cold-hearted man, who lived only for a scientific discovery, and let his wife and children starve!' said I, with some warmth. 'If he was so entirely devoted to his dishes and furnaces, what business had he with wife or child? It seems

to me, that there are many men who should not marry.'

"She glanced at me gravely, and then said, 'Perhaps you are right; men with a genius for the investigations of science -for instance, might

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'Oh,' said I, 'no man of genius should marry. What business have poets, painters, musicians with wives ?'

"To love and be loved by,' she replied. They, less than ordinary men, can dispense with sweet human love. They must always love.'

"I have no objection to that,' I replied. 'Let them be in love as much as they like; but their love should always be unfortunate, and generally unrequited. It develops their genius, you know. As they live but for the development of their genius, why should they marry and render a woman wretched by showing how little they care for her, how insignificant she is to them, when she ceases to inspire poems and pictures, and music? I think men of genius should never marry.' She was silent. 'Why do you not combat my opinion?' I asked. 'I am sure you do not agree with me.' "I do not agree with what you have just now said; and if I thought it was your real opinion, I might attempt to combat

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it. Men of genius should not marry, you say. But how are you to prevent women-generally the best women-from falling in love with men of genius? Women are apt to love, to worship, to adore those divinely gifted sons of earth. The purer their own hearts, the more entirely will they give themselves up to the worship of genius. Their love is spontaneous, disinterested; they ask no joy beyond that of devoting their lives to the service of the great man in whose eyes they have found favour. Men of genius have generally the most devoted wives. None of these, I apprehend, would exchange her life of humble, loving ministration, to be ministered unto and tended like a queen by an ordinary man.'

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They must be poor silly creatures!' I exclaimed. "Nay-they are generally high-minded women.' "What! and make themselves slaves of men, in the way describe ?'

you

"There is no such thing as voluntary slavery, remember. There is nothing slavish in the devotion of love. To bring the argument home, and end it,' she added, with a smile-' do you think there is anything contemptible,-anything poor, silly, or weak-minded,-in the love you feel for your husband?' "The love I feel for my husband!-Humph! That is not bringing the argument home to me, my dear Miss Hastings. To tell you a secret, there is nothing of devotion in it-I leave that to him. I have no objection to his devoting himself to me; which, to say the truth, he does rather more than I find quite convenient. As for me, why, like the witty Beatrice in the play, "I protest I love him no more than reason." I love him in a reasonable way, as a reasonable man should be loved; not, as you say, women love a man of genius. Thank heaven, he is not a genius!'

"Is it possible!' she exclaimed, looking at me in amaze

ment.

"Is what possible?' I asked. That Lord Carleton is not a man of genius ?'

"That you do not know that he is !' she replied, somewhat disdainfully, I fancied. 'You are his cousin, to be sure!' she added in the same tone. We know the fate of prophets in their own country!' and she smiled as if she pitied me. Oh, Bessy! I felt the Raby blood within me then; and it prompted my reply.

"Really, Miss Hastings, as a wife, I feel extremely grateful for the high opinion, the evident admiration, the-what shall I call the feeling-you are so good as to entertain for Lord Carleton ? Of course, my affection for him is strong enough to make me pass over the very contemptuous opinion you entertain of my own family. I know not what opportunities of judging you may have had. I am only his wife; but to me it is quite clear that he has no genius. He is a

sensible, clever sort of person, admirably fitted for his station, but he has no genius; or if he has, he has kept it carefully concealed from me. I would almost as soon be married to a madman as to a genius!'

"Now, I was aware that what I said was calculated to irritate my visitor, and I was rather pleased to see a slight flush come over her pale cheek during the first part of my illnatured address. I wanted to destroy that calm self-possession which offended my own pride. I thought I had succeeded, for her eyes flashed once; but I cannot tell what came over her. I had no sooner uttered the last words, than she bent her head (we were standing together in my chinaroom) and kissed my forehead with a long lingering kiss, such as I should have thought her proud lips never gave. In another moment I saw her going out at the door of the room, and glancing back towards me with those wonderful eyes of hers streaming with tears. It was several seconds before I recovered my surprise. Her kiss still warmed my forehead. It stirred my better nature. I darted after her. She was hesitating which way to turn at a corner where two galleries met.

"Miss Hastings, Miss Hastings! Stop one moment. I-I fear I said something unkind; something that pained you, just now.' There I stood, half afraid, and yet fingering a fold of her shawl, and not daring to look at her eyes lest the tears should be there still. She is a generous woman, Bessy! There was no proud politeness. She put her arms round me and said,

"It is nothing. God bless you!'

6

"She was going away; I retained her. Stay a little longer; I shall think you are still offended if you go.'

"I cannot stay!' she said. 'Good-by! If at any future time you want a friend, will you trust in Margaret Hastings? Will you? Can you?' and her eyes were fixed earnestly on mine.

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"I can-I will,' said I firmly. But why do you go?' "I cannot stay now.' And she moved away.

K

I shall

“At least, I shall see you to-morrow? I am going to the Rectory,' said I, pursuing her, and taking her hand. "No, no! Better not. Don't come to-morrow. be gone the next day. We part friends '—and she pressed my hands-but friends only in adversity! You wanted to know more of my experience in friendship. I will tell you thus much: there are some persons who could never be true friends except in the day of trouble. It is thus with you and me. You will not forget me, I know. And when sorrow overpowers you, perhaps you will come to me for comfort.' saying, she passed on, leaving me sad and perplexed.

So

“Frederick a man of genius!' She must be blind! "Bessy, I cannot divest myself of the idea that there was— that there still may be-love on both sides. Love kept in restraint-hidden, stifled, perhaps believed to be dead within them, but still there. Alas, alas! I fancied I was such a happy wife! Don't tell me that I am happier than a thousand other wives of my acquaintance! Qu'est-ce que cela me fait? My card house is tottering."

CHAPTER VIII.

THE YOUNG MOTHER AND A REMINISCENCE OF VERSAILLES.

"The canon of the law is laid on him."

King John.

A FORTNIGHT after the date of the last letter the countess writes as follows:

"DEAR BESSY,

“Frederick is at home again. I do not think his visit to London has done him any good. He looks wretchedly ill. He avoids me; not unkindly—not as if I bored him; but as if he did not wish to let me see that he is troubled. Still, if Frederick could see into my heart, I think he need bave no reserves from me. I wish I had never seen or heard of Miss Hastings! She is frequently in my thoughts now.

"I must not forget to mention a visitor who is here now :—

Dr. Ward, an old friend of Frederick's, whom he brought back from London with him. As you have had so much experience among medical men, you may perhaps know him. If you do I congratulate you on knowing a very delightful person. He sits with me a great deal in the morning; and as I see he is really fond of children, I do not send mine away. He seems never to tire of them, plays with them, and watches them as if they were his own. Then we have long talks together about the rearing and education of children. I have learned a great deal from him on this subject. As a physician, his advice is very valuable. He has warned me that Arundel will require much care. He says that his mind is already too active for a healthy child; that his nervous system is too much developed. He says that I must not be tempted to make him an intellectual prodigy. I am glad I was warned of this; for as he is such a clever little thing, it is very likely that I might have stimulated his brain too much. There is no danger of that now, after what Dr. Ward has told me concerning the short and painful lives of precocious children. Arundel is now subjected to frequent cold-water bathing, lives almost wholly in the open air, and is encouraged to run about and to do whatever he can with his arms and legs, and as little as possible with his brain. I think his visit to Carleton the luckiest thing in the world for me. I was just beginning to feel my own ignorance and inexperience in the management of children. Dr. Ward and Miss Price are quite intimate friends, and are full of each other's praises to me. He says that she is one of the best old ladies to have with children, because she has no old-lady-like notions about their training.

"I am sorry to say we are to lose Dr. Ward to-morrow. He has been here ten days. He lives at Brompton, near old Mr. Hastings, and knows that family very well. Margaret is his favourite I can see, though he does not say very much about her. I do not wonder that he is fond of her. He says she was the sweetest child he ever saw. Now, the dear old man could never resist a sweet child. Arundel is his darling. He is fond of Frank, too; but I have seen him walk