“There's a paymaster will never fail you in such hire,” said Miss Dinah, pointing to her brother; and then, turning away, she walked back to the little inn. As she drew nigh, the landlord came to tell her that a young gentleman, on seeing her name in the list of strangers, had made many inquiries after her, and begged he might be informed of her return. On learning that he was in the garden, she went thither at once. “I felt it was you. I knew who had been asking for me, Mr. Conyers,” said she, advancing towards Fred with her hand out. “But what strange chance could have led you here?” “You have just said it, Miss Barrington; a chance,--a mere chance. I had got a short leave fron| my regiment, and came abroad to wander about with no very definite object; but, growing impatient of the wearisome hordes of our countrymen on the Rhine, I turned aside yesterday from that great high-road and reached this spot, whose greatest charm--shall I own it?--was a fancied resemblance to a scene I loved far better.” “You are right. It was only this morning my brother said it was so like our own cottage.” “And he is here also?” said the young man, with a half-constraint. “Yes, and very eager to see you, and ask your forgive ness for his ungracious manner to you; not that I saw it, or understand what it could mean, but he says that he has a pardon to crave at your hands.” So confused was Conyers for an instant that he made no answer, and when he did speak it was falteringly and with embarrassment, “I never could have anticipated meeting you here. It is more good fortune than I ever looked for.” [Illustration: 312] “We came over to the Continent to fetch away my grand-niece, the daughter of that Colonel Barrington you have heard so much of.” “And is she--” He stopped, and grew scarlet with confusion; but she broke in, laughingly,-- “No, not black, only dark-complexioned; in fact, a brunette, and no more.” “Oh, I don't mean,--I surely could not have said--” “No matter what you meant or said. Your unuttered question was one that kept occurring to my brother and myself every morning as we journeyed here, though neither of us had the courage to speak it. But our wonders are over; she is a dear good, girl, and we love her better every day we see her. But now a little about yourself. Why do I find you so low and depressed?” “I have had much to fret me, Miss Barrington. Some were things that could give but passing unhappiness; others were of graver import.” “Tell me so much as you may of them, and I will try to help you to bear up against them.” “I will tell you all,--everything!” cried he. “It is the very moment I have been longing for, when I could pour out all my cares before you and ask, What shall I do?” Miss Barrington silently drew her arm within his, and they strolled along the shady alley without a word.