"Well then, I will go down there to-morrow, and see the place, and Lady Elizabeth; to tell the truth, for I must not take credit for more philanthropy than I possess, though I do not wish to remain in London, I feel a reluctance to leave its neighbourhood--it is strange," and Lady Desmond relapsed into silence and thought, a look of impatience slightly contracting her brow, and changing the expression of her resolute mouth to one of dissatisfaction and unrest. Kate gazed at her in the indolent speculation of a mind too depressed for activity of thought, as to what cause of vexation could possibly ruffle the prosperous current of her cousin's life. "Mr. ----'s carriage," announced a spruce waiter. And kissing her fair god-child, and bidding her an affectionate good-night, Lady Desmond swept out of the room, leaving Kate to the care of Mrs. O'Toole. In less than a fortnight after this conversation, the cousins were settled in a large old fashioned house, adjoining the Palace of Hampton Court, Lady Desmond's well filled purse, and her major domo's tact and intelligence, supplying all the deficiencies of a ready-furnished mansion, with the celerity of modern magic. The above mentioned functionary, an old attendant of the late Sir Thomas, was, as Lady Desmond termed him, her steward, rather than her servant; he arranged her household, paid her bills, and tyrannised over her in a thousand ways, to which, in full consciousness of her weakness, she languidly submitted. April was well advanced when they took possession of their new abode, and most gladly did Kate exchange her daily lifeless airing in the Park, for walks amid the thousand blossoms which adorned the Palace Gardens, with all the freshness and perfume of early spring. The stately parterres, the mossy grass, and the first delicate exquisite green of the trees, the lovely avenue of horse chesnuts in the neighbouring park, all were new to her, all unlike any scene she was accustomed to, and unconnected in her mind with suffering; passionately enjoying the sights and sounds, and scent of a garden, at this, its loveliest season, she felt drawn out of herself by the contemplation of so much beauty; grief was softened to sadness, by this evidence of Almighty love! the past engrossed her less completely, it was so uncongenial with the smiles and tears of April, the anticipative joyousness of all nature, and no longer apprehensive of losing self-command by approaching the subject uppermost in her thoughts, she found a quiet pleasure in constant talk of her grandfather, of his opinions and sayings, and even of his death with a composure that might have misled a superficial observer as to her real feelings.