Mr. Winston had to give up his dear little home, and retire with Jane and his baby to lodgings in London till he heard of some employment. At last he found something not very satisfactory, but as nothing else offered he decided to take it. It was to perform the office of hangman in a small country town in Hants by the name of Kenalham. It was not a nice position to be in certainly, and Mr. Winston's nerves were not strong, but the payment was good, and after all only about two people were hung a year at Kenalham. So with a sinking heart Mr. Winston packed up his goods and departed with his child and servant to the little cottage in Kenalham, already furnished for him. It was a nice little house and Mr. Winston smiled as he entered the drawing room, "after all" he said to Jane, "so few people are hung here that nearly all my time will be devoted to my darling Helen," and he kissed the rosy face of the child. So, now having explained the position of my story I will skip over a few years and go on again at the time when Helen had grown up into a charming sweet mannered girl. CHAPTER 2 THE COTTAGE BY THE HILL The little village of Kenalham was situated in the south of Hants and lay at the bottom of some picturesquely grouped hills. No river watered the little town, but a broad stream wound through the neighbouring medows giving a rich green shade to the grass on its banks; the high green hills stood out clear and tall against the blue sky, and the ruins of an old castle on the top of one of the heights gave a strange weird appearance. To add to the strangeness of this little scene, at the bottom of the very hill on which the ruins stood was a villa of the modern kind nestling amidst a woody dell of beach trees. This was no other than the residence of Mr. John Winston and his daughter Helen, and it went by the name of "Beach Dale." It was a charming little house and had the preveleage of possessing a beautiful view both back and front. The front looked out across miles of woodland scenery with no sign of human inhabetance any where safe a single cottage which stood out like a white speck among the greenness which surrounded it. The back looked out on the lovely blue hills, and far away in the distant loomed the white cliffs of Portsmouth. Having now given the reader a correct idea of the surroundings of "Beach Dale" I will endevour to describe Helen Winston. At the time my story opens, our heroine was a charming young lady of nineteen years. She had an abundance of dark brown, almost black hair, curling gracefully over her forehead. Her beautiful brown eyes were headed by well marked eye brows of a lovely black; her complexion was like that of a blush rose and her pretty little nose and mouth added to the charm of her features. Here character I will leave to be found out and only say that she was passionately fond of her father and devoted all her life solely to him.