks, though she was driving there all alone. She marked the entrance to Hyde Park and the Row, where two or three straggling horses were being aired, and where she easily guessed that Archie Douglas must have been riding with his sister and friend, when Clem Blennerhasset saw them. Would they ride there every day, according to the practice of the great folks in novels? But she tried to put away the overpowering vision, with the suggestion which it brought, and to gratify the impulse that had led her there. She could look around and make her observations undisturbed, in the comparative ease and retirement of the cab. It was not to her a shabby ramschackle vehicle given to doubtful freights, drawn by a scarecrow of a horse, and dear at its hire, but as fine and complete an equipage, horse excepted, as it appears to a country child, come to town for its holidays. It would be a privilege to have such a carriage at command for the payment, not of a shilling, but a crown. Though the Yorkshire Grey kept early hours, Pleasance, with her country farmhouse habits, was earlier still, and having dressed and read the lessons which she had learnt to read with Anne at Miss Cayley's, and prayed out of her devout, earnest heart, she was restless for breakfast that she might be stirring. It was not Pleasance marvelled and admired, in to visit the sights of London-Pleasance's spite of the asperity which caused her to heart was far too full for that. Indeed, contrast those hundreds of lordly manwith reference to the old plans-old, yet sions, not with the hideous dens in the not of a year or half a year's standing. squalid courts of which she had not dreamt, which she had made about London, she | but even with the myriads of mean houses from which she had shrunk on her entrance into London. She was tempted to think the natural, foolish, short-sighted thought, how could the inhabitants of the one region bear to conceive of the existence of the other? Did they deliberately propose to themselves, like Dives, to take to themselves the good things here, while they left the next world and its chances to their poor brethren? At last the cabman turned into Grosvenor Square, and Pleasance, sitting far back in the cab and holding her breath, saw an inclosure of large houses with grass and trees in the centre. The door of one mansion was open, and a portly porter, in red breeches and laced coatthe very finest-looking man in point of dress that Pleasance had ever seen revealed, already lolling in his oaken chair, with his huge morocco-bound book before him. On the steps of another house two exquisites of footmen were airing their perfection of livery. was The particular house in the square was reached. Pleasance's driver passed slowly, while he looked back at her with a significant motion of his whip, and an idle wonder why the dickens this fine-looking, better sort of working-girl, nursery-maid, or shopwoman wanted to look at this house above all others? Pleasance, now that she was there, hardly dared to glance out and see the spacious front of the house, the great flight of steps to the closed door, and the verandah with its azaleas and rose-bays. The windows airing the rooms within, were thrown wide, and disclosed glimpses of a rich profusion of satin and lace hangings, tall gilt chandeliers like gold trees with gold flowers, pots on pedestals with more growing flowers, and the gleam of a white passed such a marriage as became neither of them, and Pleasance must publish the marriage, and go back to her elected portion, though he, as well as she, should thenceforth live lonely in his lot. She would never share it with him, to be an affront to his people, even though she should die at last of the honor.- not the happiness, like the lady of Burleigh - and thus free him and all concerned from an incubus. CHAPTER XXXVI. THE ENCOUNTER IN THE PARK. THE afternoon had turned out a dry, half-bright, half-cloudy, windy March afternoon. Pleasance made her way alone and on foot, guiding herself by the landmarks that she had noted from the cab, to the Park, on the chance of seeing Archie Douglas there. She was feverishly restless to accomplish her object, and she thought that if she could meet him in the Park, and he would turn aside and speak with her, she might tell him in as few words as she could command what. her errand was-that it was right, for his honor and for the good of all, that their marriage should be publicly known, however sharp the penalty to him. She could not help it; she would have spared him if she could; and it would be all that she would ever cause him to suffer. She meant that in the long regret which must be the portion of both their lives, since both were alike spoilt, she would ask nothing further of him, and make no other appeal to him. She found no impediment to her entrance into the Park, though with other foot-passengers she had to run for her life in crossing the path of the high-bred horses pawing and prancing as they dashed into the drive. She walked along the footway, and gazed wistfully, and yet neither enviously nor covetously, but with a certain combined desire and fear in her eyes, as she had gazed at the houses in the western square in the morning, at the carriagecompany and the riders. They seemed to Pleasance very numerous, though Easter was not come, and the Park was only half frequented. Surely among so many she would find the one she sought, and in the solitude which a crowd afforded, she would be able to walk apart with him a few yards, and tell him what she had to tell without their association, or anything unusual in their aspect towards each other, being remarked upon. She wandered up and down the broad path, keeping near the gate for a greater precaution-not able to divert her attention for a moment to the budding trees or the spring flower-beds of which Clem Blennerhasset had spoken, incapable of taking her eyes from every carriage-party, or even single horseman that entered, with out seeing the face she longed, yet dreaded to'see till she grew weary. The blustering March wind blew about and battered her, beating in her face, taking away her breath, ruffling her hair and disordering her dress. The fine white dust changed her black clothes to grey, got into her eyes and gritted between her teeth. She could not venture to go into a side walk lest she should miss her aim. It did not enter into her head to sit down, while she reflected that here was nothing of the freedom, freshness, and endless variety of a country walk, and thought that the town was a poor exchange for the country to any class. She began to feel pity for the ladies - many of them with pale, delicate-featured faces like what Anne's had been-half-broiling, half-shivering between the bursts of bright sunshine and the keen wind, as they sat in their furs and silks, going the monotonous round in the carriages. At last Pleasance's watching eyes lit up with a flash of attainment, while she trembled so that she was forced to stand still. There was the same group in the very order that Clem Blennerhasset had described it, but Pleasance saw only one member the one by whom she distinguished the whole. Archie Douglas whom she had last seen in his workingsuit on their wedding-day, with his arms stretched out in a final passionate appeal to her was there clad as a gentleman riding a spirited horse, and chatting smilingly with his companions on each hand. Pleasance stood waiting among the little crowd of idlers and spectators of various ranks, but principally of men from clubs, barracks, and offices, that gather about the Park railings on a favorable spring afternoon. The riding-party was very near her, when she took two or three quick steps forward-so blindly that she was within a hair's breadth of striking against one of the lady's horses, causing it to shy and rear. "Hie there!" 66 Hallo, you get out of the way, ""Hold on, young woman," was shouted in various keys by the bystanders, including a peremptory policeman. But Archie Douglas was yet quicker and more imperative. He leapt from his horse on the instant, and motioned to the groom a few paces behind him to take the animal off his hands. His face had changed from the good-natured, quickly interested and amused look which belonged to it as its common expression, to an eager flush of excitement and disturbance. His sister, whose horse had been the one startled, mistook his action. "Why have you got off, Archie?" she called to him as she continued to pat the neck of her restive horse. "There is no need; Lady Alice has come to herself; it was just a jib at that unlucky woman." The policeman was reminding Pleas ance, in a forcible manner, that she was invading forbidden territory, and must keep to her own ground, that of the pedestrians. "You ain't to walk under the 'osses' noses. What do you expeck? If you want to cross, there is room enough, if you look for it." I don't want to cross," said Pleasance distinctly, in the hearing of all the curious bystanders, prepared to take a lively interest in the altercation and the scene generally. "I have business with that gentleman." Archie Douglas was acknowledging the business by the energy with which he was getting rid of his horse, and bidding his sister and her friend ride on. "But what can she seek, Archie?" the matter-of-fact young sister, not to be set aside, persisted in asking. "Is she from. Shardleigh? Why does she stop us here?" "Come away, Jane," said her more tractable companion; "leave Mr. Douglas to settle his business." But Jane Douglas did not stir. The ring forming an audience, among whom were some personal acquaintances of Archie Douglas, was rapidly taking in all the bearings of the case. The investigation, passing from Pleasance's dusty common black woollen gown and jacket, and dowdy straw bonnet, to her youth and beauty- - when one came to remark itand to the manifest trouble in her face, was ending in one miserable conclusion. "Do come away, Jane," urged Miss Wyndham in a low tone, "we are not wanted here;" while she said to herself, "The stupid, stubborn little goose, she will cause a greater esclandre where Archie is concerned than anything that has gone before." The policeman, in the interests of society, was as pressing in his efforts to get Pleasance to move on or off, and leave the Row clear, for other riders were coming up, 66 to whom the stoppage must prove an im-ed to him. "I thought you meant that I pediment. Come, come, young 'oman, was to take the young ladies to Grosvenor you hadn't ought to think of transacting Place, and meet Mrs. Douglas there?" bizziness here. You must seek the gent, if so be you have anything to say to him, some other wheres, and you and he can speak private." Pleasance lifted up her head. Instinctively she penetrated the shameful misconstruction put upon her relations with Archie Douglas. Some painful experience in the class in which she had lived might have taught even her modesty to fear it beforehand; but the apprehension had not occurred to her before. The blood rushed to her cheeks, adding tenfold to her beauty under all its disadvantages. She looked indignantly full in the faces-pitying, condemning, amused-all bent on her; she turned with swift piteous appeal to Archie Douglas. So you will, I hope, but there may be more than one Mrs. Douglas,” replied Archie Douglas, with a somewhat spasmodic smile, as he drew Pleasance's arm within his, before she knew what he was about, and walked away with her, leaving the liveliest sensation and dismay behind them. "Gen "don't you Rica Wyndham broke the spell. eral Protheroe," she said, think this is not a day for sitting still in the open air for five minutes? I am dying with cold, and even my poor horse is beginning to shiver. Let me have a canter." The gallant general took the cue with the alacrity and intrepidity of a soldier, and complied at once with the young lady's If he faltered or failed her at that crit-request-Jane Douglas being under the ical moment, she would despise him from the bottom of her heart then and forever; she would know a depth of misery which she had not yet fathomed, insomuch as contempt is an infinitely lower abyss than wrath. But Archie Douglas, however he might err, was far enough from a coward. He took the one brave step that was open to him, without a second's hesitation. He went up to the policeman and tapped him on the shoulder. "My man," he said, in a clear, audible voice, "you would not come between man and wife?" He looked round on his thunderstruck sister. "Jane," he said in an accent so decided that it sounded cool," you must know that there are stronger claims upon me than even yours and Miss Wyndham's. But you need not ride home unattended; there is General Protheroe from his afternoon whist," and he indicated a grey-haired officer advancing to salute them with military precision, and in profound ignorance of the scene on which he was about to break in. He was hailed by Archie Douglas. With a steadiness and calmness that only well-read students of human nature could refer to the pitch of excitement, he said, “General, may I ask you to ride on with my sister and Miss Wyndham, and see them home (I think my mother has been expecting a visit from her old friend ever since we came to town). I have to look after Mrs. Douglas." "Mrs. Douglas! Who? Where?" cried the general, gazing about him in a bewildered manner, and neglecting his courteous assurances of pride and pleasure in the commission summarily entrust necessity of riding on with the others, as if they fled from the thrills and shrugs and amazed tumult which the electric shock of her brother's wild words had occasioned. Almost before the girl could think, the spectators of the scene, with their tell-tale faces, were left far behind. Amidst the familiar features of the park, with their special conventionality, Jane would have been tempted to accuse her eyes and ears of grossly deceiving her, and her imagi nation of having conjured up an outrageously improbable incident, if she had not retained evidence to the contrary in the continued absence of her brother, and in the sight, when she chose to look over her shoulder, of Evans, the groom, still encumbered with the led horse. The rapid riding hindered speaking. When the party at last slackened their pace, Rica Wyndham and General Prothe roe, though one of them had experienced a sharp disappointment, fell immediately into the polite hypocrisy of speaking on entirely neutral and uninteresting topics. But Jane Douglas was very young, and, as far as a girl of her position and pros pects could be, very new to the world; and she seized the first opportunity, when General Protheroe rode aside for a moment to put his hand on his daughter-inlaw's carriage door and exchange a few words with her, to adjure her friend, "What on earth can it mean, Rica? Archie could not be joking in such horribly bad taste-it would not be a bit like him and he looked quite in earnest." "I should leave the matter to him, dear, if I were you," replied Rica Wyndham in |