EGERTON.--"You remember the old line in Horace: 'Life's tide flows away, while the boor sits on the margin and waits for the ford.'" HARLEY.--"An idea which incidentally dropped from you some weeks ago, and which I had before half meditated, has since haunted me. If I could but find some child with sweet dispositions and fair intellect not yet formed, and train her up, according to my ideal. I am still young enough to wait a few years, and meanwhile I shall have gained what I so sadly want--an object in life." EGERTON.--"You are ever the child of romance. But what--" Here the minister was interrupted by a messenger from the House of Commons, whom Audley had instructed to seek him on the bridge should his presence be required-- "Sir, the opposition are taking advantage of the thinness of the House to call for a division. Mr.---- is put up to speak for time, but they won't hear him." Egerton turned hastily to Lord L'Estrange, "You see you must excuse me now. To-morrow I must go to Windsor for two days; but we shall meet on my return." "It does not matter," answered Harley; "I stand out of the pale of your advice, O practical man of sense. And if," added Harley, with affectionate and mournful sweetness--"If I worry you with complaints which you can not understand, it is only because of old schoolboy habits. I can have no trouble that I do not confide in you." Egerton's hand trembled as it pressed his friend's; and, without a word, he hurried away abruptly. Harley remained motionless for some seconds, in deep and quiet reverie; then he called to his dog, and turned back toward Westminster. He passed the nook in which had sate the still figure of Despondency. But the figure had now risen, and was leaning against the balustrade. The dog who preceded his master paused by the solitary form, and sniffed it suspiciously. "Nero, sir, come here," said Harley. "Nero," that was the name by which Helen had said that her father's friend had called his dog. And the sound startled Leonard as he leaned, sick at heart, against the stone. He lifted his head and looked wistfully, eagerly into Harley's face. Those eyes, bright, clear, yet so strangely deep and absent, which Helen had described, met his own, and chained them. For L'Estrange halted also; the boy's countenance was not unfamiliar to him. He returned the inquiring look fixed on his own, and recognized the student by the book-stall. "The dog is quite harmless, sir," said L'Estrange, with a smile. "And you call him Nero?" said Leonard, still gazing on the stranger. Harley mistook the drift of the question. "Nero, sir; but he is free from the sanguinary propensities of his Roman namesake." Harley was about to pass on, when Leonard said, falteringly, "Pardon me, but can it be possible that you are one whom I have sought in vain, on behalf of the child of Captain Digby?" Harley stopped short. "Digby!" he exclaimed, "where is he? He should have found me easily. I gave him an address."