'Oh ! mother ! mother I , she gasps once, ' for tho love of Hoaven !' but her mother pays no heed. The tornado must spend itself, and does.
As eleven strikes she strides out of the room, banging the door with a last wooden

' damn,'and tho content is onded for to night. Alas ! Eioanor knows too well that to-morrow, and all the to-morrows, and until the end of her life she will never hear the last of this. She lays her folded arms on tho window and her head upon them, as though she never eared to lift it again. As she lies', whito and spent, she hears Vera singing, going along the passage outside : 'Alas ! how easily things go wrong; A sigh too deep, or a kiss too long ' '1 wonder if Nolly is asleep,' the voice breaks off in soliloquy. ' Here is a kiss through the key-hole, asleep or awake. "And'thore follows a mist and sweeping rain, And life is never tlio same again."' The voice, fresh and clear as a skylark's, ceases, a door shuts, Vera is in her room. Then stillness. Then down on tho lawn be low, voices—the shrill treble of Dora, and tho deeper tonos of Captain Ffiench.
