But the proposal led to great demur. Randolph abhorred the idea of accepting anything like favour from any of his enemy's house; and was not disposed to admit Mrs. Winston's view of her independence. Yet, being married, she might be considered as no longer involved in the quarrel. And Randolph was very anxious to find his sister a home. She was in his way. He felt it with no want of affection. But whenever in his reveries he looked forward to the career he should adopt, as soon as he had re-established the good fame of his family, his sister always recurred to his mind as an obstacle in his path. Sketching for himself an adventurous course in some far-distant land, he was always recalled from the vision by the thought of her he should in such case be compelled to leave unprotected, behind. A very short glimpse into the future would have spared him much fruitless speculation. Helen, with that gentle longing for a reconciliation which she showed in the very opening of this narrative, read Mrs. Winston's letter with pleasure, and desired to accept the invitation. In answer to her brother's peevish dissatisfaction, she urged that her visit might be very short, but that it would be ungrateful, uncharitable, every way perverse, to reject what was offered with such true kindness. She should be entirely private,--should, of course, hold no intercourse with Mr. or Mrs. Pendarrel, and could see Randolph as often and as freely as he pleased. The chaplain supported Helen's argument with all his power. And in the end the brother yielded, little thinking to what a train of circumstances the visit would give rise. And so Miss Trevethlan removed to Cavendish-square, where Gertrude's winning demeanour soon put her completely at her ease, and where she walked through those same rooms, in which she might remember that Randolph encountered Mrs. Pendarrel face to face, and made the avowal which cut short his career as a student of the law. He himself escorted her, and quivered a little as he stood in the well-remembered drawing-room. But he only staid a few minutes before returning to Hampstead, through the long and squalid suburb which then lay at the foot of the hill. The stuccoed terraces of the Regent's-park were still in the brain or the portfolio of the architect. The realization of Darwin's prophecy, "Soon shall thy arm, unconquered Steam, afar Drag the slow barge, or drive the rapid car,"