Bound where thou wilt, my barb; or glide, my prow-- But be the star that guides the wanderer--thou. And again he played the romantic with Flora Mac Ivor, or sang serenades with Henry Bertram. It is, we say, a convenient way of making love, which was something very like Seymour's present occupation, when-- The deep, the low, the pleading tone With which we _read_ another's love, Interpret may our own. Pleasant it is to contrast the even and tranquil affection which was thus ripening between Rereworth and Miss Trevethlan, with the turbulent and rebellious passion which linked together Mildred and Randolph. Helen had soon learned to like her brother's friend in his winter visits to Mr. Peach's cottage: her heart thanked him for the zeal which he now displayed in investigating the fraud practised at the recent trial; and she listened to these readings in a mood prepared readily to acquiesce in the emotions they were calculated to excite. Although it must be confessed that the wild passions of Lord Byron's heroes had more in common with the angry humour of Randolph than with her own gentle disposition. Perhaps her pleasure was derived from the voice of the reader rather than the poetry which he read. But Rereworth did not allow his attentions to the sister to prevail over his exertions on behalf of the brother. And Randolph, being now more independent, seconded his friend's efforts with his own. But it was a vague and unsatisfactory pursuit. With no little difficulty they opened a correspondence with the family of Everope, but they were disappointed in its result; for nothing precise could be recollected respecting the spendthrift's movements in that eventful autumn. His connections were by no means anxious to revive their knowledge of his habits. And in London he seemed to have entirely abandoned all his former haunts. His chambers remained permanently closed; no one had seen him for a long time. Restless and impatient, Randolph roamed through the metropolis, scrutinizing the wayfarers, until his eyes became weary of the endless succession of unknown faces. Occasionally he visited places of questionable resort, having learned that such were much frequented by the object of his chase. Thus, once or twice, he went to the Argyll Rooms, and walked, care-worn and sad, among the giddy throng, where most especially, even in laughter, the heart was sorrowful, and the end of mirth was heaviness. And there one night he was mocked with a glimpse of the man he sought. He was watching, partly with interest, and partly with aversion, the proceedings at the hazard-table, when he noticed a player sitting opposite him, the quivering of whose fingers, as his forehead rested on them, showed how keen was his anxiety in the game. While Randolph was observing him, a showy woman laid her hand upon the gambler's shoulder, and made him look up with a start. At the same moment his eye met Randolph's; he saw he was recognised, rose and