Vibert rather took than received the bank-note from Emmie; he saw that his sister was reluctant to give it, but he thought that a kiss, and the assurance that she was "the dearest girl in the world," had set all right between them. "Of course the money is as safe with me as if it were in the Bank of England!" cried Vibert; "you shall have it back in a week;" and nodding good-bye to Emmie, Vibert quitted the drawing-room, and was soon on his way to S----. Emmie watched from the window the light and graceful form of her brother, as he tramped over the new-fallen snow, leaving brown footprints behind him. The poor girl's eyes were full of tears, and her heart of self-reproach. "I have been no true friend to my thoughtless young brother," said Emmie to herself; "it was mere selfish cowardice which made me yield to his wishes, and put in his hands money of which I fear that he will make no good use." The maiden left the window, but not to resume her employment; all her pleasure in it was gone: she had sacrificed her means of doing good to her fear of offending her brother. Emmie knelt down on the hearth-rug and hastily gathered up her scraps of ribbons, chintz, and silk, tossing them back into the basket, as trash to be thrust out of sight, or thrown away as useless. The cares which pressed on Emmie's mind were not now to be banished by thoughts of Christmas amusements, and the hope of imparting innocent pleasure to the children of her father's tenants. On the afternoon of that day, Miss Trevor took possession of that apartment which, by means of thorough repairs, had been prepared for her reception. It was spacious enough to receive all the furniture which had been originally placed in the room now occupied by Bruce. Amongst other articles, the tall press of richly-carved oak occupied a conspicuous place; it had been moved with some difficulty from the position which it had held for two centuries, and now added to the stateliness, though not perhaps to the cheerfulness, of Miss Trevor's apartment. CHAPTER XIX. THE ECLIPSE. The demeanour of Mr. Trevor's two sons, when they met at the dinner-table on that evening, was in strong contrast to each other. Bruce looked grave and stern, and had the appearance of one who is pale and weary from too close attention to study. Vibert, on the contrary, was in the highest spirits. "Bruce, you look as the moon will look to-night under an eclipse!" cried Vibert; "you mean to tack to your name M.A. or D.L. or A.S.S., or some other mystical letters of the alphabet, and the shadow of coming distinction is falling on you already!" "Is this the night of the eclipse?" asked Emmie, interposing, as was her wont, some indifferent remark to prevent any interchange of bitter words between her brothers.