melancholy, whether a poor forlorn creature like myself goes away or stops?'

'I don't know as to anybody,' replied Mr. Josceline; I can only answer for myself. To me your departure would be a misfortune indeed.'

'Do you really wish me to stay, then, a little longer? Really?' and the widow modestly lowered her eyes, and gave her hand a well-practised turn which exposed a bouquet of diamonds.

'I do. I implore it,' whispered Mr. Josceline eagerly.

Hush,

Then I remain,' she answered. here's Anastasia,' and she drew her fingers back from Mr. Josceline's tender grasp with such celerity that she actually left one of her rings in his hand. Even the temporary acquisition of such an article under such peculiar circumstances would have been a source of embarrassment to some people; but Mr. Josceline merely slipped it into his waistcoat pocket with one hand, while he took the Como from Anastasia with the other.

This is indeed a masterpiece,' he said, and then fell into an art-ecstasy; a performance which to him was as easy as stroking a cat.

And am I really to keep it?' he inquired,

as he rose to take his departure.

By all means,' said Anastasia delightedly; let me put it up in paper for you.'

In the rustle which this proceeding occasioned, the widow contrived to whisper, 'And you will keep my little gift too,' in Mr. Josceline's ear.

6

I have given a ring or two away in my time,' reflected that gentleman when he found himself in his own apartment, and in each case with a certain significance attaching to it. But I don't remember any one having given me an "engaged ring" before; and it's not leap year, neither. However, the lady's booked, which is a great relief-my poor dear Ella.'

105

CHAPTER XXIV.

A CHANGE OF VIEWS.

On the evening of the same day on which Mr. Josceline and his daughter had visited Clover Cottage, Mrs. Gammer brought her two lodgers the tidings of little Davey's illness. The young men were greatly distressed by it, for the child was a favourite with them both; and Felspar at once went up to the hotel to volunteer his services as sick nurse, which Vernon would also have done but that the state of his wounded hand for the present rendered him useless for such a post. Felspar's assistance was of course declined, since the two ladies were already installed as nurses; and, as Mrs. Armytage cynically observed, 'It would hardly have done to turn the Prior's House into an Agapemone.' From inquiries made at the doctor's, it seemed that nothing was known for certain as to the

nature of the illness; but among the little world of Wallington Bay it was represented, of course, as most alarming. Though some well-meaning attempts have been made of late years to discourage 'sensation,' they have not been wholly successful; and I am inclined to think that there is something in human nature itself which welcomes the thing, and has always done so, though of old it may have gone under some other name. With those who live dull, uneventful lives, in particular, anything out of the common way is attractive, even if it be a misfortune, provided only, of course, that it has not happened to themselves.

In Felspar's absence, Mrs. Gammer discoursed to his friend upon the topic with much satisfaction, and dwelt with unction upon the very gloomiest view of the case. • After all, Mr. Walter, we must all die, young or old; it don't much matter, for it is only a question of a year or two.'

'My dear Mrs. Gammer,' said Vernon, 'you speak like a philosophical work, but even philosophy may be overdone. It would make

me very uncomfortable, for example, to think you yourself would only live a year or two, and little Davey is much younger than you.'

6

That's true, Mr. Vernon; and though, thank Heaven, I never have an ache or a pain, I don't feel so much of a permanency as I did.'

The term permanency in her mouth was characteristic; her calling coloured her whole existence; man, in her eyes, seemed not so much a tenant for life as a lodger, more or less liable to quit at a moment's notice.

But these little people are soon up, as well as soon down,' urged Vernon cheerfully.

'Ah, but, mind you, the poor child is delicate, and a very bad subject for a disease of any kind. Fever, they say, comes from drains, as is like enough; for my part I don't hold with these new-fangled inventions-sanitaries and what not; and there have been no drains in Wallington to my knowledge, and, until this present one, no fevers either. Now in Lawton -for I ha' been there scores o' times and smelt it-they've got what they call a sewage system, and the consequence is mumps is never out of