make illnesses like hers so painfully deceptive had come on.

Ellen, who shared Honor's cares and vigils from that day, shared her hopes also; once even, one mild February day, Emmy went out to drive in a carriage hired by M'Carthy. This was the week before the M'Carthys left England.

When the little invalid returned, seemingly refreshed by the exercise, M'Carthy appeared to have something on his mind, which at last he forced himself to speak of to Honor and Mrs. Blake.

It was to the effect that, as Emmy needed many luxuries, Mrs. Blake must accept from 'her old servant' the means to pay for them.

With that he laid notes to the value of £50 on the table, and was about to run down-stairs, when Honor fell on his neck, and sobbed there, -'in the most ridiculous manner,' her mother said afterward.

Before Honor had recovered herself, and by the time these true friends had left the house, Mrs. Blake had put away the money. She was really grateful to M'Carthy, and wrote a

nice little note to tell him so; but she refused to allow Honor to use any of this money to pay Monsieur le Bœuf. They wanted it all themselves, she declared,-which was quite true. Honor had been introduced to Mrs. Blackwall during this time, and could not but be drawn in sympathy towards one whose wasting sickness reminded her of what Emmy used to be, she said, before she began to recover. Mrs. M'Carthy's description of Mrs. Blackwall was a just one, a woman who had seen much of sorrow, and much of all parts of the world.

She had been with her husband, who, she told Honor, had risen from the ranks, in the Crimea, Canada, the West Indies, China, and India, during the voyage from which place he had died.

Honor often fancied she knew more of the world than even that garrison life could have shown her; there was something in her voice and accent, in the bearing of her emaciated form, and her habitual manners, that made Honor sure her new acquaintance had originally belonged to a sphere of life higher than the highest to which she confessed.

Mrs. Blackwall liked Honor's visits, and took great interest in Emmy, which won the sister's heart. Honor readily promised to visit her often after Mr. and Mrs. M'Carthy were gone.

Every one in that little circle felt their departure deeply; but Honor was scarce left time to mourn the loss of her friends.

Before the Biscay waters washed the ship that carried them away, the Destroyer made his last onslaught. This time it was no feint; there were no deceitful retreats, no partial amendments: a few days of hopeless despair for the watchers, of cruel pain, borne with angel patience, for the sufferer, and all was over. Honor laid her sister in that cold suburban cemetery, and felt, as so many thousand others have done, and are doing daily, in that, and many like spots, that she had now no earthly wish but one-to lie down there too.

CHAPTER X.

GLEAMS OF SUNSHINE.

'Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it.'

T

HE members of the diminished family

circle were drawn closer to each other by this last blow.

Both Mrs. Blake and Newton felt it deeply, and in the heart of the former there awoke something of motherly affection towards her remaining daughter, while they wept together over her who was gone.

This feeling did not last long, but for the time it comforted both the bereaved women.

As for Newton, now that he and Honor were left the last brother and sister by the family hearth, they seemed to have more in common than of old.

During those first days of mourning Honor opened her heart to her brother, and told him

the story of Charlie's escape, closely linked as it was in her memory with Emmy's docility and obedience-dear Emmy, who had gone to Heaven without the explanation her sister had promised 'one day' to give her.

Newton was greatly touched by what Honor had suffered, and found fault with her for not having sooner told him all. He was not easily persuaded to let the matter rest, but at length consented to do so.

Honor had wisely chosen that time for the disclosure. Face to face with the great reality death in our innermost circle brings before us, we are all less apt rigorously to weigh our own rights, more considerate of others, less heedful of the praise of men; and therefore Newton consented, as he certainly would not have done a year before, to keep Honor's secret, and allow her to bear that calumny rather than break faith with Sister Justine and Mr. Tracy.

Honor spoke the truth when she told him. that to be restored to his esteem was a thing she valued more highly than what the outer world said of her.

In return, Newton resolved he would try to