his fear of startling Nora, his step slackened instead of hastening. So he went softly up to her, and stood beside her, with his hand on hers; and though she started a little, the grave thoughtfulness within her eyes died instantly in the light of her great joy-a joy which she would never have let him see had he not come upon her unawares.

"Ah! didn't that startle you-the sudden splashing of the oars below? What a ghostly little boat, to come gliding so unexpectedly from under the pier!"

Nora said this nervously, turning away from Mark to look down upon the water; for she had remembered now, and the childish tears. rose to her eyes when she felt how unable she had been to hide from him the gladness his coming gave her. And seeing this, Mark bravely still (while his own strong impulse tempted him to shatter resistlessly every barrier between them) restrained the words which he knew that she felt she might not hear.

"Where are they all, Nora?" he asked, as his warm strong fingers held her hand within his arm. "Hannah told me I am so glad to see Hannah back in your service, darling-that you were all on the pier."

"So we are," said Nora, grateful to him for speaking only thus. "Is-is Miss Gifford not come, then?"

"No, Sweet. She is awaiting you-at home." "I do not understand," faltered Nora, moving slowly on. "I have no home."

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"Ah, I forgot that," said Mark, in his cool, quizzical way, and with no sign of the effort it cost him to speak to her without betraying all his heart held of love, and care, and tenderness. Well, we must go and see how the mistake has arisen. She certainly told me to bring you home soon, and to say that she awaited you there."

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"She has been very, very kind to me," said Nora, earnestly. "I hope I may see her again."

"You have yet to hear, Sweet Heart, the reason for her not coming to Brighton. It is rather a long story, and can only be told at home. How soon will you come with me?"

"I wonder where Celia has gone," said Nora, wondering why Mark spoke of home with such a new and happy tone of voice; but never guessing how his utterance of the word made her own eyes soften with an inexpressible hope and happiness. "May we walk on, and look for

her?"

They met Mr. and Mrs. Pennington presently, but could find none of the others; so they strolled from the pier, guessing that Celia had unthinkingly sauntered homewards with the Fosters.

"Then will you tell us nothing, Lord Keston, until we reach Heaton?" asked Mrs. Pennington, laughing, as they stopped for a last look across the shadowy sea. "And do you really

expect us to start to-morrow?"

"If you please," said Mark, with rather unusual gravity. "I have my horses here, and will drive you at any hour you will arrange. Perhaps Foster and his mother will come with us. Miss Genevieve is going to Paris, Will tells me, and her sister-but I can tell you these items of news by-and-by. Nora, will you walk on with me to see Mrs. Foster? You are not too tired, are you? Ah, you look so much better, my beloved. I never can be grateful enough to the sea-air for bringing the dainty roses back. And presently, when you and I— My love, do not shrink from me. I am not going to break my word; only, when we go home, I have a story to tell you; and then you will tell me something about that love-test of yours. I daresay you will never see Dr. Armstrong

again, dearest; but possibly you may find the test fulfilled, even in spite of him. We shall see. Why are you stopping? Oh! is this where Mrs. Foster lives? Nora, darling, I have sad news to take to her; but I am not afraid, because I am taking you to her at the same time, my own beloved."

CHAPTER XVI.

Whose glory was redressing human wrong.

TENNYSON.

NSTEAD of guiding his horses round to the

IN

cottage (when they reached Heaton next morning), Mark took them through the park to Heaton Place, and drew them up upon the gravelled sweep before the wide, arched door of the silent old house.

"Nora, isn't it strange?" whispered Celia, in a little flutter of delight and excitement. "But I'm so glad Lord Keston is really living here at last. Mr. Foster will be so glad, won't he? See, there's Miss Gifford in the hall. What a beautiful place it is! This reminds me of the wild romances you used to invent in old days, Nora dear, where the people were for ever