Helen now arose, and seated herself beside her mother, with her head leaning ou her shoulder; and Mr. Dempsey might have been pardoned if he thought she never looked more beautiful. The loose folds of her night-dress less concealed than delineated the perfect symmetry of her form; while through the heavy masses of the luxuriant hair that fell upon her neck and shoulders, her skin seemed more than ever delicately fair. If Paul's mind was a perfect whirl of astonishment, delight, and admiration, his doubts were no less puzzling. What was _he_ to do? Should he at once discover himself, throw himself at Helen's feet in a rapture, confessing that he had heard her avowal, and declare that the passion was mutual? This, although with evident advantages on the score of dramatic effect, had also its drawback. Lady Eleanor, who scarcely looked as well in dishabille as her daughter, might feel offended. She might take it ill, also, that he had been a listener. Paul had heard of people who actually deemed eavesdropping unbecoming! Who knows, among her own eccentricities, if this one might not find place? Paul, therefore, resolved on a more cautious advance, and, for his guidance, applied his ear once more to the aperture. This time, however, without success, for they spoke still lower than before; nor, after a long and patient waiting, could he hear more than that the subject was their present embarrassment, and the necessity of immediately removing from “The Corvy,” but where to, and how, they could not determine. There was no time to ask Bicknell's advice; before an answer could arrive, they would be exposed to all the inconvenience, perhaps insult, which Mr. Nickie's procedure seemed to threaten. The subject appeared one to which all their canvassing had brought no solution, and at last Lady Eleanor said,-- “How thankful I am, Helen, that I never wrote to Lord Netherby; more than once, when our difficulties seemed to thicken, I half made up my mind to address him. How much would it add to my present distress of mind, if I had yielded to the impulse! The very thought is now intolerable.” “Pride! pride!” muttered Paul. “And I was so near it,” ejaculated Lady Eleanor. “Yes,” said Helen, sharply; “our noble cousin's kindness would be a sore aggravation of our troubles.” “Worse than the mother, by Jove!” exclaimed Paul. “Oh dear! if I had a cousin a lord, maybe he'd not hear of me.” Lady Eleanor spoke again; but Paul could only catch a stray word here and there, and again she reverted to the necessity of leaving the cottage at once. “Could we even see this Mr. Dempsey,” said she, “he knows the country well, and might be able to suggest some fitting place for the moment, at least till we could decide on better.” Paul scarcely breathed, that he might catch every syllable. “Yes,” said Helen, eagerly, “he would be the very person to assist us; but, poor little man! he has his own troubles, too, at this moment.”