had been called forth by the old grudge | out a moment's pause, determined to anagainst his disinterestedness she had once swer the letter at once; truthfully, she found bitter? Had the deeper pain opened resolved, while the truest words he had her eyes to the true state of her heart at ever spoken to her were calling forth an last? To-night there seemed to be won- answering impulse towards openness and derfully little substance in her former com- honesty in her heart. She did not think plaints against him. She could not set much of the pain the hasty words she them up on their feet again, or make them scribbled would certainly give to the perlook anything but self-made shadows, son to whom they were addressed. A which she had permitted to hide the reality bitter mood of self-contempt had followed of her own feelings from herself, and which her reflections, and the glimpse she had now shrank away leaving the truth bare. just had of something real and true in Anxious fears for Constance mingled with Horace's feeling towards her, had opened fears about herself, and bit by bit she her eyes to the injustice of the bargain she recalled the days when Constance's fate had been on the point of making. If he was being decided upon. The small rea- could care much for anything beyond pomp sons, the ephemeral bribes, the paltry and show and worldly success, then she worldly motives that had been held before had no right to take him, and the only her to lure her on to take an empty, love- amends she could make was to put an end less life- a life from which there was to the deception at once. He was too nc escape, none, save the one which Al-good for her after all, this man whom she ma shuddered to remember did actually had trifled with and despised, a great deal open upon the road Constance was too good for a woman who had been ready thoughtlessly treading; that gate, of swift to marry him for her own convenience, descent, that short cut to hell of which no one had warned her, as possibly lying contiguous to the way they had represented ass safe and sure, so easy for tender feet to tnvel along.

while she knew that there was not one feeling of honest preference for him in her heart. These were the thoughts that flowed in an under-current through Alma's mind while her fingers rapidly wrote sentences that certainly would not carry any impression of her self-humiliation or remorse to the person who was to read them.

I am

Alna forcibly wrenched her thoughts away from these dark forebodings, and hoping to bring herself down into an every day region, she took up the second note, at which he had hardly looked before. The "Dear Mr. Horace Kirkman, handwrting was familiar, and so was the very sorry to hear that my withdrawal from gorgeous monogram and the seal she pro- the pleasure-party planned for Thursday ceeded to break open, with a languid week is likely to be a cause of annoyance curiosity She had wondered a little at to your father. You must, however, please Horace Kirkman's absence from her sis- to recollect that I did not promise unconter's ba, and been in fact somewhat ditionally. I mentioned when the invitarelieved ot to see him, as it left her more tion was given that I might possibly be at liberty to attend to other guests, and unable to avail myself of it when the time ward off emarks on Constance's preocu- came. I said this to your father, and he pation; and now she prepared herself to did not, as it seemed to me, pay any attenread an elborate apology and expressions tion to my warning, taking it for granted (as of regret se could not by any means echo. he is apt to do) that everything would natuThe tone of the letter as she glanced rally arrange itself according to his wishes. through it took her greatly by surprise. I do not, however, mean altogether to exBeing in a ighly wrought mood, she read cuse myself, for I feel I have been very it with that keen intuition of the unex- much to blame during the past three pressed feelig of the writer which comes months, in allowing a great deal to be sometimes wen the sympathies are widely taken for granted by you and your friends, awake. She read Horace Kirkman's which, according to the terms of our agreethoughts thragh his imperfect expression ment was to be held in abeyance till further of them, and cvined how much importance acquaintance made us better aware of our he had attached to phrases that said so mutual wishes. I do not want to try your little. She ha never felt so complacently patience in any way whatever beyond reatowards him a when she came to the clos- sonable limits, and I am quite ready, whening sentence, ad felt with a rush of joy ever you please, to tell you the result on that it opened way of escape for which myself of the three months' experience a minute ago se had been vaguely long-we have already had; but I warn you that ing. She rose ad went to her desk with- if you ask for it now, it will not justify you

Later on in the evening, when the bustle of the start from the railway station was over, and Sir Francis and Alma found themselves alone in a first-class carriage, Sir Francis recurred to the subject again. Under cover of the dim lamplight, he favored Alma with a glimpse into the graver side of his mind, such as he had never shown any one since youthful aspirations and serious questions had been choked out (from expression at least) by what he would have characterized as the real business of life.

Sir Francis spent a great part of the | I really don't know that I have been anymorning in Saville Street, and came back thing else to them, except, to be sure, their much impressed with the straits to which father, so, perhaps, I have no right to the West household had evidently been complain after all." reduced, and with the good sense and courage displayed by Harry and Mildie in the melancholy circumstances that threw so much responsibility into their hands. "Sensible young things, both of them," he remarked to Alma, "children that a father might, one would think, have been proud of, even if he had made a muddle of everything else he had put his hand to in life. I don't think I should have died of a broken heart, if I had had a son with as much pluck and character as Harry West to stand by me in my misfortunes. We must see more of the lad. I wish any one "Poor, old West !" he began reflectively. of your brothers were worth half as much." Harry took me up into the room where I begin to suspect I have been something he was laid out, and I must tell you, Alma, of a fool myself to spend three or four it gave me a greater shock to see him lying hundred a year a piece on their education, there than I should have expected, conto turn them out at last a set of useless sidering how little we have been to each coxcombs, who will never show me a grain other of late. He looked much younger of gratitude as long as I live, when perhaps than when he was alive; the few hours' a little wholesome neglect and hardship quiet had turned him into a fine, handsome, might have made Harry Wests of them. dignified-looking man, such as he used to There can be no prima facie reason why be when I first knew him and was rather poor old West's sons should be worth proud of his acquaintance. The expresmore than mine. Circumstances must be sion of his face was as peaceful as if he to blame for the difference somehow." had not slipped away into the other world, leaving his work undone, and his wife and children burdens on other people's shoulders. I could not help wondering as I stood by him, how it all looks to him now. What does he see-for I suppose he sees something, and that the aspect of affairs is a little different on the other side of the great gulf from what it is to us here. It's wonderful, perhaps, that one goes on thinking so little about that last plunge, and taking so little trouble to find out whether one is exactly on the right tack, and whether, after all, one may not find that all one's toil and struggle and hurry have been given for the wrong things. If so, to have failed mayn't matter so much as one fancies, and poor West's life, as he looks back upon it now he is out of the battle, may not be more of an overthrow than a good many other lives that look better from this side. He has kept his wife's love at all events, and got a hold on his son's memory that won't wear out. Who knows but that those possessions may be counted more to his credit out there than all he lost, all we despised him, poor fellow, for losing?"

"But would you be quite satisfied to have Frank or Gerald made up over again exactly after the West pattern?" objected Alma. "You are seeing the Wests under a halo of pathos just now; but in everyday aspect I doubt your liking to be called old chap, and slapped on the shoulder by a youth, who interlards his conversation with as much slang as comes from Harry West in his normal state of spirits."

"Well, I don't know, I think I could put up with even that, to be assured of the amount of right feeling I have had good evidence of in the West lad to-day. I could forgive a little over-familiarity, or don't be shocked, Alma - a little want of polish, to know that I should be looked at and spoken about after I was dead with the real love and tender reverence Harry West showed to-day, in speaking of and looking at the father whose folly and stupidity had impoverished him. Well, well, as I said before, there are compensations in all lots, and perhaps we get what we work for fairly enough on the whole. Misfortune drew West and his lad together, and made them friends, while I have been too busy all my life to cultivate much acquaintance with my sons. They look upon me as a convenient sort of machine for making money for them to spend, and

"Papa, you should not talk as if there was no one to love and appreciate you," said Alma, putting out her hand in the darkness and laying it over his.

"Well, no, I don't suppose I meant who could be reckoned on as a trustworthy that; I am not complaining," answered companion and friend under any circumSir Francis, sinking back into his shell, stances. Then had come that allusion to after the manner of his kind, when the the Kirkmans, and she had felt repulsed, danger of being drawn into talk on abso- driven back into the loneliness to which lutely personal topics becames imminent. she had shut herself lately. Her father "No, my dear. It was a shock, as I said, then, was reckoning just now, after all and sets one thinking, but it does not do these reflections, on his share of advan to dwell on such subjects too long. Re- tage from the Kirkman El Dorado, to flections of the kind seldom have any which she held the key! She knew he result in action, one plods on pretty much would be kind and just to her, when she in the groove one has got into, at my time spoke to him about that letter to Horace of life, whatever one says. And, indeed, Kirkman, which seemed to have been I shall have enough to think of, apart written years ago, instead of this morning, from moralizing, if I'm to have, as I plainly but she saw also that she should have to perceive I shall, another family on my bear the weight of his disappointment, as hands as well as my own. I wonder well as of that despair of her mother, on whether old Kirkman could be wrought up which she thought more and more ruefully to interest himself about those boys, and through every hour of the long journey. push them on in the world for me. You'll have to see about that, Alma, when you get the reins into your hands there. I shall look to you and Horace as valuable coadjutors in my new cares, and luckily poor West's sons are more likely subjects for Kirkman patronage than any of mine. Little Emmie won't be much of a burden on any one; and, by the way, was there not something about her in your mother's last letter?a hint about a match for her, was it not?-but, never mind, my dear," as the sudden withdrawal of Alma's hand brought a suspicion that he had stumbled upon a topic not likely to afford Alma pleasant meditations on her night journey. "Never mind, I have talked too long. You had better get a nap while you can, for I foresee a roughish passage, and I'll try if I can't spell out my Times by this vile lamp, for I have actually not unfolded it to-day."

Sir Francis stretched out his hands towards some newspapers which his servants had duly strapped up with the railway-rugs, and lighted upon a paragraph, in which some circumstances affecting the fortunes and reputation of an old rival were commented upon. He was soon as intensely absorbed in his reading as if he had not stood, an hour or two before, half envying the peace of poor Mr. West's death-smile.

From Blackwood's Magazine. NOVELISTS.

As knowledge is increased, books are multiplied, but nothing in the way of books has been multiplied so fast as the novel. In most branches of literature, the author is presumed to have had certain advantages of literary training. He has gone in for some kind of special self-culture: he has given thought and attention to a particular subject—probably, before venturing upon a regular work, he has tried his pinions in preliminary flights. The only ordinary exceptions are in the cases of travellers and explorers, and with these the intrinsic Interest of the matter may supply deficiencies of literary skill. But the novel-writer seems to be on a different footing altogether, and to belong by right of his vocation to an exceptional order of genius. Like the poet, he is born, not made. And when we say "be," of course we merely make conventional use of the masculine pronoun; for in reality, in the miscellaneous hosts of the novel-writers, the fair sex very largely predominates. There are many reasons why ladies should be more addicted to novel-writing than men. In the first place, they have far more leisure and fewer ways of disposing of it to their satisfaction. When the hus

Alma drew herself as far as she could from him into a corner of the carriage, and turning her face away, thought bit-band is hard at work, the wife may be terly of the inconsistencies of the conversation just ended. She had felt very near at heart to her father a few minutes ago; she had begun to long to tell him that if he liked he might count on having one congenial relation a son-in-law, if not a son, who had always appreciated him, and

occupied with those cares of the household which engross her thoughts, to the exclusion of lighter subjects, even when she is not actually bustling about her business. But then, on the other hand, she may have an easy income, plenty of servants, and no children, and be sorely put to it to kill the